Reclamation (Best Laid Plans Book 4) (4 page)

In the end they agreed that the gain was worth the risk. It probably helped that Trev had described his hamburger in detail to people who, even before this grueling trip, had been making do on barely edible internment camp rations for weeks, and food storage or fish and game all winter before that.

It never paid to underestimate the persuasive power of a half pound of well seasoned and grilled meat.

The only thing left to decide was whether to trust in the sheriff's integrity. They eventually agreed that if they were going in, there was no reason to hide the truck and go in on foot. For one thing there was the risk that someone might discover the vehicle, more than likely a Newtown patrol, and take it from them.

At that point the family could claim it was theirs, but finder's keepers would make that claim pretty weak. Especially in light of such a prize. They also didn't want to split up the group by leaving anyone behind to guard it, even though his parents and uncle liked that idea.

The main issue was, again, that if they were going into Newtown they pretty much had to take the opportunity to buy enough supplies to fill the truck. The family need something to survive on, and any surplus they could spare for the town would save lives.

Unfortunately there was no way to purchase that much wheat without rousing suspicions, so they might as well be forthright. If they went in on foot to buy everything and haul it out to some hidden location outside of town, and the people of Newtown decided to go scour the area and found the vehicle, there would be plenty of cause for both sides to point fingers at the other. At that point Newtown had the firepower to back up their side of the argument and they might decide to take the truck anyway.

It was a situation with no ideal outcome. Under the circumstances they were desperate enough that if it came down to it, the family was willing to trust in the integrity of a man who'd done right by Trev in the past.

Although not completely. The one thing they
could
do to make the truck a less tempting target, and offer themselves an alternative if Newtown did steal the vehicle, was hide as much fuel as they could. They'd leave enough in the truck to drive a hundred miles, which hopefully would be enough to avoid suspicion that they'd hidden any extra diesel, and cache the rest.

If Vernon ended up stealing the truck with that amount of fuel it would be a problem but not a disaster, since with any luck they'd be able to find another working diesel vehicle to take them the rest of the way home. They decided to cache the weapons and other captured gear as well, since Vernon would just ask them to check them anyway, and if he ended up stealing the truck it wasn't very likely he'd return them.

They buried everything at the edge of a meadow several hundred yards off the road, carrying it all by foot and being careful not to make a trail. They had to dig with their hands and rocks and cover it with leaves and clumps of dirt once they finished, and it wasn't anywhere close to the best cache Trev had done. But this far from town out in the middle of nowhere he hoped it would be good enough.

Once that task was complete the family continued on to town, with Lucas driving and Trev next to the window with his siblings riding in the space between them. Oddly enough, even though he was no longer alone and had already had a chance to meet the sheriff, Trev felt far more vulnerable than he had during his first visit as they made their way up the old road towards the grain silos shining up ahead.

“Holy cow, they're huge!” Jim said.

Normally Linda would've come down on her younger brother with pure disgust for stating the obvious like that, but she was too busy gaping herself. “Are they really full of food?” she asked hopefully.

“Maybe not full, but close enough,” Trev replied. He pointed out the window. “There's one of the sentry posts. They do a pretty good job of protecting the town.”

Lucas slowed down, eyeing the spot cautiously. They could barely see the top of a hunched man with a weapon aimed their way. “Should we stop here until they decide what to do with us, so we don't spook them?”

Trev hesitated. “The sentries didn't bother me last time I came in. They let me ride right into town. I guess they don't want to spoil a potential customer's impression of an open trading post too much.”

As if to confirm that, the man they were looking at abruptly stood and lowered his rifle, waving them on into town. Trev waved back as his uncle continued forward, still driving slowly.

However friendly the town might've wanted to look, when they reached Fred Vernon's house at the edge they found four men waiting with the sheriff behind a portable riot control barricade of reinforced plexiglass. A quick glance around showed several more men in ideal sniper spots. A tack strip had also been laid across the road, looking oddly out of place.

