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Martin was the first one to arrive for the meeting at the new office building. He wanted a few moments of quiet before the inevitable storm. Over the past few days, he’d been getting reports of unrest from all quarters. The dwindling supplies and approach of flu season had everyone on edge. And there wasn’t anything he could do to quiet their fears. More food wasn’t going to miraculously appear, no matter how much they hoped for it. And until the flu got here, they wouldn’t know how bad it would be.
He had just stopped in the Watch office to ask Tall Joe to send people out to the farms. He hadn’t thought that there was much to guard this early in the year until one of the farmers pointedly reminded him about the seed stock. A sack of dried beans could sow a field or make many pots of soup. Logically, they all knew that sowing a field would give them even more in the future, but that was a hard call to make when you were hungry right now. It hadn’t gotten that dire, yet, but he needed to plan for it. Especially now that rumors of shortages were circulating the district.
General Dunham would be down from the Seed Depository this afternoon to go over rosters. Martin knew that as soon as Angus initiated rationing, they were going to need stronger security around the warehouse, shops and farms. After the Great Fire, Angus had set up a series of smaller warehouses to spread out the risk to their winter stores. Most of those were empty now, the food distributed months ago. As supplies had dwindled and the auxiliary depots had been shut down, people near them had started to panic. Angus and Nick had used the newspaper to keep people abreast of what supplies were available which had helped keep the peace so far. The next announcements were going to have to be very carefully worded.
The small conference room at the new community center felt strange. He had been so accustomed to the school building that moving into a set of offices had felt wrong. The old high school was just a school again. That should be something to celebrate, but he had reservations. Anyone who had a skill could set up a class. Everything from knitting with Old Agnes to skinning rabbits with The Hunters to building furniture with Bruno was going on. It was essential that skills be shared, but Martin hadn’t been able to monitor every class. He worried about what kind of information was being passed around.
Voices in the hallway warned him that Angus and Nick were on their way in. He looked around the sterile room missing the days when he could hear the kids running through the halls, and Tillie brought them tea and muffins for their meetings. After all he’d been through, it surprised him that he could feel nostalgic for anything post-Zero Year. He should celebrate that as well. Angus had made a true haven for them.
“Turnips last a long time,” Nick said as he entered the room.
“Do we have a nutritional breakdown on them?” Angus asked. “I’m sure they have starch, but what’s the protein content?”
“Does any of that matter if it’s all we’ve got?”
Martin waited for the other two to settle at the table before he spoke. “Tillie threatened us with dried cherry and barley stew. Is it down to turnips instead?”
Angus gave him a small smile. “We have a lot of turnips available. Creamery had been holding on to them for winter feed for the cows, but the pastures are in good shape, and they won’t need them now.”
“They make a good stew,” Martin offered.
“If you have meat,” Nick said sourly. “I’m worried that people will start eating their laying hens. The Hunters have sighted an elk herd, but they don’t want to take any until the does have calved. With the rumors of feral dogs, they might need the bucks to protect the calves.”
“I think those rumors are just that. None of the Rovers have reported in about feral dogs, wolves, or coyotes,” Martin said.
Angus tapped a finger on the table thoughtfully. “It’s hard to plan when we don’t know what people have. If someone has a full cupboard, should they be able to buy more?”
“Please don’t ask me to have my men start inspecting homes for food,” Martin said flatly. He could feel an argument coming on. Not everyone was as altruistic as Angus and Tillie.
“No,” Angus waved away his concerns. “We will never go there. If it gets that bad, we will have to open kitchens to hand out meals.”
Before Martin could speak his concerns, Nick beat him to it.
“Have you brought that up with Tillie?” Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “I know you haven’t because she would have been in my office in a heartbeat.”
A scream from the street interrupted them. Martin rushed to the window, but it faced in the wrong direction. Calls for help followed. Nick headed for the door, and Martin quickly joined him.
By the time they got outside, a crowd had gathered around someone down on the pavement. Martin pushed his way through the onlookers. The man on the ground was having some sort of seizure. Martin knelt, grabbing at his thrashing limbs. Nick came from the other side to do the same.
“Has anyone called the clinic?” Martin asked. He glanced around the circle of watching faces, finding only guilty expressions. More people came up to see the spectacle. Others were standing across the street watching with looks of horror on their faces. He knew they were wondering if this was the new disease.
Lily burst through the crowd, panting from a brisk run. “I told ‘em at the clinic. Dr. James is on his way.”
“Good work,” Martin said approvingly.
She grinned at him. “I took the first aid course. This looked like one of those times to Go Get Help.”
“That was a good call,” Martin agreed.
“Ew.” She danced a few steps back as the man began to foam at the mouth. His spasms were getting wilder tossing the spittle from his mouth toward the crowd.
James arrived a moment later with a pair of helpers who were carrying a stretcher. The crowd parted to let him through. “It’s not flu,” he said loudly, after a cursory examination.
Martin let out the breath he was holding. He stepped back letting James and his assistants take over. Several Watchmen came in to move people along. Martin wondered why it had taken them so long to respond. Clay gave him a friendly nod. “Where were you guys?” Martin asked softly.
“He’s the third,” Clay complained. “They all drank some kind of herb cocktail that made them crazy. The first one jumped off the firehouse roof. Second one scratched himself bloody. Now him.”
