Fuel (Best Laid Plans Book 1) (29 page)

“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.”

“How many calories?”

They all looked at him like that was an odd question. From Terry's blank expression it was also one they couldn't answer. “I don't know, two meals.”

Matt shook his head. “It doesn't matter. Pack up anything you need and get ready to leave in the morning. There's food in Aspen Hill and it'll be much safer there.”

To Trev's surprise April and Terry shared doubtful looks. “Do you have enough food for all of us to make the trip down?” April asked.

Matt also looked surprised. “Well no. It was all confiscated at a roadblock down in Spanish Fork.”

“Spanish Fork!” Terry exclaimed. “So you've come the rest of the way hungry? You're in as bad shape as we are it sounds like.”

Trev shrugged in annoyance. “We've gone hungry for a couple days and it's been hard, and we'll all have to go hungry for even longer to make it back to Aspen Hill. But it's better than staying here.”

April gripped her husband's hand tightly. “I don't know. The FETF coordinators say things will settle down within a week or so, and then they'll have buses to drive us home.”

Trev laughed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? Provo and Orem are burning and the foothills above them are walls of flame. Every building in Salt Lake City has been wrecked and we know firsthand that the houses in Midvale have all been trashed by looters. Things aren't going to get better in a week, and you just got done telling us how horrible it is in camp. There's over a hundred thousand people here, all completely reliant on whatever supplies FETF can bring in while they still have fuel. How long do you think it'll be before they run out and you all wind up starving to death in here?”

Aaron abruptly started crying at his tone, and everyone glared at him. “That's enough, Trev!” Matt said sharply. “Give us a minute, will you? I want to talk to April and Terry.”

Trev wanted to explode at his friend for getting on his case after everything he'd done to help him, but he realized it was hunger and fatigue affecting his behavior. Matt knew the situation as well as he did, and his friend would be better suited to convincing his family about what needed to happen. At this point Trev would probably just end up antagonizing them and making them even less likely to go if he insisted.

“Sorry,” he said shortly. “Been a rough few days.” He turned and left the tent, finding a spot not far away where he could lean against the canvas and rest.

About a half hour later the others filed out of the tent and Trev made his way over to them. “We'll go,” Matt announced. “Tomorrow morning, after we've had two good meals and rest.”

“Good news there,” Terry added with a smile. “At least for you guys. Camp policy is that new arrivals get double rations for their first meal. To make up for any deprivation they might've endured before reaching the camp.”

That was good news, and Trev found himself grinning. “Sorry about my earlier blowup.”

April came over and gave him a hug. “There's nothing to be sorry about, you were just telling us what we needed to hear. Thanks for coming to help us. You didn't need to do that.”

Trev shrugged, embarrassed. As a group they made their way to the large mess tents near the entrance where FETF workers were checking ID necklaces to make sure nobody was trying to sneak an extra meal. The line was long, and the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon as they waited.

“My favorite camp pastime,” Terry said dryly. He was tossing a little soft ball to Aaron to pass the time, while Paul chased after it trying to get it from his older brother. “It's like the world's biggest neighborhood potluck. Except people try to steal your ID to get more meals. From what I hear the FETF coordinators really run you through the ringer if your tag gets stolen, too, because people have tried to swindle them by claiming they lost their tag to get extras.”

“Good to see everyone's pulling together in a time of crisis,” Trev said wryly.

Once they reached the end of the line they got bad news: apparently the double rations policy had ended yesterday. Not only that but after they'd gotten their bowls of canned soup and had moved away to eat April insisted the portions were smaller than they had been last time.

“Those are both bad signs,” Trev said between shoveling down his food. He intended to lick the plate clean. “Cutting rations will lead to unrest in the camp and FETF knows it. They'd only do it if they had to.”

Terry gave him a tight smile. “We've already agreed to go, man. You don't need to keep selling us.”

“I'm just saying,” Trev answered with a shrug. “You think things were bad out in the urban sprawl? Think how they'd be if a riot started with everyone packed close together in tents. Flammable tents.”

An awkward silence fell. Matt cleared his throat and reached into one of his backpack's pockets. “Everyone remember how to play Scum?” he asked. “How about we finish up here and play a few rounds before bedtime? It'd be nice to lighten the mood.”

