Trev felt a bit embarrassed, especially since he had to take a deep breath to get control of his nerves before answering. “I’ve just noticed that in a lot of dangerous situations if you act suddenly and decisively you can get a huge advantage. Then if you press that advantage you can resolve the confrontation quickly. The main thing is knowing when to act, or whether or not to take that kind of gamble at all.”
His friend nodded thoughtfully. “So you like the blitz method. Seems like a good way to look at things.” He glanced over his shoulder. “If we can’t avoid a confrontation, at least. We should watch our backs in here.”
“Hopefully we won’t be staying long. Although I wouldn’t mind a meal and the promised cot. Fingers crossed your sister’s family is where that lady said they were.” Trev quickened his pace.
Matt caught up to him and lowered his voice. “Doesn’t it, um, bother you that we got mugged inside the refugee camp? And they had weapons! Isn’t FETF keeping the peace here?”
Trev glanced over his shoulder at the punks now far behind them. “I wish I could say it surprised me but yeah, it bothers me. Notice that so far we’ve only seen soldiers at the camp’s entrance or patrolling outside the fence?”
His friend abruptly broke into a trot, probably realizing what it meant for his family if the camp wasn’t such a safe place.
It was hard to blame him. Safety was always a major concern, and from the looks of things FETF had just given the refugees here a place to sleep and meals and then left them to their own devices, which was a recipe for disaster. The camp may have been organized but the people weren’t, and from what he saw there wasn’t much being done to impose order.
In spite of the massive number of people very few were out and about, which meant everyone must have been hiding in their tents, and the few people he did see looked wary and regarded him with suspicion. Everyone he saw was also wearing dirty clothes, suggesting that FETF hadn’t found a solution to laundry yet. He hoped they were doing better for the other aspects of hygiene.
The more he saw, the more determined he was that they shouldn’t stay long.
The fifth tent on the right in Section F turned out to be large enough to hold a dozen people, partitioned with curtains around distinct family units. Matt asked a few women sitting in the doorway about the Lynns and they were invited into the tent, following an older woman to a partition near the back. Matt perked up when he heard childlike voices coming from inside and called out his sister’s name.
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then with a happy shout a small shape burst out from behind the partition and rushed over to throw his arms around Matt. That was his nephew Aaron, who was 5 if Trev remembered correctly. The young boy babbled a disjointed recounting of recent events while Matt held him, grinning in relief, and as he spoke April came out carrying Matt’s other nephew, two year old Paul, followed closely by her husband Terry. At the sight of his uncle Paul squirmed free to also rush over and join the hug.
With Matt’s brown hair it was easy to miss his Scandinavian ancestry, but April was tall and blond. Terry was also tall and blond, with hints of red in his hair, and thanks to that their two boys were both towheaded.
Trev held back to let the family enjoy their reunion as Matt straightened to throw his arms around his sister while his nephews hugged his legs, then reached out and shook Terry’s hand. April was talking a mile a minute, asking questions one after another without waiting for any answers and expressing disbelief that they were here.
Matt briefly explained about seeing how difficult things were for the refugees around Aspen Hill and deciding he had to come up and help his sister and her family get safely down to town for his own peace of mind. Once he was finished April and Terry shared their own story about what had happened since the attack.
It turned out that the Lynn family had been well situated in their house, since it was in an out of the way neighborhood far from any riots. To add to that her neighbors had set up an armed watch program to deter the opportunistic looters who were taking advantage of the chaos to raid houses, especially in neighborhoods in more isolated areas. Between the watch and the food storage they’d managed to prepare beforehand they were actually fairly optimistic about their chances of hunkering down and outlasting whatever was coming, even if it took all winter.
Ironically it wasn’t looters that shattered that dream. Or at least not lawless ones. Four days ago FETF had gone door to door in their neighborhood to offer assistance. From how April described things it sounded like the relief coordinators and their Armed Forces escorts had gone in asking about the household’s supplies and wanting to see an inventory of whatever food the family had so they’d have a better idea of what aid was needed. Then, if they discovered that the house had more than two weeks’ worth of food, they’d pounce in and confiscate everything and “recommend” that the family go to the Antelope Island camp where they’d be cared for.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it deceitful,” Terry said when Trev expressed his outrage at the tactic. “Their motivations were certainly genuine. From what I hear anyone with less than the restricted amount was given assistance just as promised. It was only people breaking the hoarding laws that had their food confiscated.”
“But they didn’t even leave you with two weeks’ worth,” Trev protested. “They used a law almost no one knew about to punish you for thinking ahead while rewarding your unprepared neighbors.”
“It’s not a reward, just desperately needed charity,” Terry replied, although he didn’t sound convinced.
“I think I’m with you on this one, Trevor,” April said. “It was a pretty rotten deal. But it turned out it didn’t matter anyway since FETF also confiscated everyone’s guns “for our protection”, so the neighborhood watch couldn’t really guard us anymore. With no one to defend us and no food just about everyone decided they’d be better off here in the FETF camp.”
“Now let’s not judge them too harshly,” Terry cut in hastily. “Remember, they’re managing this disaster on a nationwide level. We might have our own individual problems, but they’re trying to keep as many US citizens alive as possible. I’d say they deserve some leeway for that.”
Trev wondered if the couple was really as sanguine about what they were describing as they acted. If it had happened to him he’d be spitting blood. In fact, it had happened to him and he was splitting blood. They’d stolen his 1911! They hadn’t even cared that he was a responsible citizen with a concealed carry permit, or for that matter that those neighborhood watch men protecting the Lynns’ house were using those guns to safeguard their homes and community. How could April talk about them confiscating the weapons “for their protection” without sarcasm dripping from every word?
Matt must’ve sensed he was about to blow a gasket. “How have things been since then?” his friend hurriedly asked. “Have you been all right in camp?”
Terry was about to answer when his wife shushed him and gathered little Paul in her arms. “It’s bad in here,” she confessed, holding her son tight. “Really bad. Women have been attacked. There’s been murders. The FETF soldiers don’t come in very often, only when it gets really rowdy, and then they come in with pepper spray and riot gear. They treat us like criminals in here. Terry hasn’t slept well since we arrived, staying up nights too afraid for our safety to sleep.”
“Why didn’t you leave?” Trev asked.
Terry shot him an annoyed look, even though it was a fair question. “They tell us it’s even worse out there. People starving, rioting and looting. Thugs rule the streets and there’s no food anywhere to be found. Looters tried to break into our house the night before we were evacuated and nearly succeeded before our neighborhood watch drove them away, and the neighborhoods around us didn’t fare so well. At least here we eat twice a day.”