Chapter One Hundred and Twelve - A ‘Better’ Life Often Came at a Price

Over the tables placed in the large living room, platters of food were pouring warm, mouthwatering aromas into the stuffy air of the overcrowded space, causing many to repeatedly swallow their saliva.

Such a feast to the senses began its origins the day before when the army squad known on base as the forth caused confusion within the crowds when they wanted to hire someone to cook a whole deer for them to savour having had nearly no access to any meat in well over a year. The people wanted them to sell the deer instead, but in truth, the one buck would definitely not meet the demand and the squad worked hard everyday for the base and this one thing they selfishly wished to reward themselves with. No one was in the wrong, but many were sent away disgruntled, while the squad still had no chef to aid them.

Until someone offered to help.

Dexter glanced over at his Autumn as she placed a colourful array of vegetables in amongst the three plentiful meat dishes; a venison meatloaf mixed with pork meat and wrapped in bacon and served with a blackberry sauce, slow baked deer ribs glistening with a sticky sauce, huge pots of venison stew with carrots, onions and swede. She was pissed at him yesterday, that he'd volunteered her hand and kitchen to the squad without asking her opinion, expecting her to turn that deer into a feast that could satisfy more than forty people and most of them were men with large appetites. He suspected that he would have to coax her more later, never thinking once that he was forgiven just because her eyes now glittered with a little pride and satisfaction over the reactions to her cooking. He admitted, he'd likely been too impulsive, but if it wasn't that the squad were good acquaintances of theirs, he never would have suggested Autumn's kitchen at all.

Still, he shook his wrist having been rightly subjected to peeling a whole ton of vegetables, he'd paid some dues right?

Her expression, with the smile dropped from her eyes as her gaze met with his own informed him that he'd definitely not paid enough yet. He sighed inwardly as he watched her wander out of the room towards the kitchen. She'd made some 'spaghetti and meatballs' for the younger children, using spaghetti squash, venison meatballs and tomato sauce she'd made a few weeks ago and stored.

"It's like thanksgiving or something," one of the soldier's murmured to his closest comrade.

"Shit and I thought we were just expecting barbecue!"

"Well, Er..." their commanding officer snapped out of his awed trance and coughed to hide his embarrassment. "This is thanks to our friends over in this base and thanks to all of you, men, for your hard work this past year and a half. Our lives can't go back to what they were, we know this, but it doesn't meant there will never be anything good to look forward to. Like this meal. So enjoy." A slender hand fell upon the shoulder of the red faced man.

"Nice speech, Commander Rhodes," Justine smiled, her plate having been filled with a sample of many of the dishes on offer while the man rambled on. She'd invited herself to this small feast of Rhodes' squad, not only to chance a taste of the venison meat before others, but also to satisfy her curiosity about this small base that infrequently had had dealings with her own.

"Oi, oi!" He clicked his tongue, giving her an obvious look of disdain, but she simply laughed in his face and darted out of the room, shielding her pilfered food. She did enjoy teasing that man.

As soldiers and the people from this 'village' base quickly followed her lead, the woman glanced towards the rear room where the kitchen was located and made her way towards it. She had to admit, this large place was decorated beautifully before the end, quite tasteful and clearly out of respect for its previous owners, these people had kept it well maintained. Cute, chubby cheeked children sat about a table, not fussing once over the meal in front of them, but tucking into it without reserve. They were joined by an older man, who was feeding a drooling baby with some purée and the woman chef, who was placing some of things from the served dishes into several of large lunchboxes.

"My compliments to the chef," she praised the other woman, startling her slightly, before receiving a small smile in return. "May I join you?"

"There's a free seat," the older man told her, his voice raspy in tone. It reminded her nostalgically of her old grandfather, the man had been a chain smoker before he died when she was fifteen. He'd been an opinionated bastard and shamefully a bit bigoted at times, being old fashioned in his ways, but she, his only granddaughter had been his one soft spot and spoiled by him.

