Fuel (Best Laid Plans Book 1) (35 page)

Trev accepted the weapon, glad he was carrying his own revolver in its underarm holster as well as his Mini-14. “You want to meet them unarmed?”

“The outcome's the same either way, and anyway meeting them unarmed looks less aggressive. Also if they're in the mood to confiscate weapons rather than push their stupid food for firearms program I don't want ours anywhere to be found.”

That made sense. Trev nodded and trotted down the hill to the woodpile, doing his best not to jostle the guns he held. Once he got behind the cache he hurriedly pulled wood off the pile in the spot they'd planned for easy access, scraped away just a few inches of dirt, and lifted the corner of the tarp to tuck the guns underneath, including taking off his underarm holster to store the revolver as well.

Once he'd covered the cache again he decided to circle far north to return to the shelter from a different direction so he wouldn't give anything away if he was spotted. It meant going all the way around the shelter to get to the south facing door, but to his relief by the time he climbed up to stand next to Lewis, in the concealed sentry post atop the shorter hill the underground structure had been built against, Ferris and the others still hadn't arrived.

As they waited he got a chance to get his first look at Ferris, a small weasel of a man whose stick-up-the-butt posture and absurdly out of place suit screamed petty bureaucrat. He also got a good look at Mandy, who was doing her best to hide behind the six soldiers in full riot gear, including bulletproof shields and helmets. Looking at them Trev was glad they'd hid their guns.

When the group arrived Lewis led the way down to where the road passed the bottom of the hill to meet them. His greeting was directed at Turner, not Ferris. “What's this about, Officer?”

Turner had the grace to look shamefaced. “I've been made the Aspen Hill FETF liaison. Hoarding food in excess of two weeks' supply is illegal according to Federal law.”

“Since when?” Lewis asked evenly.

Before the policeman could answer Ferris spoke up. “Actually, hoarding has been illegal for years now. The law just hasn't been enforced because it's a minor issue at any time except during a disaster. Like now.”

Lewis seemed ignore the interruption, still looking at Turner. “Are you going to help these soldiers rob the people you swore to protect and serve?”

Turner's guilt vanished into irritation. “Come off it, Halsson. You're sitting on enough food to feed half the town while people are starving. This is better for everyone.”

“Everyone but the people you're robbing,” Lewis said, voice still calm. Trev had to admire his cousin's cool head: he knew from personal experience that if he was the one talking he'd be shaking from nerves by now, like he had at the roadblock up in Spanish Fork. In fact even though he wasn't saying a word he still had to fight to keep motionless and stay calm.

Ferris gave a fake yawn. “Sorry if I have no sympathy for selfish lawbreaking hoarders.” He abruptly turned to stare contemptuously at Trev, who gave a start of surprise at the sudden attention. “Not to mention scum who solicit sex from starving, desperate women.”

Trev opened his mouth to protest but Lewis put a quieting hand on his shoulder, still speaking to Turner. “Is he being charged with anything?”

The officer also glared at Trev. “Not at the moment. As long as he denies the charge it's “he said, she said”, and anyway we've got more important things to worry about. Like that illegal bunker you built without getting permits and filled with hoarded supplies that can help the town.”

Lewis was starting to look irritated, but his voice stayed calm. “From what I was able to find in my research the structure is perfectly legal. It's a shed, not intended for habitation. I'll admit we're living there now, but you can hardly fault us for that considering the extenuating circumstances.”

Before Turner could answer Ferris abruptly held up a hand. “Quit wasting our time, hoarder. As of this moment your assets are forfeited, including the structure used to hide illegally stored supplies. You are ordered to vacate the premises.”

His cousin finally turned his attention to the FETF administrator. “And if I refuse?”

“Then we'll be forced to take legal action against you,” Turner cut in, “up to and including use of force if you resist. You preppers should've thought of the consequences before behaving so selfishly.”

“Selfish?” Lewis demanded, finally losing his cool and losing it bad. “
We
anticipated future problems and spent every extra penny we had on necessities instead of on luxuries and impulse buy items like the rest of the country.
We
prepared for the possibility of disaster.
We
learned the skills we'd need to survive. Those people out there in the refugee camp? They
didn't
prepare. They
didn't
think ahead. And when disaster finally came they were in a terrible situation they did nothing to prevent. And now
they
want you to take everything from us so they can have it even though they've done nothing to deserve it and you're calling
us
selfish?”

Turner flushed. “You're selfish because you knew a disaster was coming and only thought about saving yourselves.”

Trev couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. “Dude, less than a minute ago you called us “preppers” like it was something between a joke and a swear word. Before the attack whenever I talked to people about what I'd do if things got bad they actually laughed at me, and just about everyone looked at me like I was a nutjob. How exactly do I go about saving anyone else when they think I'm a joke or a loony?”

“For that matter why should we?” Lewis interrupted. “Ultimately our responsibility is to ourselves, and if there's a problem we can never depend on anyone else to help us if we can't help ourselves, and no one to blame for the consequences. You're talking like everyone else who didn't help themselves has a right to be helped now, even if you have to force other people to help them. Besides, after the disaster hit we donated more food to the storehouse than just about anyone else in town, so I'd say we've already done our part.”

Ferris abruptly cleared his throat, looking impatient. “This isn't about who's right and who's wrong, it's about the law. It's illegal to have more than 2 weeks of food storage and according to the testimony of this woman you have much, much more than that, so it will be confiscated. You built this structure without permits or proper blueprints or any official oversight hoping a loophole would save you, but it won't. It, too, will be confiscated. If you've got a problem with that take it up with your local, state, and Federal leaders at the next election. Until then obey the law or be arrested, and be grateful we're not bothering to arrest you anyway.”

