“They should be.” Lewis picked up one of the sealed bags and looked at the stack of packets inside. “They’re only a few years old and the water shouldn’t have got to them.”
Trev picked up another bag. Tomatoes, carrots, various squashes, radishes, and beets. His stomach rumbled just thinking of them. “How long until we can plant?”
His cousin lost a bit of his good cheer. “That’s the question, isn’t it? The cold seems later in coming during the fall these last few years, but it also means it lasts later after winter, too, sometimes into May or even June. We have a situation where if we plant too early the crops can die, but if we plant too late the people relying on those crops will. I know a lot of people in town are going to try to plant early and pray for a good outcome, but even at the earliest it’ll be weeks until we can plant, maybe as much as a month.”
“Until then we can prepare the plot and focus on other things,” Trev said.
“Exactly.” Lewis set the bag he held back on the pile. “I talked to Jane, and she’s agreed to show me where she’s been having the best luck finding game. Now that things are warming up animals are going to be heading back up into the mountains, so with any luck the foothills will be teeming with deer.”
Trev did his best not to feel jealous. He supposed now that Jane had shut him down he should be cheering his cousin on. Besides, although Lewis had joined him on a few double dates and wasn’t exactly a loner, his cousin had never really sought out a relationship. Trev had a hard time seeing sparks flying between the two.
“That’s pretty generous of her,” he said, trying to keep a neutral tone.
Lewis shrugged. “I wouldn’t exactly say that. She partly wanted to pay us back for the food we gave her and Tom on the way down. Also she’s expecting ten percent of any kill I make in a location she recommended.”
“What if she just recommended every single canyon and stream in the area?” Trev asked, frowning.
His cousin grinned at him. “Believe me, she didn’t. I’m more than happy to pay a finder’s fee for her advice.” He leaned down and scooped up an armful of stuff from the cache, and Trev hurried to grab his own armful and followed him inside.
The next day Trev got back from an uneventful shift at the roadblock to find Lewis off on patrol and the Larson family mostly gone, scattered around the town doing various tasks. Sam and Mrs. Larson, or he supposed they were both Mrs. Larson now but it was hard to get used to the idea, were up in the observation post sharing the watch and taking care of the boys.
Trev wasn’t sure how he felt about that distraction while doing something that important, but then again boredom could create its own distractions and two pairs of eyes were better than one. Or three, since it looked as if Aaron had been deputized as lookout and was solemn and serious in his duties. The newly-turned six year old even challenged Trev as he approached and demanded he identify himself. Trev endured the interrogation good-naturedly as he waved to the two women, continuing on into the house to get some food before setting back out to make himself useful.
It turned out he didn’t need to look for ways to do that, because halfway through the meal Matt came into the shelter with his nephews swarming around his legs and Sam holding his hand. His friend shooed the boys off into his wife’s care while he made his way over to Trev’s cot.
“I need your help digging,” he said, and his expression and tone of voice said it all.
Trev nodded and stood. “Who?”
“Betty Thornton.”
The news hit Trev hard. He hadn’t seen the older woman or her daughter at the roadblock that morning, but he’d just assumed they were on another shift. Maybe the gossip circle had talked about it but he hadn’t been listening. “I just saw her yesterday,” he said. “I won’t say she looked healthy but I wasn’t expecting this.”
“It can come pretty suddenly when people are weakened with hunger. Especially if they’re getting on in years.” Matt shook his head grimly. “I’d hoped the funerals wouldn’t be coming so often with the weather warming up, as if spring would magically solve all the other problems plaguing the town.”
A heavy silence fell. “What about Alice?” Trev asked. “Her parents are both gone now, right?”
For some reason his friend’s face twisted, almost in guilt. “The Watsons agreed to take her in. I’m not sure they can spare the resources but they’ll do their best.” He clapped Trev on the shoulder. “Come on, if you’re ready.”
“Just a few more bites,” Trev replied, hurriedly shoving food into his mouth. As he finished up Matt went over to kiss Sam goodbye and tussle with his nephews for a minute. From the sounds of it she was suggesting that once one of the others came home to watch over the shelter she’d walk into town to keep him company, and maybe even bring the boys along to give them something to do besides be bored at home.
Before joining his friend Trev filled a sack with wheat, five pounds or so, to give to Alice anonymously via the Watsons. He couldn’t help everyone in town, much as he’d like to, but if he could spare aid for strangers up in the mountains he couldn’t do any less for a neighbor in need. He felt bad he hadn’t thought to give this food yesterday, when it could’ve helped Betty as well. Was it just the way of the world to not know someone needed help, or to have some idea of it but not think to help them, until it was too late?
Easier to blame circumstance than himself, maybe. But again, he couldn’t help everyone. Too little too late was at least better than nothing.
As he was heading out of the shelter Sam intercepted him, Matt and the boys already outside. She looked worried. “I’m worried about Matt,” she said without preamble.
Trev blinked. “Is he sick?”
She shook her head, dark hair flying. “He feels responsible for the town, more than he should. It’s like he’s wearing a lead vest and it’s been getting heavier every day, for months now. I thought going to get you would help, and it has a bit, but when there wasn’t as much food as he’d hoped it all seemed to come back.”
The petite woman swallowed, eyes suddenly swimming with tears. “I don’t know what happened, maybe Betty Thornton’s death, but he’s even worse today. I’ve never seen him like this, even after Razor attacked.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Trev promised. Then he paused, looking closer at Sam’s pale face. “What about you, are you okay?”
She gave a start of surprise and looked almost panicked. “I, um, no, yeah. Just tired.” Without waiting for a response she hurried out to say her goodbyes to her husband.
Trev might’ve expected that sort of response from Jane, at least the leaving without a word part, but it seemed uncharacteristic for Matt’s wife. Maybe while he was talking to Matt about what was weighing him down he’d also talk to his friend about having Sam visit Terry to make sure she wasn’t getting sick.
They brought only one shovel when they set out, since a grave wasn’t big enough for two people to work on at once, and in any case they’d want to take turns to save their strength. The walk into town was a grim and quiet one, Matt not seeming to want to talk and Trev trying to figure out how to ask uncomfortable questions. They passed the park that served as the new graveyard, which was already full, and continued on to the Thorntons’ place less than a block from Matt’s house.
They found it eerily deserted, everyone over at the Watsons’ paying their respects to Alice. Matt led the way to the back corner of the small lot, where someone had marked a square, and as Trev stood to the side his friend began to dig.