He glanced back towards the shelter, feeling his jaw tighten in spite of his efforts. “Word of advice, though. Keep it a secret from everyone, and when you do bring it down bury it where Ferris can’t find it and don’t take it out until you really need it. He’s taking the big stuff now and holding to his “regulation” about 2 weeks of food storage, but I’ve got a feeling in the future he’ll start robbing you guys of anything he can lay his hands on.”
“Right,” Matt said somewhat dazedly. Then he blinked and focused on Trev’s face. “Hold on a second, “you guys”? You’re talking like you’re leaving.”
Trev nodded and jerked his head towards the mountains to the west. “We are. Up to our old summer hideout.”
“Over the winter?” his friend demanded incredulously. “That’s crazy! You’ll be socked in under 10 feet of snow for nearly nine months!”
He smiled a slightly crooked smile. “And still somehow more hospitable than living under Ferris’s size 9 boot.”
Matt shook his head almost frantically. “Don’t go. You can stay with us in our house. You’ll be perfectly welcome.”
“Thanks, but your place is going to be crowded enough. Anyway me and Lewis are kind of looking forward to getting away from people.” He gripped his friend’s shoulder for a moment. “Don’t worry about us, we’ll find a way to survive. You and your family do the same.”
Matt reluctantly nodded and offered his hand, then on impulse pulled Trev into a crushing hug. “Thanks. For April and her family, for beating me around my hard head until I finally saw reason about coming home, and for all your help and advice. For everything.”
Trev hugged him back, a bit embarrassed to realize tears were trying to sneak free. “Anytime, man. Stay safe.”
They separated, a bit awkwardly, and after a few final farewells Trev turned and started back for the woodpile. He’d been looking forward to his first good night’s sleep in a long time in his own bed inside the shelter, but now it looked as if he might be staying up late tonight.
He was beyond exhausted, his body screaming for rest after traveling so far almost nonstop all this time, miles and miles every day. But it looked like his journey was far from over.
Winter up in Manti-La Sal National Forest. His journey was just beginning.
Epilogue
Returns
Ferris got what seemed like half the town out to empty their shelter. From the sounds of it the people of Aspen Hill were celebrating as they made a human chain complete with carts, small wagons, and even a larger horse-drawn wagon to take everything back to the storehouse. From their behavior it was clear they considered Trev’s and Lewis’s devastating misfortune to be a bounty as great as the supply truck FETF had brought.
It was hard to listen to that from behind the woodpile without secretly thinking some very resentful thoughts about their neighbors.
The only saving grace of the town celebration was that by nightfall the shelter was completely empty of anything useful, even the solar panels stripped off and taken back to be installed where they could be put to better use. That meant nobody was around to witness as Trev and his cousin uncovered the cache enough to get at what they planned to take with them.
Between the two wagons they decided they could carry around 600lbs of food, mostly canned but with a base of 6 buckets, plus all their other necessities piled on top. That was more than 6 months of food for two people, which should be enough for them to eat fairly well all winter, even up at their hideout where winter lasted longer, provided they could do even a little hunting and foraging to supplement their diet.
Along with the food, winter gear, and camping supplies they also brought a good chunk of ammunition for the weapons they were going to bring. For Trev that constituted all the ammo for his .223, while Lewis left behind his shotgun and .22 rifle and all the ammo for them because of weight concerns, taking only a quarter of his store of ammo for his HK G3 and 1911, which meant still had more for each gun than Trev had total, and the guns themselves.
Altogether it was around 600lbs of food, 200lbs for the guns, ammo, and accessories, and 100lbs for their winter gear and camping equipment. Added roughly 75lbs for the weight of the wagons themselves and 25lbs for water and it came to around 1000lbs, split 600 on Lewis’s sturdier wagon and 400 on Trev’s.
There was some uncertainty about whether Trev’s wagon could handle that much weight on bad roads, but they wanted to keep the distribution of weight as even as humanly possible. That was because almost as big a concern as the wagons was whether the two cousins pulling them could manage that much over long periods of time, especially uphill. They would definitely be going much, much slower.
The last thing they did to get the wagons ready for travel was lash everything down tightly with rope, then throw tarps over everything and tie those down as well. Now the wagons could even tip right over without spilling anything or damaging precious equipment and could be easily righted, which would save time later.
Although Lewis’s wagon had the pushbar he opted to remove it and go with the belt harness, while Trev wrapped his heavy winter coat around his waist and tucked it up into even more padding so he could fit his wagon’s rope over it in an improvised belt harness of his own. They’d have to take turns hauling the lighter and heavier wagon, and going uphill they’d probably have to pair up to haul the wagons one at a time on the steeper stretches, especially Lewis’s, but it would be worth it to have all those supplies.
As long as they didn’t get robbed again. But as Trev slung his Mini-14 where it could be easily brought to bear and he watched his cousin practice drawing and holstering his .45 in its underarm holster, he was resolved that now that they were down to nearly the last of their vital possessions any bandit would have this stuff over his cold, dead body.
But preferably theirs.
Lewis had night vision goggles, a treasure among all the other things he’d prepared and thankfully one Ferris had overlooked, and so he took the lead with them while Trev followed behind. In spite of the weight their wagons rolled smoothly even over dirt road, as long as they avoided any rocks larger than a pebble, but from feeling the resistance of pulling that weight at even a slow, measured pace on flat ground Trev had a feeling the trip up the mountain was going to be brutal the moment they started going up even a slight slope.
Their pace would probably make even the speed he and Matt and the Lynns had managed on the way back to Aspen Hill seem blazingly fast in comparison, but at least they’d be strong as mules by the end of the trip.
The dirt back roads, most of them barely ATV trails, were silent and deserted as they followed them in the direction of Aspen Hill Canyon and the road leading up it. They did their best to be silent, too, ears pricked for the sound of movement or voices around them and eyes straining for any telltale lights. But it looked as if nobody but them was interested in traveling at night, and aside from a few times when they had to get their wagons unsnagged from protruding rocks they encountered no difficulty.
After they’d gone about half a mile Lewis glanced back at him, the silhouette of his head oddly distorted by the goggles. “You know I can see you frowning. What’s up?”
“I’m still having trouble getting over what Mandy did,” Trev admitted. “I can’t believe anyone would act like her.”
He couldn’t see his cousin’s expression, but when he spoke he sounded sympathetic. “If it makes you feel better I can pretty much guarantee you that even after everything she’s done to get ahead and the trouble she’s caused you, you’re still better equipped to survive than she is.”