“Sure.” She fidgeted awkwardly, as if she wanted to say something, then abruptly blurted “Be careful, okay?” Before he could answer she lifted a hand in farewell and hopped off the car, hurrying down the street.
After that the tense minutes continued to tick by in silence for almost a half hour, until finally a squawk on the radio made Matt hurriedly straighten. “Officer Turner? This is Carl Raymond out on Highway 6. We’ve got a group of refugees trying to take the northernmost road to Aspen Hill.”
The radio almost immediately crackled with a response. “This is Turner. You’ve turned them back, right?”
There was a long pause. “Um yeah. Well kind of. We told them the town’s closed and that they should continue south to Price where the other refugees are going. They aren’t trying to force their way past us or anything, but after we talked to them they started setting up camp right on the highway at the turnoff, saying they won’t leave until they’ve talked to the Mayor. They’re pretty pissed.”
Turner cursed. “How many people? Is it the 60 person group Smith warned us about?”
Another long pause. “Uh no, or at least maybe. We’ve got over a hundred people here so some of them might be part of that group.”
Matt stared at the radio in shock. A hundred people camped out on the highway. And this was just the first group, the people who’d made the trip down from Utah Valley the quickest.
“That many uninvited guests sitting on our front door,” the policeman muttered, barely audible over the radio. “Okay, Raymond, stick around and keep an eye on them. Let us know if they get antsy or try to come our way.” He abruptly changed his tone to almost a bark. “Listen up, Roadblocks 1 through 3. I’m going to send around what nonlethal weapons my office had stocked, and if you’ve got anything like that I’d encourage you to bring it with you on shifts. From now on if anyone who isn’t a resident of Aspen Hill approaches the roadblocks you are not to let them get within twenty feet. Give them a verbal warning, then if that doesn’t work use those nonlethal tools to deter them. Under no circumstances are you to use firearms unless you come under attack yourselves. Everyone acknowledge.”
Matt looked around at the other men on shift with him, who’d gathered around to listen to the exchange. Most looked too surprised or intent on the conversation to realize he was looking for a response, although a few met his eye and nodded. Matt lifted the radio to respond, but before he could roadblock 2 beat him to it, with 3 not far behind. Once the air was clear again he transmitted. “This is Matthew Larson at Roadblock 1, acknowledging your order. I’ve got bear spray and am prepared to use it.”
After a short pause Turner responded. “All right, then. I’ll go tell Anderson and the City Council what’s going on. We’ll see if they want to bother with responding to the refugees or try to wait them out. Until then sit tight. Over and out.”
The rest of his shift was infuriatingly quiet, with no news either from the men watching the refugees or from Turner or anyone in the city government about what they were going to do about the new arrivals. Between the tension and the tedium Matt felt like he was trapped in a cage, and more and more he found himself standing on the roof of the car to get a better view northeast.
When his shift ended later in the afternoon he was tempted to stay around waiting for news, or maybe go directly to town hall and find out himself, but he wanted to get home to report the day’s events to Sam and his parents and talk to them about the situation.
Still, he had a feeling that not knowing was going to make sleep difficult to find that night, and he honestly hoped Anderson and Turner and the City Council had decided on a solid plan of action.
Chapter Nine
Plight
The next morning Matt and Sam made their way up to Roadblock 1 to see what was going on, even though Matt didn’t have a shift that day and had been planning on doing a shift on patrol north of town to relieve Trev.
To their surprise they found a crowd of Aspen Hill residents gathered, over a hundred people. The Mayor and the entire City Council were huddled at the front of the crowd, just behind the roadblock, and Matt learned from the people near the back that a delegation was going out soon to meet with the refugees.
Matt paused to ask some questions and learned that during the evening shift at the roadblocks Anderson had sent a dozen men hauling freight carts from Tillman’s to bring water to the refugees. That was a kindness Matt hadn’t even thought of, and he was glad the Mayor had. He also thought it was smart to not send even a little food, to reinforce the town’s position that they had none to spare.
Anderson hadn’t gone with the water, and he’d instructed the men bringing it to drop off the jugs and come back with as little contact as possible other than to send along assurances that he and the City Council along with Turner would meet with the refugees the next morning. Mostly to give an official message reinforcing Aspen Hill’s stance that they weren’t taking anyone in. From what the people Matt chatted with had heard it was the council’s hope that by shutting down all communication aside from that one message and by keeping the refugees on the highway it would encourage them to keep going south to where they’d be more welcome.
Once he’d got the gist of things Matt excused himself and turned to Sam. “I’m going to volunteer to go with them as part of the escort.” Part of his intention was to make himself useful, but a stronger motivation was to check out the camp and, if possible, learn where they’d come from and whether any of them had news about whether FETF was sending refugees their way from Midvale. It was too much to hope for that anyone in the camp would have specific news about his sister’s family, but he was going to ask around just in case.
It would also give him an idea of how refugees fared on the long walk south, so he’d know how April and the others would fare if they were also forced to make the trip.
“Why?” Sam asked with a slight frown. “You don’t have a shift today and there’s plenty to do around the house.”
“I’m really worried about my sister,” he confessed. “I want to see what it’s like for the refugees, see if anyone has heard anything about Midvale or the nearby areas. And maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will have news about them, although that’s a long shot.”
“I understand.” The dark-haired woman patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I could come with you and help, if you want.”
“That would be great.” Matt said glanced over at the forming delegation. “We can see, but I think Turner wants to keep it to as few people as possible. He might not even want me along.”
They made their way up to ask, and it turned out Matt was pretty much right. Turner bluntly thanked Sam for her willingness to offer but refused, stating that aside from the Mayor and City Council he was only bringing half a dozen men as security. “You can come along too if you’re offering,” he told Matt. “The more guns the better, up to a point.”
Sam looked disappointed as she stepped back into the crowd. “You need to teach me to shoot,” she told Matt. “I feel like I can’t do much to help.”
Matt gave her an incredulous look. “You spend just about every day helping, either at the storehouse or around my parents’ house.”
“Well yeah,” she admitted. “But I still wish you’d teach me to shoot.”
He wasn’t sure he’d be the best teacher since his own experience boiled down to the odd trip to the shooting range whenever he’d come down to Aspen Hill from college, usually borrowing Trev’s or Lewis’s 1911 and paying for the ammunition he used. But he supposed he was better than nothing. “I will,” he promised. “Bullets are precious, but I can at least take you down to the range to get you familiar with the gun and show you how to do dry fire drills. It wouldn’t hurt to do more of both myself.”