Trev got the hint. “Sorry, I'll stop being such a downer.”

After dinner Trev and Matt escorted April's family back to their tent, then after an hour or so of relaxing and socializing headed towards the back of the camp to the tent the FETF coordinator had assigned them. When they found it Trev noticed that it had more of a bachelor feel to it, with no partitions and a bunch of other single men ranging from late teens to the elderly.

He and Matt were both ready to crash after their first meal in days and immediately headed to their assigned bunks near the back of the tent. Once there they flipped for top bunk and Trev won. It was a dubious honor, because for safety's sake they decided to put their backpacks up there tucked around his head with each of his arms through a strap. Trev immediately realized it was going to be an uncomfortable night, but it beat having their stuff stolen. He also slept holding the bear spray, and encouraged Matt to do the same.

Even though they were both ready to sleep the others in the tent weren't, and some stayed awake until late in the night talking or playing cards. Trev supposed if the refugees didn't have anything else to do in camp than sleep then such late nights wouldn't be too unusual, and better they were spent playing cards than causing trouble. Luckily they didn't make too much noise and Trev was mostly able to sleep through it, only waking slightly at sudden outbursts of noise, usually laughter. That didn't stop him from clutching his bear spray each time he started awake. Especially at one point late at night when he heard shouting from somewhere else in the camp, along with a few screams.

He couldn't wait to be out of here in the morning.

Chapter Fourteen

Unexpected Bounty

Just after dawn Trev and Matt gathered their packs and went to find April's family, leaving everyone else in the tent still asleep after their late night.

The Lynns were all packed and ready to go as well, the adults and Aaron wearing school backpacks while Terry also pulled a child's toy wagon piled high with their few possessions. As a group they made their way to the mess tents for a morning meal of cereal with chalky reconstituted powdered milk, refilled their water bottles at the station near the gate, and when they were finally ready to leave walked over to where refugees continued to stream into the camp in a solid but orderly flow.

Once they got to the gate Matt went ahead of the group and introduced himself to the soldiers there, then explained their situation. To Trev's surprise the FETF guards listened patiently to his friend's story, only stopping to ask a few clarifying questions like how far away Aspen Hill was and what their situation would be like when they got there.

When Matt finished the soldiers looked at each other and shrugged. “All right, travel safely,” one said as the others turned to clear them a space to go the other way against the flow of refugees.

Trev did his best not to look shocked. He'd actually felt a lot of trepidation coming to the gate, afraid they wouldn't be allowed to leave. But even while hoping that they'd be able to he hadn't expected it to ever be that easy.

In spite of himself Matt looked a bit surprised too. “Just like that? We were afraid we'd have trouble getting out.”

One of the soldiers handling the refugees shrugged. “We're having a hard enough time feeding and managing everyone here. If you've got a better situation somewhere else and you can take care of yourselves everyone wins.”

“How about food for the journey?” Trev asked, stepping forward. “On the way up here the food in our packs was confiscated at a roadblock.”

At that the soldiers lost a bit of their good cheer. “Don't know anything about roadblock confiscations,” the first soldier answered. “If they're happening none of those supplies are making it here. Are you sure it wasn't thieves pretending to be law enforcement?”

“It looked pretty official,” Matt answered, giving Trev a warning look. Looked like his friend still didn't trust him to open his mouth after the way he'd handled himself at the roadblock. “They said it was some sort of martial law mandate that all food being carried by people should be considered stolen and confiscated.”

The soldiers exchanged apathetic looks and a few shrugged. “Sounds like BS to me. I haven't heard of any mandate like that. They were probably just after your food.”

Trev had to wonder why the cops at the roadblock would make up a law just to steal their food when they already had them at gunpoint. Maybe to help them sleep better at night knowing they'd done something slightly less vile than armed robbery, or maybe so he and Matt wouldn't complain to other law enforcement? Or maybe there really was such a mandate and these FETF soldiers didn't know about it.

Matt didn't seem to care about any of that, his focus on the here and now. “Anyway it happened and now we've got no food and a long way to travel. Is there a way we could get some rations? Some refugees told us you've been giving people enough to get them to wherever they've been sent.”

