A Creature of War, Book 4, CH15 (Patreon)

“The situation isn’t good.” Malcolm indicated the shelves. El walked in front of all the aisles. The shelves were still full of cans and bottles, but the cardboard boxes on the floor looked to be mostly empty.
This had been a grocery store in the mall. The sign was still up over the large entrance, and it had been used to store the food. Anything perishable had been dried and preserved. The historians had known about those and they had probably saved most of the food that way, but that had still been eaten first.
“I don’t think we have enough to last the winter,” Walter continued, “And it’s only going to get worse as more people are brought in.”
“There isn’t too many more coming,” Vee said, “I can sense close to five hundred in various enclaves, but I doubt many will be alive by the time the men sent to retrieve them have cleared a path. I found out about them almost too late to do anything. A couple of weeks at most and there wouldn’t have been anyone left alive to rescue.”
“Any new arrival will simply add strain on our precarious situation.”
“Are you saying I should let them die?”
“No, of course not. I’m just informing you of the real situation we are in.”
“Isn’t there any other grocery stores we can empty?” El asked.
Malcolm shook his head. “After that last winter, Artell spent the summer emptying any grocery stores his people could reach.” He indicated the boxes on the floor. “That’s what those were. There used to be a lot more of them. I think they also cleared every surrounding city. I arrived in the late summer, so I wasn’t very aware of that part.”
“We’ll send people out to hunt,” Vee said.
“I hope there are animals left, otherwise we’re going to have to depend on the greenhouse for our survival.”
“What greenhouse?”
“The one on the roof.” Malcolm looked confused. “Didn’t Fred include it in his…” understanding dawned on him. “No, of course he didn’t. If you didn’t know about it, it meant more food for him. Come on.”
They El and Vee followed him to a stairwell, and up. IGJ and a human walked a few steps behind, a police escort DHC had insisted follow them. The temperature dropped as they walked up, but nowhere near as much as El thought it should. When the door leading outside was opened, heat, instead of cold, flowed in.
El had to cover his eyes while they adjusted to the bright light.
“They have to shovel the snow away to ensure as much light as possible gets in.” Malcolm indicated the transparent walls and ceiling. “They need to make sure the roof is clear of snow too. Most of the heat comes from the fire, but on a sunny day like today, it eventually gets warm enough in here we can do without.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” El said.
“I designed it. My dad ran an industrial farm, but he had a love of botany, and researched plant breeding. I’m from the north of Virginia, so winters get cold enough he had to research greenhouses. I helped him build a few of them over the years. I don’t have any interest in growing plants, but I still knew how to build a greenhouse. I mentioned it to Artell when I met him. Getting the glass was the hardest thing to get. Poly-aluminum doesn’t cut easily without power tools.”
Malcolm led them through the rows of boxes, each with green stems and leaves of varying size growing in them. As far as El could tell, they were all the same plant.
“Hey Mal.” One of the human men waved. He wore shorts and nothing else. “What brings you—” The man fell silent, looking at Vee.
“I’m giving the Govern—”
“Don’t call me that,” Vee growled. “I keep telling everyone not to call me that.”
Malcolm turned to face the bull. “And we’ve explained that it’s the title of the person who is in charge here. Artell established it and people are used to it. People want stability and using the title tells them that things are going on as they were before.”
“They aren’t.”
“I know that, but they need to think it is, otherwise you’re going to deal with a lot more unrest than just the people unhappy that you took over.”
Vee grumbled, but didn’t say anything.
“Where’s Fred?” the man asked.
“He isn’t in charge of the food anymore,” Malcolm replied. “This is Sebastian McGregor, the Gardner.”
“So who’s taking his place? You?” the man asked Malcolm, ignoring that he’d been introduced. His hands, all the way past his elbows were covered in soil.
“I haven’t decided,” Vee said. He looked around. “Is there enough food here to feed everyone?”
“Oh yes,” Sebastian nodded eagerly, “You can be sure of that. We have plenty of—”
“No,” Malcolm interrupted. “Not by itself.”
The man looked lost now that what had been his script had been cut off.
“He wants the truth, Seb, not the stories Fred coached you to tell. That’s why Fred isn’t in charge anymore.”
“Ah,” While the human had lost some of his confidence, El could tell there was also relief there. “Unfortunately, there isn’t enough here to meet everyone’s minimum requirements. I was a nutritionist, gardening was just a hobby, before all this. At this size, this can only serve to supplement another food source.”
“Please explain,” Vee said.
“We only had a fixed amount of time to set this greenhouse up.” Sebastien dug his finger in the dirt of a box. “This stuff is only carried by specialty stores. All you see here came from the one store I knew about. Along with the nutrients. Fortunately for us, this spoil mix keeps indefinitely, so when the winter ends we can go looking for more or it and expand.”