When they were still twenty feet out Vernon stepped forward and held out one hand, and Lucas slowed the truck to a stop as the sheriff cautiously approached the driver's side window. Vernon's expression and posture were friendly enough, but he kept his hand on his weapon the entire time.

“Been a while since I saw a running vehicle,” he called, giving a low whistle as he looked the truck over. “Lucky my boys aren't the sort to shoot first and ask questions later; you caused quite a stir driving up in a blockhead truck. It
is
Gold Bloc, right?”

“Captured,” Lucas answered. “We're US citizens, and we're not planning on causing any trouble.”

“That's good to hear.” Vernon reached the window and looked past Lucas at Linda and Jim, eyes softening slightly at the sight of the younger passengers. Then he saw Trev and gave a start of surprise, peering closer. “Hey, didn't you stop here a few weeks ago? Came on a bicycle, checked that .45?”

Trev nodded. “Yeah. Trevor Smith. Good to see you again, Sheriff. We're on the trip back and want to buy some supplies.”

“Well I see you've upgraded from your last ride!” Vernon tucked his thumbs behind his belt and grinned as he looked the truck over again.

“Yeah,” Trev answered. He tried to think of something else to say, but before he could the sheriff turned back to his uncle.

“That's probably a story worth hearing. Later.” He offered his hand. “Fred Vernon, Sheriff of Newtown.”

Trev's uncle quickly shook. “Lucas Halsson, Trev's uncle. These are my other niece and nephew. My wife, sister, and brother-in-law are in the back with my daughter.”

“Well I'll be honest, you folks look pretty rough.” Vernon sniffed slightly. “And smell it too. We can offer you hot water, clean clothes, food, and beds for reasonable prices. First, though . . .” His eyes strayed towards the northeast. “You folks have any news? We've got what people are saying over the radio, but given everything that's happened it just doesn't seem like much in the way of information.”

“Not much news, but some stories,” Trev answered, ignoring his uncle's warning look. “We saw a mushroom cloud, from closer than any of us would like.”

Vernon casually but hastily dropped his arm away from the dusty vehicle, giving it a cautious look. “We've got Geiger counters and iodine tablets too, if you need it. We'll probably want to sweep you before you go any farther to make sure you're not bringing in any contaminants.”

“Right,” Lucas said. “I hadn't considered that possibility, sorry.”

“That's fine.” The sheriff turned and called an order to one of his deputies, who immediately turned and ran off down the street. “Shouldn't take long. While we wait we can get the formalities taken care of, then maybe you'd be willing to share some of those stories you've got.”

With Vernon's encouragement they got everyone out of the truck and Lucas introduced the family to the sheriff, who insisted they call him Fred. The man had his other deputy bring a couple jugs of water, which they quickly passed around the group taking eager, grateful gulps until their thirst had slackened. As they emptied the jugs Fred laid down the town's rules and checked them and the truck for weapons.

Not too long after that the deputy showed up with an ancient looking Geiger counter and ran it over them. To Trev's immense relief they barely registered above background, and the truck also checked out. Everyone else looked relieved as well, especially his aunt, who'd admitted that she'd been looking for symptoms of radiation sickness in every discomfort over the last day or so.

“Looks like you won't need those iodine tablets after all,” the sheriff said, waving his men away now that he was satisfied the newcomers didn't pose a danger to the town in any way. “Unless of course you wanted to stock up on some in case of future need. Which wouldn't be the worst idea under the circumstances.”

“We just might,” Trev's dad answered. “We had to leave a lot of things behind and have lots of stuff we'll need to buy, if it's available.”

Fred grinned. “That's what I like to hear.” He turned and waved towards his house. “Why don't you folks stay with me tonight? I can make up some extra beds, and have Westman bring you over a hot meal from his grill.”

“We don't know how to thank you,” Clair said, looking overwhelmed.

The sheriff's grin broadened. “You can thank me by making big purchases tomorrow. Welcome to Newtown.”

* * * * *

Fred proved to be an ideal host. After a flurry of activity getting everyone their own beds set up in a comfortable number of rooms, he saw that they got enough grilled steaks and instant mashed potatoes, complete with fresh butter, to satisfy them.