“We were, for a while,” the lone female soldier in the group said. “Now we aren't. Sorry, we have our own mandate that's actually real and came down the chain. We can only distribute food within the camp, to encourage people to stay put. It's the best way to prevent more riots as well as making it easier to be sure everyone's getting a fair share.”

“Most of the people in here had nothing to do with the riots, though,” Trev pointed out. “Weren't the rioters being sent to Point of the Mountain?”

A few of the soldiers snorted. “The ones we caught,” the first soldier replied. “I wouldn't be so sure that makes many of the refugees we're protecting in here innocent. From what I've seen I'll bet you good money that the rioters were some of the first people to come looking for a handout when we set up this camp. And it's not like the people in here have been twiddling their thumbs and singing Kumbayah, either. We've had constant problems keeping the peace, and more crimes and instances of mass unrest seem to happen every day.”

The soldier who'd been speaking pointed to the cleared path through the crowd in invitation. “So leave while you still can and best of luck to you out there.”

“Thanks,” Matt said sincerely as he caught Trev's arm, motioned back to his sister and her family, and hurried through the crowd. Once they were out of ear shot his friend turned to him. “Come on, man. Talking to the FETF guards made me uncomfortable enough without you interrogating them. With every question you asked I expected them to change their minds and turn us back. Is there some childhood trauma you're working through that makes you lip off to people who can cause you problems?”

“You don't think it was worth it to at least ask and maybe get some food for the trip?” Trev shot back. “Besides, I didn't say anything they'd have a problem with.”

“You never know these days,” Matt said, but he let the matter drop.

To avoid the flood of refugees coming the other way they walked a hundred feet or so to the right of the beaten path, uncomfortably aware of eyes on them with every step they took. Trev wasn't happy about the attention, and he became even less happy a little over an hour later when they reached I-80 and he realized the others wanted to go straight south from there rather than following the highway back to I-15 and taking the Interstate all the way down to Spanish Fork.

“We're not like you guys,” April said firmly when he protested. “We don't have the strength to go days without food, especially not the boys, and since we won't be able to manage nearly the same speed as you did coming up we have to find a solution. We talked it over with Matt and agreed it would be better to skirt the suburbs west of the big cities so we can forage: anything left in gardens, animals we might be able to catch, heck, even insects.”

“Also we'll be near the Jordan River so we can get water more reliably,” Terry added. “We don't have many bottles so we have to stay closer to whatever water sources we can find.”

Matt nodded. “I told them about your cache along 6, so our priority will be to get there as quickly as possible. But until then we need food so we have to try this.”

Trev didn't like it but he could see the point they were making. Terry and April had to bring their possessions in an overloaded wagon and small backpacks, they weren't used to hiking, and they had the children. There was no way they'd be able to race hunger south to the cache. “It's going to be ten times more dangerous even in the suburbs so we'll have to be constantly on guard. And we might not even find food,” he warned.

“Then we keep going towards our goal as we look and we travel carefully.” April gave him a patient look. “If you want to split off and rush for home we'll understand.”

He did his best not to feel insulted by the offer. He'd come all this way to help them . . . did they honestly think he was going to ditch them now just when things were getting hardest? In answer he started across I-80, motioning. “Let's go, then. It took us 4 days to get up here, it might take twice that long getting back. The sooner we get started the better.”

The others followed as he led the way east on the Interstate to the first off ramp. Where it reached the first intersection they stood for a long time looking at the street leading south and listening for any sounds of danger.

“Shouldn't we keep going?” Terry asked.

“Shh,” Trev hissed, starting for the nearest source of cover behind a parked van on the other side of the intersection. “Time to get back to slinking our way through the urban jungle.”

Matt followed, wary and with a hand on his spray, and when they reached the van they stopped and looked around warily as they waited for the others to catch up to them. “What are you doing?” April asked.

Matt turned to her, expression grim. “We've seen a lot of chaos on these streets while making our way up here. Some really bad stuff. Luckily we were able to avoid it by being careful, but on our way south we need to do our best to be quiet and not be noticed. So no talking and we keep our ears open.”

“Okay sure,” Terry said. He glanced back at the wagon, which Paul was currently riding on while Aaron walked alongside. “I might have to have you help me with this and carrying the boys as we travel.”

“No problem.” Matt sighed, staring at the street ahead. It was quiet and empty, for now. “I wish I had more cans of bear spray for you guys, just in case. We'll have to make do with what we have.”

