Chapter One Hundred and Twenty - The Hungry Gap

The winter melt came suddenly and the frozen, white ground became a boggy mess of brown with only a fleck of green here and there where the hardest of weeds and grass had slept in snowy beds for the past few long months. It was not the sort of ground that could be immediately put to use, however, that fortunately was not a problem for the community who'd managed through ingenuity and hard work to lessen food worries over winter and spring.


With the milder temperatures, the third house's green room began to flourish with more vitality. Smaller greens that had been less robust in the cold winter and could seldom be harvested from suddenly seemed as if on growth hormones, spreading to fill all of the available space that they'd been allocated and seeking more. The hardier greens also grew larger, but that resulted in them being picked whole rather than gradually harvested as before, so that the space occupied could be used for spring sowings of long since missed fruits and vegetables. Of course there were always a few left to go to seed.


The plants tended by the others in the greenhouse and sunrooms of the first property also slowly regained renewed vigour; scattered carrot seed from the previous year had germinated in the greenhouse beds, perennial beans stirred and lifted their winding vines upwards. Chilli plants began to grow new foliage.


Nathan became as full of zest as his beloved plants, rushing to fill trays and other repurposed containers with seeds, but not forgetting to chide his favoured assistants as they moved to plant certain cabbages and squashes a bit too soon. And when that person wasn't protecting the wall, Nathan was naturally shadowed by his husband, contentedly.


The spring season the previous year had been challenging, the food monotonous, but this year was not so challenging; although Jimmy had threatened never to eat another mouthful of winter squash, it did not stop him complaining long after the last one had filled their bellies, saying he missed the taste. However, not everyone was experiencing such ease moving from one season to the next. The base were suffering somewhat due to the difficulty of the season.


This was an error in their planning; their handful of people who'd been farmers in the old era knew about the labelled 'hungry gap' as did a few of the hobby gardeners, but it had been decades since this period truly effected their lives and livelihood. After all, that was what supermarkets were for. Of course, a percentage of them were learned in preserving techniques, many of them had experienced courgette and tomato gluts in their gardens and allotments. So while they might have preserved enough of their own harvests for their own use or passed on these techniques to others, such as their supervisors, didn't mean they preserved enough for outside their homes nor did it mean that those informed had attempted to preserve much or pass on the message. After all, there had been no problem last winter and spring.


They'd become complacent, forgetting that the base had relied on stores snatched from open shelves of supermarkets, stores and people's homes. Just that the produce itself had a suggested date in which it was viable until. Whenever a tin or jar of something came close to its date, it would either be used in the canteens or sold to the general populace. Things such as dried pasta had been finished last spring, but that was fine (to the managers of the warehouse) as there had been flour to hand make noodles as well as grain from the fields harvested last autumn that could be made into flour. The managers reported weekly to the higher ups, the higher ups would take these reports and scan over them, thinking things will be fine after their own harvests.


They hadn't planted much grain; they'd not the space for it seeing that they grew all of their food under cover. They relied more on crops such as sweet potatoes and potatoes to fill bellies, most other things counted as nutrients, which were also supplemented by vitamin tablets. Any gluts of food were seldom preserved by their own, but sold off to the general populace to deal with instead, in order to promote independency and reduce the need for the canteen amongst civilians. They wanted to save a good portion of food for their own soldiers as possible, so that those soldiers could protect the base and everyone in it and reduce the current burdens on the canteen.


After the harvest, the warehouse was indeed refilled with root vegetables, squashes, cabbages, alliums and such that could be stored and eaten over winter, making the overall volume of stock seem healthy. The higher ups were happy; they had enough food for winter! But in part due the lack of direct communication between farmers and higher ups, the higher ups could only panic when they discovered they'd failed to think about spring! The speediest of crops, mainly the humble radish, would not be available for harvest for at least four weeks! What were they supposed to eat until then? Air?!


One of the suggestions was to send out the squads to hunt wild animals and to forage the few wild plants that could be eaten at this time of year. However, this was easier said than done. Animals, just as humans, had decreased a lot in population thanks to the illness and subsequent scourge of undead. Those that survived often did so changed, mutated or evolved. They were stronger, smarter and not rarely, more violent. If they were fortunate, they found one of the ordinary beasts, if not, they found that the battle might not necessarily go there way. So there was no sudden increase in meat available after the first venison came through the gates like the civilians had hoped.


One of the squads sent out did return quickly with a captured couple of rabbits; the female was pregnant and everyone knew how quickly these creatures could breed, but this pair, though welcome, would not solve their imminent crisis at that time.