While they ate he boiled up water on a wood burning stove in the kitchen, providing them with soap and clean washcloths so they could wash up. He also handed out enough t-shirts and sweatpants for all of them, and offered the services of one of the townspeople to wash their clothes and dry them overnight. Last of all he pointed the way to his bathroom, which was a similar setup to the one Trev had used in the Newtown Bar and Grill.

Once all those tasks were taken care of the sheriff politely invited them to let him know if they needed anything else and retired to his study, where he'd set up his own bed. He good-naturedly waved off their effusive thanks, and aside from promising to take their dirty clothes to be washed once they'd washed up and changed they didn't hear from him for the rest of the night.

More comfortable in the presence of just family, everyone took care of all their basic needs and indulged in the unexpected luxury of washing themselves and putting on clean clothes. The mood of the group that had been tense and borderline argumentative all day finally lifted, and there were a lot more smiles. Even laughter, especially when Trev, his siblings, and their cousin caught sight of their parents looking unfamiliar in their new pajamas.

Although everyone admitted they were a huge improvement on the coveralls they'd been forced to wear in the internment camp.

As everyone else settled into bed Trev headed out to check on the truck and make sure everything was secure for the night. Lucas had locked the doors and the gas tanks before they went inside, but it didn't hurt to double check.

His dad announced he would come along, and together they went over the vehicle. Afterwards Trev took a moment to stand on the porch, watching the sun lowering towards the horizon over the unkempt fields beyond the town. Even exhausted as he was it felt good to be on his feet after sitting for so long, and his dad seemed to have the same idea as he came over to stand beside him with his hands on the railing. “Hard to believe the sun still rises and sets after yesterday,” he said quietly.

Trev nodded, letting a contented silence stretch on for a few minutes.

After a while his dad turned to rest a hand on his shoulder. “It's hard to say what needs to be said sometimes, but I just wanted you to know how much it means to all of us that you risked your life to come and find us. When that machine gun was tearing after you yesterday, when it seemed impossible you could survive-”

His dad sucked in a sharp breath, mild features twisting in sudden grief, and he pulled Trev into a fierce hug. “I'm just glad you're okay, son.” Trev hugged him back, tears pricking at his eyes. Especially when his dad continued. “Everything you've been through, everything you've accomplished . . . you can't believe how proud I am of you. I just wanted you to know.”

Trev tried to reply, but the words wouldn't come through the lump in his throat. After a bit his dad pulled away, and together they watched the sun sink towards the ruined fields. By mutual unspoken agreement they went in to sleep not long afterwards, before the sun had fully set, and as Trev pulled Vernon's gifted blankets around him his exhaustion hit him with the weight of the truck parked outside.

He slept like the dead for almost ten hours, and still felt like he could go back to sleep if he wanted when he opened his eyes to a predawn glow trickling in through the window. It wasn't much, barely enough to see his hand in front of his eyes, but he resisted the temptation of his comfortable bed and pulled himself into a sitting position.

As far as he knew he was the first one awake. He sat in the predawn darkness for a while, savoring the quiet outside and the peaceful sounds of breathing and soft snores from his siblings, before finally reaching over to pull on his boots. Careful not to wake Jim and Linda he got to his feet as quietly as possible and slipped out of the room, then down the stairs and through the front door into a morning so early most would still call it night.

The air was crisp and chilly, and as far as he could see no one but him was up yet and no lights were on in the town. He shivered slightly, wishing he had a jacket, and hurried over to check on the truck and make sure none of the diesel had been siphoned.

As far as he could tell it hadn't, and the clumsy inspection he made, mostly by touch, reassured him that nothing had been stolen and the vehicle hadn't been tampered with. He had half feared he might find Westman and his barflies poking around while the town slept, and it was a relief to see that nothing was amiss.

“Not much fuel in there.”

Trev jumped a full foot, and it took all his willpower to not shout in surprise as he whirled towards the front porch he'd just walked across. The sheriff was there reclined on his porch swing, a dark shape in the darkness. It was no wonder he'd missed him on his way out.