Trev ended up walking about a block ahead of the group to scout for danger. That worked out pretty well because even as slow and careful as he was being he still managed to stay ahead of the others. The Lynn family had their sons to deal with and weren't used to walking, both of which slowed them down in subtle but noticeable ways.

In spite of his caution he didn't so much as hear anything to suggest people were around. Either they were lucky or everyone nearby had already evacuated to Antelope Island. Or maybe the looters preferred to do their mischief in the dark with such a strong FETF presence not far away.

In any case the hike went smoothly as the somewhat chilly morning gave way to noon. At about that time Paul and Aaron began complaining about hunger. April explained that since they'd only had two meals in the camp this wasn't unusual, but Trev was still worried about the noise they were making. Especially when Paul began crying and looked on the verge of a meltdown.

“We need to search for food,” Terry told him when he dropped back to see what the commotion was.

Trev frowned. “Where exactly are we going to find it? Even if we went house to house I guarantee anything in the pantries was eaten weeks ago, probably even before looters came through here looking for scraps.”

“I'm not thinking of pantries,” April said, pointing up at a nearby hill where more upscale houses formed their own little neighborhood. They were set back in large yards. “There's a good chance we'll find gardens, fruit trees, or other things there.”

“Decorative plants, maybe,” Trev said doubtfully.

“It's worth a look.” Terry led the way to the next intersection and started making for the wealthier neighborhood, and Trev once again hurried ahead to resume his scouting: richer houses meant looters were more likely to be sniffing around.

When they reached the neighborhood he searched carefully, but although all the houses had broken windows and a few had furniture and broken dishes strewn across the yards none looked occupied. He dropped back to rejoin the others and see which house they wanted to check out first.

It turned out no searching was required at all. April took one look at the nearest front yard, which was carefully cultivated with rosebushes around the porch and lining the sidewalk leading up to the front door, and grinned. “Jackpot!”

Trev frowned. “How? I'm not seeing any garden or fruit trees.”

Matt's sister grinned at him. “There's food right in front of you, Mr. Know-It-All. Sure, people might've grabbed every can, box, and tin in the pantry, but they only went for the food they were familiar with.” To demonstrate April walked over to the nearest rosebush and plucked off one of the fat seed pods. “Haven't you ever heard of rose hips?”

“That's what those are?” Trev asked, surprised.

“Oh hey, yeah,” Matt said, slapping his forehead. “Man, I'm such an idiot. Now's just the time when they're in season, too. Not to mention we've been walking past tons of dandelions and other edible weeds.”

Trev stared between the two siblings in blank confusion. “Edible . . . weeds?”

His friend had already plucked off a rose hip of his own and pulled out his small pocketknife/fingernail clippers, the only thing resembling a weapon the police at the roadblock hadn't confiscated, so he could cut off the ends and slice it in half. As Trev watched Matt used the knife's tip to scoop out the seeds, then began carefully scraping the inner wall to remove the small white hairs. After carefully inspecting the inside to make sure it was clean Matt popped it into his mouth, groaning with satisfaction.

Following his friend's example Trev plucked a rose hip off the bush and used his fingernail to dig out the end, then popped it whole into his mouth. He was used to eating fruit with seeds and planned to just spit them out.

“Uh oh,” April said. “Bad idea. Spit it out, Trevor.”

“Huh?” he asked around a full mouth. The rose hip was slightly tart, but otherwise tasted delicious.

“Spit it out. Didn't you see Matt scrape out those white hairs? Those things are like fiberglass and have been used to make itching powder, so imagine what they'll feel like going through your insides. Also the seeds are slightly toxic.”

Trev hurriedly spat it out. Served him right for ignoring his friend's demonstration of how to properly eat it. “This is a great idea,” he said as he grabbed another rose hip and used his fingernails to do what Matt was doing with his knife. Terry had a multi-tool he was using while April also used her fingernails. “I should've thought about edible plants on the way up. Lewis would have.”

“And I should have, too,” Matt added, passing cleaned rose hip halves to his nephews, who immediately popped them into their mouths and chewed contentedly. “Mom makes weed salads every now and again. They don't taste great but they're healthy and don't cost anything.”