The Collapse CLXIII: Reprecussions

 08 September 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

Somewhat to my surprise, the Colonel and the Leftenant stopped by with Young Xerxes this afternoon as Pompeia Paulina and I were out gardening and harvesting. The last bit of the outer garden is starting to finish and the wheat – our wheat, unburned – is in its final cutting and drying.

(I say surprised. It a nine mile walk – not a morning stroll of course, but not completely impossible.)

After the initial round of greetings – it is always so pleasant to see them – I asked after the reason for their visit. After all, these days there are few visits without reasons.

The fire – The Great Fire – is already starting to have repercussions.

You may remember Little City, the largest city just over the hill from Kentucky City. It was the effective commercial capital of this entire area before The Collapse. You might also remember that both times we were there, they were a bit stand-offish at best – supportive in the way of material aid, but we never spoke to a single inhabitant that was not an actual volunteer for McAdams. There is no reason anyone knows that this is the case or should be the case, only that it was.

Apparently, that has continued to manifest itself.

The Colonel – really Kentucky City – was notified by the leadership of Little City that they were closing themselves off from everyone. The road down the mountain and to the southwest of the city could be used, but no admittance would be allowed. Anyone venturing in would be considered an intruder – and shot. The new “border” was the pass above Kentucky City, before it started to descend down the hill.

The Colonel and the Leftenant were here to both inform people and – frankly – to check in. Birch is smaller than Little City of course, but would we cast ourselves off as well?

Young Xerxes piped in at that point. He had talked to others, as many as he could, and there would be a vote.

The Colonel and the Leftenant were bound for the two towns beyond us to spread the word there as well and get a read and plead for unity in fact of what is rapidly promising to be a Long Winter and uncertain Spring.

After their departure – all too soon, given the company – Young Xerxes let us know the vote would likely be tomorrow. He had reached out to as many of his acquaintances as he could; likely he could count on an almost full house for the vote.

I say full house. If we hit 80 people at that meeting, that would virtually the entire adult population of the town along with some of the outlying farms and ranches.

Am I surprised by this? I do not know that I can say yes, Lucilius. You will remember I commented even at the time how distant the place seemed, even though in the first case we were there to fight for them. And they had near to them the remainder of the vacation housing development, a resource to be tapped. Perhaps it really was because of the fire – or perhaps it was because the fire simply gave a good excuse.

I find it both frightening and bemusing that we find ourselves looking at a vote for unity – perhaps, given the promise of a cold Winter and uncertain Spring, the last vote we will have.

I see nothing but bleakness no matter where I look.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca