Cost of Survival
***
Dinner turned out to be warmed refried beans and a poor attempt at homemade tortillas. The second shift consisted of Charlie, Mom, me, and three other men who spoke like they suspected “Big Brother” still monitored everyday things. The government could have taken things back and control reigned everywhere but in the crap camp.
We sat at a long, rough wood picnic table with attached benches like those at a public park. I sat across from Mom and picked up the simple salt shaker. Beneath the cardboard cylinder, a black brand claimed the table as Farragut State Park Property. Which guy or guys had stolen the table? How many other things had been taken before the fallout?
Someone who stole when things were safe had the potential for so much worse with danger shoved in their face.
The grass had been tamped down in the area by a lot of feet. Camp population hadn’t been very evident when we arrived. Two women and a couple men was all, if I remembered correctly.
A man to our left grunted to the guy across from him. “This isn’t something that could’ve been prevented.”
My ears perked up. I rolled the tortilla slowly, careful to take a bite and chew soft enough I could hear but not so slow I looked stupid.
“You don’t think with a little less arrogance and a lot more service, we could have avoided being bombed?” The second man put his burrito down and stared at the man across from him.
The other guy shrugged, avoiding eye contact in a more pacifist stand. “I think we could’ve protected ourselves better, if the president didn’t position all our troops in other countries and the National Guard on the borders. Fat lot of good the soldiers did anyone when illegals attacked from both sides. You can’t fight a dual-sided ambush.” He bit into his tortilla wrap, careful to keep eyes focused on his dinner.
Thumping the table, Man Number Two spluttered. “We should be helping others. Everyone was destroying each other. We had to help those lower countries.”
Slowly, the first man stopped chewing and swallowed. He met the other man’s stare. His face flushed while his eyes moistened. “They weren’t destroyed and now we are.” He shoved the rest of his burrito in his mouth and left the table.
The second man’s shoulders slumped, but he resumed eating.
Mom leaned over, reaching for the ketchup bottle. “You okay, Tom?”
Heaving a sigh, Tom stole a peek at Mom. “Thanks, Megan. He’s new, but his ideas are strong and he’s a good worker.” Tom flitted his gaze around the immediate encampment.
Charlie and the other men stood at the drink station and didn’t spare us a second’s worth of attention. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Watch your back. Things aren’t like we planned, in case you haven’t noticed yet.” He held his gaze trained on the men. “They say one thing but have two more planned behind the door. These guys are evil.”
I bit into my burrito again, absorbing the tension crackling on the air around me.
Mom sipped her water and muttered under the cup brim. “What else is going on? Have you heard anything?”
Tom shook his head, but watched his plate. “Mostly what we expected, except Russia didn’t bomb us. They’re out. Apparently, England took them. China and most of Asia is gone. Australia’s out. The only three countries besides the US left – if the US is left – are rumored to be UK, Poland, and Germany, if you can believe that.”
Three. Such a small number considering a week ago the whole first world had been intact. Third-world countries had disappeared under the Protective Wars last summer.
Rolling a second burrito, Tom leaned in for a bite. His lips moved the edge of the flour wrap with his words. “I’m not sure what’s going on here. Between us, you might be smart to find a way to move on.”
I couldn’t keep the small smile from my lips as I bit into the soft dinner. At least someone else – no, at least an adult had the same thoughts as me. Now Mom would have to see me as someone to take seriously. No matter what she wanted others to believe.
Mom opened her mouth to counter but Tom cleared his throat and took another bite, looking down.
My gaze hadn’t risen above the end of my burrito, but I jumped anyway when Charlie took the seat beside Mom and draped his arm across her shoulders. “How’re you girls settling in? Everything going okay?” He smirked at the other men moving in around us. “Told you guys. She’s not much to look at, but she’s motivated.”
Wincing, I smiled and raised my plastic cup. “Are other kids here?” Internally I cringed at the sickly sweet voice I used, the tone bouncing back at me from the bottom of my cup. My mom was gorgeous. The fact that her looks had been brutalized didn’t take away from her beauty.
Suddenly somber, Charlie shook his head. “No, sweetheart. The two families with children didn’t reach camp in time.”
Mom glanced sharply at Charlie’s face. “I thought the deadline was tomorrow.”
He shrugged, leaning back to stretch his legs. “No. Jeanine went back to get the last of our intel from the meetup place when you guys arrived. We’re not letting anyone else in. We need our rations.” He brazenly winked at me with my mom’s face focused downward. “Plus, there are marauders looting and killing already as far north as Rathdrum. We can’t take the chance of letting them slip through our defenses. We’re taking today and tomorrow to seal up any possible weak spots in the perimeter.”
She finished her burrito, her eyes tight.
The creepy sensation around him intensified. How could she handle his arm around her? No other kids in camp? Who was I supposed to talk to?