Fighting Rough

3

“You get enough to eat, Mom?” said James.

“Thanks, James, I’m fine,” said Georgia.

She was looking a lot better. Some color had returned to her face, and she’d started walking around the camp. It might still be a while, though, before she was out hunting again. And she was itching to do it. But the walks had quelled some of her frustration.

“You warm enough?”

“I’m fine, James. Don’t worry about me.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Now go do something useful with yourself.”

Georgia continued walking, unaided, along her small path that circled the camp. Neither the snow or the freezing temperatures were going to deter her.

James looked out at the snow-covered trees and wondered about Max and Mandy.

But, as Max would have said, there was no point in worrying about something he couldn’t change. The thing to do was keep going. And the meaning of that was always situationally-dependent.

In this moment, it meant defending and readying the camp.

John and Sadie were on watch. They were positioned at opposite ends of the camp, waiting and watching in the cold.

James had the brotherly instinct to go check on Sadie, but at the last moment, he thought better of it. After all, he knew she’d be fine. She was bundled up plenty, and more likely she’d just talk his ear off complaining about being bored and about being cold.

Most of the work that the camp needed had already been done over the last week. Together, they’d taken the tent from the pot farmers and brought it over to Jake and Rose’s van. With one person always on watch, the van and the tent together provided enough sleeping space for everyone. Not that either structure did much against the cold.

James had argued that they should just move the van now that they had gasoline. But Max had pointed out that the fields of marijuana weren’t something they wanted to live very close to. He’d said it be better if they could move farther away, but that it’d be too inconvenient. The fields, Max had said, could draw unwanted attention. It was, after all, a resource that some might potentially be after.

The fire was still out, so as not to draw more attention. There was enough food for now, and James knew he couldn’t go hunting anyway. Not with someone potentially being out there.

It bothered James to have no immediate project. Nothing to help with.

Max’s brother was inside the tent, fiddling with the radio that he’d brought. Now they had two radios. And no one to communicate with.

“What you doing?” said James.

“Oh, just trying to figure out how we can continue to power this thing.”

“The battery won’t last?”

John shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “In fact, the battery for the one I brought is already dead.”

“What about the one from Jake and Rose?”

“They’ve got it rigged up to a car battery,” said John. “It’s got more juice. But not a lot. I’m trying to figure out how to attach it to the car. You know anything about that sort of thing?”

James shook his head. “Not really,” he said.

“That’s the thing with people your age,” said John.

“What do you mean?”

“Before the EMP, everything was just a quick internet search away. You never had to know anything.”

“Same goes for you, too,” said James, feeling himself grow a little defensive. He didn’t yet know John very well. And while he seemed like a good guy, he hadn’t yet earned James’s respect the way Max had.

John laughed. “You’re right,” he said. “I mean, look, I don’t know how to do this either. I got so used to my smartphone, I bet I forgot most of what I ever learned. I guess we’re going to have to get used to it. I don’t think there’s any going back.”

“So you don’t think the US can restart again?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m as pessimistic as Max is, from the sound of it. But I’m getting there, I guess. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” said James. “From what I’ve seen… the way people are acting… it’d take something pretty… I don’t know… crazy to get everything back in order.”

John nodded. The conversation gradually dwindled down, as John went back to work fiddling with the bits of wiring he was hoping to use to charge the batteries for the radio.

James found himself outside again, staring at the grey sky. The snow was really coming down.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave camp, but he hated not having something useful to do.

The firewood was all ready. For when they wanted to make a fire, that is. The guns were as clean as they could. Everything was in order.

But what about the pot farmers camp? They’d taken the tent and some other food. But James was convinced that there must still be something there that could be useful to them. After all, those men hadn’t seemed like the most organized. Surely they would have been the types to leave valuables around in odd places.

James glanced to his left and then his right. For the moment, everyone was occupied.

James slipped away from camp, heading towards the old pot farm.

His shoes made prints in the snow as he walked swiftly, leaning in against the cold wind. The heavy snow soon made the camp invisible when he glanced back at it. Good, no one would notice that he was gone.