It was already proving a blessing on this trip, since with it they’d been able to travel the distance between the town and the hideout quickly on bicycles, and still had a means to haul the elk home. What would’ve otherwise taken days on foot pulling a wagon could be done before nightfall.
Trev hopped on his bike and followed Lewis and Jane south along the road, to the closest point to where the dressed elk waited wrapped in a tarp. It wasn’t very far, which wasn’t the problem: the problem was that it was at the bottom of the slope, so to get it up to the bikes they’d have to haul it up steep, rough terrain using brute force.
And scrawny or not, that carcass was heavy.
His cousin and Jane stood up on the road pulling on ropes, while on the hillside Trev did his best to push from below and guide the tarp-wrapped bundle over or around obstacles. It didn’t take long for him to have a new appreciation for the suffering of Sisyphus, although thankfully the elk never rolled down the hill. Although it was less than a hundred yards the task took forever, and they were all panting like bellows by the end of it.
“Think we burned more calories than we’ve got here?” Trev quipped as they loaded the bundle onto the trailer.
“Sure feels like it,” Lewis replied with a final grunt as he shoved his end into place. “But with your fish I think we still come out ahead.”
“Oh good. I was starting to feel like I wasted my time, while you two got to enjoy yourselves and ended up bagging some big game.”
His cousin grinned wide and shrugged. “Hey, if you ever want to bring Deb up here you’re…” he trailed off at Trev’s expression, and his smile faded. “Sorry, that was really tasteless.”
“Even I wouldn’t have said that,” Jane agreed.
Lewis shifted uncomfortably. “I know she went through some terrible stuff. I just figured with how much time you spend together that, you know, something was happening there.”
Trev shook off the awkward change of direction the conversation had taken. “Not really. Our relationship isn’t like that.”
At least he thought it wasn’t; Deb was still recovering after what she’d suffered at the hands of the blockheads, and it was hard to know what she felt about things. The fact that she’d basically become a second shadow, following Trev around as he carried out his duties protecting the town, suggested she might be interested in him too. Or at least she found some comfort in being around him. But he was erring way on the side of caution to avoid causing her any distress.
The brown-haired woman seemed fine with that, neither of them in a hurry to rush things.
Trev did feel a bit guilty about leaving her behind today, but he wasn’t about to put Lewis on the spot about bringing someone else along to a location his cousin was trying to keep secret. There was also the fact that Deb was at his side from sunup to sundown most days. While he welcomed her company and enjoyed being around her, a bit of a break was welcome.
Lewis and Jane seemed happy to let the discussion end on that note, and they all mounted their bikes in silence to start back down the road.
Which turned out to be a good thing, because that silence continued as they left the bikes behind and started down the hillside towards the hideout; otherwise they might’ve missed the sound of men’s voices below.
Trev froze, hand instinctively going to the MP-443 Grach holstered at his hip. The 9mm was still a bit unfamiliar after trading away his 1911, as was his new AK-47, but all the volunteers had switched to them. Not because they favored the weapons they’d scavenged from hundreds of blockheads they’d beaten on the slope south of Highway 31, but because they’d run out of ammo for their own.
He’d done enough practicing with the pistol to be confident his of his aim, but he wished he hadn’t left the AK with his bike. It was less than fifty yards behind him, but Lewis and Jane had already unslung their .308s and didn’t look in the mood to waste time turning back. There didn’t seem to be much option but to follow them and hope a pistol was enough.
They continued cautiously down the slope, Lewis altering their path to keep them behind cover but with a clear view of the hideout, where the voices were coming from, once it came in sight. They didn’t have to go far before they were able to see the intruders, four men who appeared unarmed aside from a hunting knife at one’s belt.
The looters had obviously come for the stove. They’d already removed the stovepipe and were in the process of hauling the small cast iron bulk out the narrow door, cursing at the weight and awkward grips. Not far from the hideout sat a crude sled, nothing more than a square of sheet metal with holes drilled into two corners for a loop of rope.
Lewis slung his rifle again, taking a moment to check that his 1911 in its shoulder holster was still easily accessible, then continued down the slope. Although he didn’t abandon stealth completely he moved more quickly. “Check the surrounding area while I talk to them, in case there are more,” he told them tersely. Trev and Jane both nodded without responding.
Near the bottom of the slope, a good twenty yards from where the men still struggled, Lewis paused and raised his voice. “Gentlemen!”
The four intruders dropped the stove in shock and whirled towards them, one man uttering a foul oath and grabbing his knee where the lip had banged it. Trev spared them just a moment to make sure none were producing any hidden weapons, then joined Jane in inspecting the trees and meadow around them for any potential threats.
His cousin continued in a mild tone. “That stove belongs to us.”
One of the four got over his surprise faster than the others, and even laughed. “Sorry, buddy. First rule of looting is first come, first serve.”
Trev glanced at Lewis in time to see his cousin’s eyes tighten slightly, although his tone remained mild. “No, it’s literally our property. As is the land you’re standing on.”
It was a bit surprising these men weren’t more worried about facing three armed people. Desperation, or were there more of them out there? Trev took a few steps to a better vantage point and searched the trees even harder.
The spokesman replied doubtfully. “Can you show us the title to this property? A bill of sale for this stove?”
Trev snorted in disbelief. Nobody carried those sorts of documents around with them, especially not after the world ended. He didn’t know what the guy was trying to prove. Still, if anyone could be expected to think ten steps ahead to produce what was needed on demand, it would be his cousin.
But Lewis just shook his head, also looking slightly disbelieving. “No.”
“Then possession is nine-tenths of the law.” The man dismissively turned back to the doorway. “My family needs this to survive the winter, and you lot don’t seem the murdering type. Nice talking to you, but we’ve got to get back to work.”
In spite of his feigned casualness the man jerked as much as his three companions at the sharp crack of Jane’s rifle. To be honest Trev did a bit of jumping himself. The redheaded woman had aimed for a tree well away from the intruders, but she definitely got their attention.
“I may not be the murdering type,” she said in the flat tone she often adopted for strangers, “but for thieves I’m willing to be the injuring type. That’s our property and we’re entitled to protect it.”
One of the spokesman’s companions said something to him, too quietly to be heard at this distance. The other two men were already backing away from the hideout, hands raised. Seeing it the spokesman’s shoulders slumped, defeated, and he joined the others a safe distance away. “We’ll tell the military about this.”