After a week of watery soups with a few pulses and noodles, with eggs for the youngest children, most of the civilians began to complain. The soldiers were also not happy, but bit their tongues as they patrolled, hungry but still having to protect the walls. Those who'd preserved a bit of food, hid away their jars and tubs and kept quiet, worried that the food might be stolen from them. There was a lot of pressure on the squads and the higher ups, but they, in turn, couldn't help but get angry with the civilians. Was it really only their responsibility to provide food?! What of all the seedlings they'd sold cheaply in spring and summer that could have been raised in pots within households, not taking up too much space?! They'd kept the people well fed all this time, as well as protected from the numerous threats, did they owe these people anything?!


"So that's why we're here," the squad commander, Rhodes, sipped the hot tea with an almost reverent expression upon his face. Flavour!


Dexter sighed, feeling a bit torn by the man's situation. They'd struggled this time last year, hunger had made them all irritable, but they'd coped. Of course, there was less of them and they'd all relied heavily on each other. The base had spoiled the civilians too much, but it was understandable in a way. Food was more valuable that gold or diamonds had been in the previous era, but people had not changed. There would be those 'flush with riches' and those 'coveting those riches' and the latter would not necessarily go about obtaining their own wealth in a wholesome way and could potentially plunge the base into chaos. It was a fine line the army had been walking, but this situation also revealed that they'd possibly been walking in the wrong direction.


"It's not that I don't sympathise, but we aren't exactly a huge operation. There ain't really enough food here for thousands of people to eat over the course of a day, let alone a few weeks," Dexter informed him.  This was a slight underestimation, but Dexter wasn't about to admit to that.  Their freezer was still plenty full, it was of things that they wouldn't be able to taste next until late summer or autumn fresh and they'd expanded into another sunny room in the third property so they could increase the number of seedlings grown.  It was just that Dexter was unwilling to reduce their current stocks just in case something unexpected happened causing them to rely on them rather than fresh produce.


"I get that," the soldier responded, quickly. "However, I'm not going to lie. There are always idiots that think they can solve the crisis plundering others. Me and the squad have said where we stand on this, as have several of the higher ups; we'd stand on your side so long as we have the ability to."


He'd even punched some prat who spoke about taking over the smaller community and taking all the food for their own gang. That person wasn't a soldier, but a small hooligan running a squad that had survived plundering abandoned houses for stuff. Obviously, their route was quite short, there probably was very little left for them to plunder, if anything at all now. He'd told him he'd have him arrested if he instigated any troubles with other survivors, of course, that was if they returned to base alive. The people of this small community were by no means weak. However, what one small gang thought, others might also think. Rhodes had brought his squad here not only to try bartering, but to warn them that they still might experience troubles. Very few knew where this community was located, but it didn't mean others couldn't learn. Rhodes could only do so much, such as warn his men not to sell secrets less they find themselves booted from beneath his umbrella.


"It was Councillor Justine who suggested that if you could 'donate' a bit," Rhodes admitted looking thoroughly embarrassed about the cheeky request, "that the majority of the civilians and soldiers would be too grateful and appreciative, forcing those that would cause trouble to hesitate under peer pressure."  He did not mention that the latter might even include one or two of his superiors.  If everything went to plan, Councillor Justine would certainly use this act of 'charity' against them.


Autumn whispered into Dexter's ear as she brought over a fresh pot of tea.  The man suddenly grinned, nodding, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek as he did so.  He then returned his attentions back to the squad captain.  "There is a few things we can 'donate,'" Dexter finally offered.


Nathan's plants seemed to love the youth as much as he adored them, occasionally it was to a point that seemed ridiculous.  Vines and brambles came to his defence, flowers seemed to bloom more beautifully as he passed and their scents were more sweet.  Fruiting plants were so abundant that their produce weighed down their branches and stalks.  And certain root crops went a bit further beneath the ground.


The three sweet potatoes that they lifted onto the truck weighed a combine fifty pounds and the squashes combined were a good kilo.  Autumn had worried about dealing with them, worried that the flavour might not be as nice or flesh as tender even after cooking a while.  Not to be too 'cruel', they also gave the squad a few chard plants, spinach and half of the preserved passata that she'd made the year before.  If the cooks were clever, they should be able to produce a decent stew out of this food.


Justine's plan was excellent and did indeed quell the discordant voices in the base for a bit of time.  And by the time their hunger caused memory loss and renewed discontent, an outsider stepped up outside the base gates bringing with him new hope.

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