Fuel (Best Laid Plans Book 1) (37 page)

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.”

“So? She's got Ferris to bail her out.”

Lewis stared thoughtfully back at the town. “For as long as it suits him. I've got a feeling those two are birds of a feather. Either way all Mandy has are her lies and manipulation, and once those stop working for her she'll be up to her neck in it.”

“I'm not sure I'll be any better off,” Trev muttered. “You've spent all your time learning what you needed to know to survive, but more and more I feel like I was just playing around with getting prepared and now it's too late. At best I got the bare minimum supplies and equipment to survive without ever learning the skills.”

Lewis clapped him on the shoulder. “That's the nice thing about knowledge, you can pass it on to other people. I'll teach you what I know and together we'll figure out the rest. But you shouldn't be so quick to pile on yourself . . . you're not as hopeless as you think.”

Trev felt a little better after that, which made slogging through the darkness blindly following his cousin a bit more bearable. And for the first time since learning about Mandy and then losing all their stuff to FETF he even felt cautiously optimistic about the future.

At least until they reached the canyon road and had followed it a few hundred yards, when they rounded a switchback and saw the glow of a campfire in a clearing between the trees off the road ahead.

Lewis immediately pulled his wagon out of sight to the side of the road and motioned for Trev to follow him. Once there he motioned again for Trev to stay with their stuff and started forward alone, rifle held ready across his chest as he crept ahead with his night vision goggles. Just before Lewis passed out of sight around the bend Trev saw a slight glint atop his cousin's head and realized Lewis must have taken the goggles off so he wouldn't be blinded by the light of the fire.

After a few minutes his cousin returned, leaning close to whisper. “Three men, pretty roughly dressed. One's got a machete and another a baseball bat. Couldn't tell if the third was armed. I waited and looked around carefully but I didn't see or hear anyone else.”

“Think they're Razor's thugs?” Trev whispered back.

“Probably.” His cousin hesitated. “What do you think?”

“I think they're a problem to anyone they meet, and we're better armed and have the element of surprise,” Trev replied. “Besides, if we can't find a way past them we'll have to take the Highway 31 route, and we'll probably run into people trying to rob us a dozen times before we reach the hideout.”

Lewis didn't sound happy when he finally replied. “I guess you're right, it's now or never. Come on.” He started forward and Trev followed, leaving their wagons behind. Choosing his foot placement carefully in the dark was a bit unnerving for him, knowing the slightest misstep could give away his presence, but they'd only gone about ten feet before his cousin paused. “Hey, stay a bit behind and try to keep to cover. I've got the body armor so I'll go ahead and do the talking.”

Trev didn't like that, but his cousin had a point so he nodded. They started forward again, moving slower and slower the closer they got to the campfire and trying to keep to the edge of the road where the scrub oak and grasses as well as a few trees gave them some cover.

Before too long they got close enough to hear the three men talking. Or at least the man with the machete talking, constant complaining from the sounds of it, while the others did their best to ignore him. “This is a waste of time,” he growled, swinging the heavy blade against the log he was sitting on. “Nobody's coming this way even during the day. We're freezing out here when I could be back in camp in my nice warm blankets with one of Razor's nice warm girls for the cost of a bag of potato chips.”

“So go complain to Razor,” the apparently unarmed companion snapped. “He's always looking for someone to cut. Otherwise shut up. We're supposed to be watching for people and I can't hear a thing over the sound of your constant pissing and moaning.”

Trev stiffened and made his way next to Lewis, leaning in to whisper right in his ear. “That third guy who just spoke. He was one of the ones who robbed us with Razor this morning. He's got a large caliber pistol. Also that's my backpack.” He pointed at the pack leaning against the log the gunman's buddy was haphazardly swinging his machete at.

Lewis nodded. “We'll shoot him first if things go sideways. Come on, their talking is giving us a good opening to get close and they're all backlit by the fire.”

Trev nodded back and followed behind as Lewis increased his pace slightly, raising his gun to a firing position to be ready in case they were discovered. Trev followed suit, doing his best to focus his wavering sights on the gunman as he felt his way along the road with slow, careful steps.

In the end they weren't discovered, and it was Lewis himself who revealed them when they were within spitting distance of the camp. “Everybody on your knees and hands in the air!” he shouted so loudly that Trev jumped nearly a foot.

If he was surprised then the thugs around the fire soiled themselves. They exploded into motion, cursing and scattering, but before any of them had more than started to move Lewis fired a shot. All three men froze.

“You, the big guy near the backpack. I know you have a gun, so take it out very slowly and toss it over. If your finger gets within an inch of the trigger my next shot hits you dead center in the chest.”

“Who're you?” the man growled, carefully pulling a big handgun out from where it had been tucked at the small of his back. It wasn't a 1911, but from the size of the bore Trev thought it was a .45 of some sort. The thug carefully tossed it over, and it thumped lightly into the grass at the roadside.

“Grab that,” his cousin told him, stepping aside to keep his line of fire. Trev nodded and slung his rifle, hurrying over to pick up the pistol then backing away again as he tucked it into his belt and brought his rifle back up into firing position.

“I said who are you?” the man demanded. “Do you have any idea who you're messing with? You don't want to cross Razor.”

“The backpack next,” Lewis answered calmly. “And while you're at it your two buddies can toss their weapons over. Nice and slowly.”

After a somewhat resentful hesitation the bandits complied. Trev quickly checked his backpack and saw to his relief that although his food was gone his clothes, tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, water purifier were still in there. And aside from his ammo being missing a lot of the stuff he'd picked up from where he'd deposited it a mile past his car along Highway 6 were also inside, along with a lot of the firestarting and other sundries in the pockets. He also saw a skinning knife even though he'd lost his at the roadblock, and guessed it must be the thug's. He stuffed the machete and bat into the pack and slung it over his shoulders, then retrieved his rifle and backed away again.

“All right,” Lewis said, sounding satisfied. “Now here comes the awkward part.” He fumbled in the pouch at his waist and pulled out an unopened package of zip ties, tossing it to the one who'd had the gun. “Tie up your friends.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” the man growled.

“Would you rather I shoot you?” Lewis took a step forward, raising his aim from the man's chest to his head. “And do a good job. I'm watching.”

The thug grudgingly complied, cursing the entire time, and under Lewis's direction the other two men lay down on their stomachs and had their hands zip-tied behind their backs, then their ankles. Once the other two men were secured Lewis had the thug also lay down on his stomach with his hands behind his head, and with his cousin covering him Trev hurried over to tie him up. It took a bit longer than he would've liked, fumbling to get the end of the zip tie through the hole, but he finally got the large man's wrists and ankles bound.

After he finished that he checked the other two men's bonds and added an extra tie around each of their wrists and ankles, just to be safe. Lewis then tossed him some packages of foam shooting earplugs and told him to plug their ears and turn them facing away from the road. He also had Trev pull their coats up over their faces.