Sam shook her head, still with no answer. “I just hope they don’t turn violent like they are up north. We’d have trouble defending ourselves from just these few hundred refugees, and if they’re joined by thousands more they might—”
She cut off as Mona made an alarmed noise and bustled towards the refugee women, dropping her jugs where she’d been standing. Somewhat hesitant, Sam dropped her own jugs and trailed a few steps behind the older woman.
The ten women had finished getting water and were starting back towards camp, but one of them had fallen behind a bit. She was younger, probably close to Sam’s age, and limping. But what Mona must have noticed was that her face was deeply bruised.
“Oh you poor dear!” the older woman said, intercepting the girl and clucking at her face in sympathy. “What happened to you? Who did this?”
The other refugees all stopped at the intrusion, which obviously wasn’t welcome: the two men set down their jugs and started forward. “Never mind her,” the older man snapped. “It’s none of your business.”
Mona faced down the two men with admirable fearlessness, although Sam couldn’t help but notice that she did glance over at the roadblock where Officer Turner and a few other armed men waited. “You think it’s not my business when I see signs of a woman being beaten?” she demanded. “Was it you?”
The man’s face reddened dangerously, but before he could responded the bruised girl herself spoke up, voice soft but fierce. “What do you care, anyway?”
Taken aback, Mona turned away from the two men to look at her. “What do you mean? I can’t sit by and watch you get treated like this.” She took the girl’s arm gently but firmly. “Come on, Officer Turner is just over there. You can tell him what happened and—”
“And what, get sent back to the camp as a snitch and see how Razor thanks me for it?” the girl demanded, snatching her arm back and glaring under her bruises. “You townies turn us away and give us nothing besides water we have to carry ourselves, but suddenly you start caring enough to stick your nose into our business when one of us gets smacked around? How about my dad who got clobbered in the head when he tried to protect us from burglars before we came south? Have you ever sat helplessly beside a loved one, knowing there’s nothing you could do as you watch him die?”
Mona turned a helpless look to Sam, as if for some support, but Sam didn’t know what she could say. “We do what we can,” she suggested feebly.
The girl spat on Mona’s shirt. “That’s what you do,” she shot back. “I’m better off trusting to my arrangement than hoping for whatever generosity you’ve got to give.” She juggled her bottles into a more comfortable grip in her arms and stalked away, still limping painfully but seeming too angry to acknowledge it. Behind her the other refugees quickly followed, most turning dark looks back at them as they went.
Sam wasn’t sure what sort of arrangement the girl had found, but just thinking about it was enough to make her feel sick.
She jumped slightly when Mona turned and rested a hand on her arm. “We knew it was going to be hard to turn them away and they’d probably hate us for it,” she said sorrowfully. The older woman’s eyes reflected tears in the morning sunlight. “I just wish there was something we could do.”
Instinctively, Sam pulled Mona into a comforting hug. “We didn’t make the problems in the world,” she answered fiercely, “we’ve just got to deal with them the best we can. There’s no guilt in what we can’t do.”
Mona hugged her back tightly. “I suppose you’re right,” she whispered, half a sob in her voice. “But I’m afraid I’ll be seeing that poor girl’s face whenever I think of the people in that camp.” She abruptly straightened and pulled away, turning to retrieve the water jugs she’d dropped to chase after the refugee. As she started for the spring she spoke over her shoulder. “If nothing else it puts a face to them, and that pity might inspire us to ways we can help them we might not otherwise have thought of.”
Sam hurried to bring her own jugs over to be filled, but she felt a bit doubtful in spite of how much this awful scene had shaken her. Pity was all well and good, but after what Mandy had confided to her about Trev last night before bedtime, combined with the roundabout admission from the bruised girl, she had to wonder if they might have to worry about more than just violence from the refugees.
There were other things starving, desperate women turned to besides theft. She supposed whatever private mutual agreements people made were none of her business, but the thought still left an unsettled feeling in her gut.
She wished the refugees would just leave. All of them, including Mandy. Sam had done her best to be kind to the Larsons’ newest guest and get along, but the woman was lazy and whiny and had a real nasty streak she hid from everyone else. For now at least.
Mandy had as much as told Sam that she wasn’t happy about how Trev had made her all sorts of promises and then dumped her off to be a burden on complete strangers while he ran off to save someone else. She claimed she was sick of being treated like an outsider, and if Trev didn’t come home soon to take care of her she was going to spread around the deal she’d made with him that she’d already filled her end of. And she’d make sure everyone knew who the bad guy was in the story.
If the blond woman’s claims were true Sam almost didn’t pity the man the imminent destruction of his good name, Matt’s friend or not. Maybe he could leave along with Mandy and the refugees, and good riddance.
As long as he brought Matt home first.
Once they’d filled their water jugs they left them waiting at the spring so Matt’s mom could make her way over to the roadblock to talk to Officer Turner. Sam came along too in case she needed to add any details or confirm the story.
After the older woman had told the policeman what she’d seen and what she feared was happening to the bruised woman Turner nodded grimly. “I can’t say I’m surprised. We’ve had refugees coming by to report crimes of theft and assault in the camp, even hints of racketeering. It’s not the first time I’ve heard about this Razor she mentioned. But we can’t do much about the situation but advise them to leave the camp and try to find a safer place.”
Mona drew herself up indignantly. “You’re not even going to try to solve the crimes or bring the criminals to justice? What about your duty?”
The officer’s round face reddened. “At the moment my duty is to keep these refugees out and deny them any help. How do you think they’d take it after all that if I came barging into the camp asking questions and arresting people? I’d probably end up shot.” Mona opened her mouth to protest further and he continued angrily. “Besides, even if I wanted to bring law and order to a tent city filled with hundreds of people I just don’t have the manpower. I’m having a hard enough time finding enough men to keep our borders secure, and it doesn’t help that some people who’ve already committed to help have wandered off with excuses like searching for family in rioting cities.”
That was obviously a barb about Matt and Trev going north to pick up April and her family, and Mona didn’t miss it. She frowned for a few moments, then gave up and let the matter drop. “I suppose it is what it is. Any word on the towns farther south since the phones went dead?”
Turner nodded grimly. “Chauncey Watson has been manning the shortwave radio at the town hall. Practically 24/7, even sleeping there most nights. He feeds me whatever news he picks up. It looks like to help with their relief efforts taking in all the refugees Price is trying to set up as the head of an interim local government with all the nearby towns. Problem is when I say all the refugees I mean all of them. Anyone who shows up, not just the ones they agreed to with the FETF deal.”