Trev opened his mouth to protest further, but before he could the FETF administrator shot him a dark look and raised one fist in a silent command. The six soldiers with him lifted their weapons to the firing position, and for the third time in his life Trev found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Unlike Nelson, though, he doubted these guys had forgotten to chamber a round. They were as ready to use their weapons as the law enforcement at the Spanish Fork roadblock had been. He very slowly lifted his hands in surrender.

Lewis's shoulders sagged in defeat and he also lifted his hands in surrender. “I guess there's not much we can do about it,” he said. “Can we at least cart out the bare minimum necessities? Winter clothes, blankets, camping equipment, 2 weeks' worth of food, and personal items?”

Maybe Ferris was feeling generous after his huge score, or maybe there was a shred of decency left in the man, but he nodded slightly. “We'll keep an eye on what you load up.”

Trev almost laughed in relief. The necessities would be vital, of course, especially the winter gear and camping equipment, but the most important thing on that list wasn't anything his cousin had mentioned but what they'd be using to
carry
everything else.

They had two wagons. One was a sturdy cart Lewis with his typical forward thinking had purchased while they were still building the shelter, capable of hauling eight hundred pounds and big enough to haul a decent volume, with either a pushbar or a belt harness for pulling it. In truth its weight capacity was far better than one person could manage, and Trev had never seen his cousin tow more than three or four hundred pounds on it.

The other wasn't nearly as impressive, just a 4-wheeled moving dolly Trev had talked his parents into letting him keep after they moved to Michigan, which he'd screwed a sheet of plywood cut to size over a frame of 2x4s onto and used a basic rope tied in the front two corners to pull it. It wasn't nearly as reliable and couldn't hold even half the weight of the other one, but it was just as important they have it. As long as they stuck to roads of some kind, even dirt, they would be able to haul their stuff if need be.

Trev hadn't even considered the wagons sitting beside the shed behind them as a necessary resource until Lewis mentioned them, but there was no way they could've walked away with two empty wagons while leaving everything else behind without drawing immediate suspicion about what they were planning to haul. Now, thanks to Lewis's quick thinking, that problem was solved.

Lewis reluctantly turned and started for the front of the shelter as everyone followed behind. Trev could see his cousin's reluctance to unlock the heavy metal-sheathed door and lead the way inside, but Lewis did it.

Turner whistled as he stepped inside, and as Ferris followed he looked on the verge of soiling himself in delight. The soldiers all cursed in disbelief as they filed in, while at the back of the group Mandy tugged on the FETF administrator's arm and gave him a smug “I told you.”

“Make yourselves at home,” Lewis said, very nearly not sounding sarcastic. “We'll start gathering up our necessities.” He motioned to Trev and hurried over to the living area, pulling an already prepared backpack out from beside his trunk and setting it on his bed. He opened the trunk next and began emptying it of winter gear and other useful items.

Trev started for Mandy to confront her about her role in all this, but before he'd gone more than a step a FETF soldier gave him a warning glare from behind his face protector. “Don't even think of it.”

He stopped. “I just wanted to-”

The man stepped between him and Mandy. “Don't touch her, don't talk to her, don't even look at her.”

Trev nodded and turned away to begin his own packing. As he went Mandy sauntered over to a beanbag in the living area and plopped down onto it, calling at his back. “You know I'm getting a reward for this. Two weeks' worth of ration vouchers.” He ignored her as he hurried to his bed and began piling things up, although he couldn't help but notice that the soldier seemed to have no problem with
her
talking to
him
.

He didn't have nearly the store of useful supplies his cousin had, but he gathered up everything he thought his wagon could hold and began moving the stuff out to the wagons by the shed as Lewis followed suit.

Meanwhile Ferris had taken out a clipboard and was already tallying the food stores and other items as the soldiers began shifting things around as if searching for hidden loot. Trev interrupted them just long enough to gather up two weeks' worth of canned food for himself and Lewis.

By the time they'd finished loading up the wagons with everything they could manage from the shelter Trev had begun to feel like a trespasser in the comfortable, snug underground home they'd created. Ferris was already acting like he owned the place, barking orders and cataloguing everything. Lewis seemed to feel it too, because he was in a hurry to tell the FETF administrator that they were ready to leave.

Before anything else Ferris forced them to go through the indignity of being frisked, then the short, thin bureaucrat personally inspected their wagons for contraband or whatever else he thought he'd find. Trev couldn't help but feel a little tense as the man poked through his possessions, worried that some arbitrary whim on the man's part would get him in trouble, but thankfully Ferris didn't raise any alarms as he moved on to Lewis's larger and better filled wagon.

Once the administrator had rummaged through their stuff to his heart's content, withholding a few small but valuable items for what seemed purely greed or spite, he stepped back and waved them on their way. Lewis wasted no time in pulling his wagon down the dirt driveway from the shelter to the dirt road, where he turned west towards the foothills leading up to the Manti-La Sal range.

Trev hurried to follow, doing his best to ignore the itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that the FETF soldiers had their guns pointed at his back. He didn't turn to check.

* * * * *

With his cousin leading the way they pulled their wagons up the road to where it ran behind the hill out of sight of the shelter.

Two wagons loaded with a few pitiful possessions. Everything they had left in the world aside from what was in the cache. Trev knew he should feel angry but instead he just felt numb, like he'd been hit in the same place too many times and it didn't hurt anymore. It seemed like ever since the Gulf refineries attack people had been robbing him, more often successful than not. It was BS, and within him was building the sort of dull, grinding frustration that threatened to overflow into a boil.