The most notable thing about that day was the number of refugees they passed. Trev had expected dozens or maybe hundreds, but judging by the sheer volume of humanity pouring past them along both sides of the road the number had to be closer to thousands. The sight was uncomfortable, not just because of what it meant for the people around them but also because of what it meant for every single town and city in their path.
“Lewis sometimes jokingly called the people fleeing the cities during a collapse and overwhelming the rural areas with their numbers the Golden Horde,” Trev said a couple hours into the hike when Matt expressed his frustration about trying to find his sister among so many faces. “I’d almost say they’re more like a locust swarm.”
His friend gave him a disgusted look. “I don’t think it’s fair to say that all refugees are ravenous parasites.”
Trev frowned. “Well it’s not the most pleasant thought, but if they can’t fend for themselves they have to get their food from somewhere.”
“So? They’re still people. People it’s wrong to just automatically assume are bad.”
“Whoa, whoa, when did I ever say that? They’re not all bad people, probably not even most of them. But they’re desperate people, and desperate people will do whatever they have to do to survive. The best ones might go back to being good people once the crisis has passed, but if the crisis never passes there’s no predicting what they’ll do.”
“So you don’t think it’s possible to be desperate and still keep your moral values?” Matt demanded.
Trev shrugged. “Of course it is. The problem is that the people who do keep their moral values are more likely to die faster. As time goes on the probability of meeting an honest, trustworthy refugee is going to decrease. Sure, if we have help for them they’ll be all smiles and gratitude, but then they’ll usually come back asking for more and the gratitude will slowly disappear while the expectation of generosity remains. Then the moment you have to say no in order to have enough to save your own life they’ll almost certainly turn angry and entitled.”
“Then what, we mistreat refugees just in case they’re bad apples?”
His friend’s judgmental tone was starting to annoy him. “Quit putting words in my mouth, man. I’m just saying that no matter how kindly we treat others, and even while we do as much as we can to help them, we should also be cautious and prepared for anyone we meet to be dangerous. If they’re not dangerous the worst that happens is we look a bit cautious and untrusting, but if they are dangerous we’re ready for whatever they might try.”
Matt looked away. “Maybe you’re right.”
“You know I’m right. Do you know how many people have already died? It could be hundreds of thousands or even millions by now. And most of that is from violence because we’re not even to the three week point where people who had no food when the disaster struck should be starving to death, so you know that number’s going to go up fast.”
Trev couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable his words were making his friend, but he couldn’t ignore reality. “These refugees are in serious trouble and they know it. Do you think if they had the chance to take everything we had so we’re the ones in serious trouble and they might live a bit longer most of them would be worried about the ethics of it?” He pointed at the gun on Matt’s hip. “That’s why they don’t, and we’d better hope we don’t run into anyone who’s willing to shoot first and talk later and manages to catch us by surprise. All we can do is be ready for them.”
His friend abruptly quickened his pace. “I’m not liking the thought of how many of these people might end up in Aspen Hill,” he muttered. That was probably the closed he’d come to admitting Trev had a point.
“Yeah, me neither.” Trev sighed and hurried to catch up. “Look, the locust swarm remark was a rotten thing to say and I do feel bad for these people. It’s just that we’ve got enough problems with the refugees who were already sitting outside the town when we left.” Matt kept going at the same fast pace and Trev raised his voice slightly. “Hey slow down, we’ve still got a long way to go.”
On that 12 hour stretch to Spanish Fork the only noteworthy event was when they passed Trev’s car halfway through the hike. He wasn’t surprised to find that the vehicle was completely trashed, windows broken and doors and roof heavily dented as if someone had taken a crowbar or tire iron to them. The trunk was open, the carpet covering the spare tire flung aside and the spare tire itself nowhere to be seen.
“Looks like someone was really serious about looking for food,” Matt said as they came alongside the vehicle.
Trev looked away, feeling a bit sick. He’d bought the car used and it had caused almost as much trouble as it was worth back when he’d been driving it, but it had represented freedom of movement in a way he really had to appreciate under the circumstances. “The vindictive side of me almost thinks the piece of junk got what it deserved for not getting me all the way home. I’ve done enough walking in the last two weeks to last me a lifetime.”
Matt glanced over, probably wondering if that was a dig at him for asking Trev to come along on yet another long journey. Trev hadn’t meant it that way. “Well it’s not like it would’ve been useful any time soon,” his friend replied. Trev nodded and didn’t look back as they continued down the road.
In the late afternoon, just after Trev shared the last of his water with Matt, they finally reached the last hill overlooking Spanish Fork, which Highway 6 passed through to join up with I-15. Trev looked that way, thinking back to the first day of the attack when he’d driven this route. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.
“Civilization at last,” Matt said wryly, shoving a handful of peanuts into his mouth as he caught up. Trev wasn’t sure the salty snack was the best idea until they found a source of water.
“Maybe,” he replied. “Before we head in there I should warn you that this isn’t society anymore, it’s a war zone. We’ve got two big rules from now until we get to your sister’s house: One, we don’t be seen. Two, we don’t be heard. By anyone. We treat this like we could get attacked at any moment, because that’s reality. We stick to cover, backyards and alleys if we have to, and we go as close as possible to a straight line towards our objective.”
“Our “objective?” Matt asked, amused. “Okay Mr. Military Man.”
Trev ignored the jibe. “Or maybe we could avoid the Interstate and the cities entirely and cut straight north to follow the foothills. They’ll lead us all the way up to Midvale and we can completely avoid trouble.”
Matt was already shaking his head. “We have to stick with I-15 so I can keep watching for April’s family. That’s why we’re here, remember?”
Trev frowned. “It’s going to get a lot harder to do that now that we’re in populated areas. I was antsy enough walking on Highway 6 with so many people around, but there’ll be ten times that number on the Interstate. I don’t know if it’s even possible to avoid trouble, and I really doubt we’ll find a way to stay at binocular distance from the road to avoid being seen.”
“So we get seen,” his friend said with a shrug. “We just have to keep our guard up.”
“Now’s the exactly the time when we want to avoid notice,” Trev answered patiently. “All these refugees fleeing the cities, what do you think they’re running from? Trying to find food, sure, but for most of them they’re running from the violence in the cities. Which we’re about to walk into. Besides, we can move faster than your sister’s family. What if we keep going to Midvale following the foothills and search there, and if we can’t find her then we take the Interstate down looking for her?”