She sat down at the table and began to savour what she had only briefly tasted when stealing bits from the table. She hadn't gone overboard, but everything had just looked so tasty! She'd assuaged some of her guilt by not touching the ribs, just claiming a half a slice of that thick, juicy meatloaf and a small bowl of the savoury stew. The roasted root vegetables and the Mediterranean style traybake were seasoned well to highlight their taste, the humble broccoli steamed so that it still had bite, the cabbage was stir fried with cauliflower rice and chilli giving some heat and there was a creamy mayonnaise to dress things with. Everything was just too good! Before she knew it, she'd devoured her plate clean.

With a sigh, she followed the good behaviour of the two young girls and placed her plate upon the side.  Behind her, the man who'd been feeding the baby followed suit.  "Interesting set up you have here," she mentioned, in an attempt to make conversation.

Actually, she really had been filled with curiosity.  These people lived in a way that didn't make sense in this rotten era; not fearing death.  Her analysis came from many factors; the fact that they were surrounded by an abundance of potentially deadly greenery as well as saw no reason not to grow food outside, the fact that they were not high in numbers, not fearing that their walls might be overwhelmed by the monsters lurking beyond them as they hadn't the forces to fend them off, the fact that they didn't ration water as proven by their overall cleanliness and painless expressions as they handed out a cup of the precious liquid to everyone here to have with that meal.  Then there was that meal...

Her mouth watered again.

In the army base, they focused on high yield crops that fit in small spaces such as corn and potatoes and swiftly growing vegetables like radishes, lettuces and spinach.  Things like fruit were a luxury, even those 'risky' ones grown on wild brambles and trees from the outside and certainly wouldn't be boiled down into a sauce.  She hadn't tasted cauliflower nor broccoli in over a year.  These things took up too much space and took a fair amount of time to grow. 

With limited ingredients and seasoning, naturally the taste of the food was lacking.  People mainly ate in the canteens to fill their stomachs now and where they could spent points on 'treats' such as a handful of wild fruit, chestnuts and a tiny bowl of noodles to satisfy their tastebuds.  Even if some people tried to bring back some standards, most were too busy trying to just live.  But was it really living?

"I guess you could say that," the man scratched at the rough beard lining his jaw.  That was another thing.  How was it that not many of the men had beards and even then, they were neat and clean.  Where did they get the razors from?  Her last one was so blunt now that using it would only result in lacerations along her legs.

As if to mock her, she heard voices in the hallway.

"Hey Shaun, I forgot to ask.  Have you had a chance to fix the blades on my razor yet?"

"Ah, sorry, Patrick.  I haven't.  I'm still trying to replace the crossbow bolts used that time!  I don't even know if I have enough spare metal!  But if you can wait a few more days..."

"No worries!  I'll just nag Tyler for a new one from the supplies!"

Justine's expression soured.  Perhaps he noticed it, because the older man chuckled as he rinsed their plates.  "I've not been to the army base so I can't say for sure... but you could only say that your place is like a town, while ours is more a tiny village.  Sure ours seems idyllic; we've got less people so there's less demands and resources don't need to be spread so far, but we also can't stop working to keep what we've got for even a minute.  Even the little ones have to work."  He nodded as he indicated the youngest girl, who'd picked up a small watering can and rushed over to a teenaged boy close by.  That boy touched the side of the watering can until water nearly sloshed over the edge of it.  Beads of sweat appeared upon his temple, but the young pair shared smiles before separating.

"Well, we'll rest a bit more midwinter," the man mused after a moment, before shaking his head.  "But not by much."

Justine understood what he was trying to get at, though.  This place had to have less than fifty occupants, while the base was currently more than a few thousand.  The people who wanted to work hard, did, but others only worked hard enough to get by.  She was in a good position, being on the council so while she did many tasks and oversaw many administrative matters and went to bed tired most nights, she was never exhausted and managed to find an afternoon off at least once a week to rejuvenate her mind.  This 'village' really had no choice but to work all hours of the day growing food, maintaining their homes and protecting their space as well as strengthening themselves so they could face the growing number of dangerous entities outside the walls.  Spare time must be something close to being elusive for them and constantly being on guard a must less they be overrun.

So while she did envy them the small things, she knew that she would not be able to live like them.  However, they also continued to help her open her eyes with interest.  She recalled that they had someone shaping metal into crossbow bolts, perhaps that woman could also help her fix her razor on the side...