“Is this from Harlan’s moonshine?” Martin asked. He had a small bottle of Harlan’s brew at home. If there was some kind of contamination, they needed to get word out right away.
“No. They said they made it themselves from some secret recipe. We haven’t been able to figure out who’s passing it around.”
“This has happened before?”
“James said he had two kids come in to the clinic last week that were totally off their rockers.” Clay shook his head. “Idiots. Like there aren’t enough ways to die, they’ve got to invent new ones.”
“People will always find a way to get high. If they want it bad enough, they won’t care if it kills them.” Martin gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder as a dismissal. He looked around for Nick and found him on the sidewalk talking to Angus. “I need to look into this,” he told them.
“Yes,” Angus agreed. “Does James know what it is?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet.”
All three men watched as James led the stretcher bearers back down the street to the clinic. Even tied down, the man was still thrashing. “Think he’s going to have brain damage?” Martin asked.
“That isn’t in my bailiwick,” Angus said gruffly. “Nick’s come up with an excellent idea. We’re going to schedule a food swap. Anyone who wants to swap their extras for something different—”
“No,” Martin cut him off. “That would be a security nightmare. And how do you think you’re going to judge what’s worth what? Is a jar of jam worth a jar of bean soup? And what happens when a bunch of bullies show up and take whatever they want?”
“Oh.” Angus nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I see your point.”
“Anybody with extras isn’t going to let that information loose,” Martin said, hoping that would put an end to that harebrained scheme. “Can we meet later? I’d like to catch up with James.”
Angus waved him on. “I’ll put something on my calendar and let you know.”
Martin gave Nick a look as Angus wandered away. “Is he okay?”
“Stressed,” Nick said with a sigh. “Just like the rest of us.”
“Are we really down to turnip soup?” Martin asked jokingly.
“Not yet, but damn close.”
“Nothing from Seaview? Can’t we get a couple of their big fish in?”
“Sure. What are you going to pay for it with?” Nick said with a shrug. “Things have gotten complicated with all the traders. They’re getting pickier. It used to be that I could talk them into an uneven trade to get us past a rough spot. Now, they aren’t as accommodating.”
“How about some non-food items? Have we got any lumber or sheets, some hard goods to spare?”
Nick cocked his head in thought. “Now that’s not something I’ve tried. I wonder...”
Martin left Nick staring into space in thought to go down the street to the clinic. If there was some sort of toxic cocktail making the rounds, he needed to know everything about it as soon as possible. They hadn’t had a drug problem before, but it didn’t surprise him that one had started up.
The building had been some kind of urgent care clinic, and so had been perfect to be made over into a miniature hospital. It was one of the many buildings that they had rehabilitated and changed over to their own purposes. A chime sounded as he walked in the front door. The waiting room was under the supervision of an older woman sitting behind a high counter. Rows of chairs had been set up to accommodate a lot more people than were present. That made him wonder how busy they were on an average day.
“May I help you?”
“I need to speak with James.”
“He’s busy right now. If you’d just fill out this form...”
Martin was impressed. They had already advanced to paperwork. “I’m Martin, head of security services.”
“Oh, right.” The woman’s eyes got big. “You’re here about those fellows.” She pressed a buzzer to release a gate in the counter. “Come with me.” She led him into a warren of small rooms. At the far end of a narrow hallway, Martin heard familiar voices. “Here we are.” She directed him into a large space that looked like an operating room.
James was speaking with Ruth over a shrouded body. They both turned to him as he entered, looking harassed.
“Oh, it’s you,” Ruth said in relief. “Something has to be done about this.”
“Which this?” Martin asked.
“Another death,” James said softly. “The first was the jumper. We don’t have the facilities to say whether the drug would have killed him if he hadn’t jumped off the firehouse. The second one died not long after he arrived. He had convulsions like the third.”
“Is he dead, too?”
“Just now,” Ruth said as she peeled back the sheet.
The man from the street was quiet now, but he looked odd. “Why is his skin so red?”
“Something to do with the toxins he ingested,” James said. “We have taken blood from each of them and will check their stomach contents also.”
“Clay said you had some kids in last week with the same thing?” Martin asked.
“Not exactly the same,” Ruth snapped. “They didn’t die.”
“Did they say where they got the stuff?”
“Cooked it up themselves apparently.” James said with a shake of his head. “There are so many toxic herbs that can be found in almost any garden. I have to wonder if they just picked the wrong ones.”
Martin took out his notepad. “Who were they?”
“Two young men, mid-teens. Both named John, or so they said,” James said with a small shrug. “The drug made them hallucinate.”
“They were scared to death,” Ruth added. “It made them think they were about to transform into aliens or something. They weren’t very lucid.”
“Everybody is scared right now,” Martin said somberly. “Any word on the flu?”
“We haven’t had any cases yet,” James said.
“Please let me know as soon as you do.”
“You people need to sort yourselves out,” Ruth said. “Do we report this to you or Tall Joe or Angus or whoever? We can’t be running all over and then getting yelled at for not telling somebody.”
“Me first,” Martin said. “I’ll make sure that everyone who needs to know gets notified.”
“Thank you,” Ruth said. “I am used to a chain of command. It makes our job a lot easier.”
Looking at the dead body, Martin wondered if that was really true.