Matt shifted awkwardly, not sure what to say. He glanced at the other men on duty, most of them to either side of the road sitting on the dressers pulled across the sidewalks, but they were all pretending they hadn’t heard the outburst.
Before he could say anything Turner abruptly stood and reached down to grab the rest of the six pack. “You’ve got the hot seat,” he growled, yanking the radio off his belt and tossing it onto the chair. “Call if anything happens. I’ve got some business back at the office.”
Without another word the officer hopped off the car, stumbling on landing, and strode purposefully towards the town hall. Matt hesitantly climbed up to the chair and grabbed the radio, settling down on the plastic seat.
“The others in your shift are taking their time getting here,” one of the other men on duty grumbled. “Just because we don’t have power doesn’t mean telling time is suddenly impossible. Where’s everyone’s watches?”
Matt shrugged. Looked like Turner wasn’t the only one on edge: maybe it was good a new shift was coming in before the refugees got here. Assuming they actually tried to get in.
A few minutes later the other people on shift with him began trickling in. Matt filled them in on the situation as the people in the earlier shift left, then together they all sat tensely waiting. An hour passed, then two, at which point he got some relief from boredom and tenseness when Sam came to visit him. The dark-haired woman had brought water, a gesture he appreciated even though he had plenty and the spring was a stone’s throw down the street, and then she joined him sitting on the hood of the car facing out of town.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said. “Worried about the refugees?”
Matt kept staring at the hills to the northwest, ultimately leading up to the mountain pass on the horizon that Highway 6 went through to reach Spanish Fork. “Kind of, but not really. I can’t stop thinking about April and her family up in Midvale.”
That was, if anything, an understatement. When he’d spoken to his sister just before the phones died she’d seemed intent on riding out the chaos right where she was and had assured him that they had enough food storage to do it. But in spite of that he’d still been worrying about her a lot these last few days since making it to Aspen Hill. Especially following the chaos he’d escaped from in Orem, when his sister’s family might be going through the same and he had no way to contact them and make sure they were okay. Learning about FETF sending refugees south had compounded his worries yet again, and now after hearing about Trev’s news regarding the arrival of the first wave of refugees his worry increased even more.
“She has her food storage and a good house,” Sam said, doing her best to sound reassuring. The dark-haired woman knew April’s situation since Matt’s parents were worried too and his mom frequently mentioned her and reassured herself that they had what they needed, while his dad mused aloud about the difficulty of making the trip on foot with young children and how long it might take them.
Matt shook his head. “Trev had a lot of food storage up in Orem and he still decided it would be better to come south. The cities are dangerous.” She nodded, seeming unsure how to respond, and Matt fell into brooding silence again.
Even if April and Terry decided to stay in Midvale, what if FETF sent them south with other groups of refugees in spite of their wishes? Were they somewhere on I-15 or Highway 6 struggling to make the long trek with scant provisions and a two year old toddler and a five year old in tow? What if they’d been sent north or east instead of south? What if the small town FETF was evacuating them to was Heber or Goshen or Manti or who knew where? Would the task force coordinators be understanding about the fact that April had family waiting in Aspen Hill and help speed their way south, or would they try to insist they go where they were told?
A thought had started brewing in his mind last night and had stuck there all morning, that waiting and worrying wasn’t enough. He should be doing something, and that something was going north to find his sister’s family and help them get back to Aspen Hill. He cursed his decision to trade the remainder of the gas in his tank to Mr. Tillman to partially pay for his purchases, and cursed almost as much his decision to drive straight down here rather than heading up to pick up his sister and her family and bring them down. He would’ve had enough fuel in the tank to make the trip, and surely Sam would’ve understood the need.
But thanks to his thoughtlessness and shortsightedness here he was, over a hundred miles away and with no way to help April’s family if they needed it.
Matt closed his eyes and settled down with his palms flat on the roof of the car, struggling to calm his thoughts. There was no reason to panic just yet. If FETF was coordinating relief up in the cities and sending refugees where they’d prearranged for them to go then they had to have the situation under control in spite of the riots. For all he knew there might even be FETF coordinators leading the groups of refugees and helping them get where they were going.
Once the refugees started arriving he could go out and ask the FETF people, or the refugees themselves if they were unescorted, what the situation was like and how well the task force had things in hand up north. Most likely the news he got would settle his fears, or at the very least give him a better idea of what action he needed to take moving forward.
Assuming he wasn’t once again reacting too slowly to the destabilizing situation and it was already too late for April and her family. Matt violently shook his head to dismiss the horrible thought, abruptly climbing to his feet so he could carefully scan the area around them to make sure no one was coming.
“It seems like a bad idea to tear yourself apart worrying,” Sam said. She’d jumped slightly in startlement at his sudden movement, but after a moment she also got to her feet to stand beside him. “Why don’t you tell me about April and Terry and their boys? I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
Matt shot her a grateful smile and eagerly accepted her distraction, telling her about his big sister, his brother-in-law Terry who’d just graduated medical school studying to be a surgeon and was interning at a hospital in Salt Lake City, and their two tow-headed boys Aaron and Paul.
That opened Sam up to talking about her family in New York, a topic she’d avoided until now. Her parents were divorced and her mother was remarried, but she was still an only child. From her tone she didn’t have too great a relationship with either of them, but in spite of that she sounded genuinely worried. Matt felt a bit bad that she’d had to suffer that worry alone up until now, and wished he’d thought to ask about her family sooner.
Before they knew it another hour had passed and Matt was halfway through his shift. About that time, though, Carl Raymond called in on the radio. He was one of the two men Turner had sent out to watch the highway, and he had news that they’d spotted a large group of refugees heading south in their direction.
For a moment Matt wondered if he should reply that Turner wasn’t at the roadblock anymore, but before he could the policeman answered over the radio, probably using one of the ones recharging in his office. “Roger that. Stay out of sight and we’ll see if they walk past us.”
“Understood,” Carl replied. “Turning the radio to silent for a bit.”
After that the silence became tense. “This is awful,” Sam finally said, lifting up on her toes as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the highway. “I hope they just go right by so we don’t have to turn them away.”
Matt nodded grimly. “Me too. Do you think you could go let my parents know what’s going on? Just in case.”