“Why not do that now?” El asked. He felt for the composition of the soil, and then spread is sense as far as he could, but nothing registered.
“We don’t know where those stores are,” Malcolm said.
“I should be able to find them,” El replied. “My range isn’t what it was before, but if I explore the city, I should be able to feel this type of soil at some point.”
“Alright, but We can’t make another greenhouse. The adhesive that holds the glass in place won’t work in this kind of cold.”
“How about maximizing the space in this one?” Vee asked. “Make shelves so we can double the available space?”
The two human looked at one another.
“Greenhouses are more your area than mine,” Sebastian said.
“My dad used lights, the greenhouse itself was for the heat. I have no idea what plants need.”
Sebastien thought it over. “Well, we can’t stack them. The top shelf would block the light needed for the bottom one.” He looked around. “Maybe if we’d thought about it when we set everything up we could have narrowed the aisles, that might give is another row, but now that they’re filled with soil the planters are too heavy to move.”
Malcolm tried to lift one, to no avail. He crouched and studied the bottom of the box. “If we can raise it off the ground, I can probably manage a way to move it. We’re using cylinders as rollers to move heavy stuff around.”
Vee grabbed a corner and carefully raised the box before letting it down. “How many Support Class are here?”
Sebastian’s jaw was open as he stared at what Vee had done. Malcolm regained use of his mouth first. “I don’t know what that is.”
Vee looked to IGJ, who shook his head. “I don’t know that we did a census of who’s what. I’ll tell DHC as soon as we’re done here.”
“Go now,” El said. “We’re safe enough.”
“Sir, DHC is the one in charge of the police.”
“And I’m in charge of him. If something happens, he can scream at me.”
She hesitated, then the ostrich ran off.
“That still doesn’t give us the soil.”
“How exact does the mixture have to be?” El asked.
“I don’t know,” Sebastian replied. “I bought the soil and added the needed nutrients. Why?”
“There’s a patch of dirt not far from here with a composition close to this.”
“Do you mean Devon Park?”
El shrugged, sensing the soil there, trying to determine if there was anything that would be harmful, but those would be organic components.
“We’re not from around here,” Vee offered
“Ah, well, Plenty of plants grow there, so I don’t see that it would cause much problem. And I have plenty of nutrients left over so if I need to amend the soil I’ll be able to.”
“El, are you sure you can get them the soil? It’s going to be frozen. You said earth wasn’t very responsive.”
“I’ll make it happen,” El said, even if he couldn’t get the soil to move at this distance. He’d go at it with a pick, but he would start pulling his weight again.
“That’s all good,” Malcolm said, “but you can’t move all these boxes. You have more important things to do.”
“Most Support Class Anthros are strong. In a population the size you have here, there should be enough to help move them. You’re just ensuring there are more planters for El to fill and Sebastian to plant in.”
They left Sebastian to his work. When they reached the dining room, men and women were waiting for Vee and Malcolm. El let them get back to running things, and he continued to the basement.
He walked among the humans. Most of the workers were humans, the Anthros preferring guard duties to building rooms. He ignored the comments and felt under the concrete floor. Part of him searched for something that felt close to the soil in the planters and in the park, but there was nothing resembling that. 
Sedentary rocks, something with a crystalline structure, something dense, denser than anything he’d felt before. He’d lost his instinctive knowledge of what composed the earth with the change. In place, he felt loose soil, but even that was too dense to be used.
He kept walking until he was away from the workers. He wanted to be alone for this. He didn’t know how much of his composure he’d be able to maintain if it didn’t work, and he didn’t want witnesses. Ditching his human security had been easy, they were was only human after all.
He stopped when none of the sounds of work reached him and knelt. He ran a hand against the concrete. It was harder than frozen soil, so it would be a good thing to practice on.
He felt it, the mixture of sand and binders he couldn’t sense. Breaking concrete was simply a matter of getting the sand to move, exert more pressure on the binder than it could stand. Easy, he told himself. That was easy. He’d done it often enough, brought entire buildings down on armies.
Back when he could shift the course of a river, he reminded himself bitterly.
He didn’t need to bring down a building. All he needed to do was crack the concrete, break it in chunks so he could pick them up. They’d carry the soil back in frozen pieces and it would melt in the greenhouse.
He felt for weak spots, places where there was almost no binder. The sand would have less with work against. He focused on such a spot, told the sand to shift. Gritted his teeth. Just a crack, come on. He didn’t want an upheaval, just a little shift.
“Damn it!” He slammed a fist against the concrete and only managed to hurt himself. “Why won’t you respond?” He could draw strength, feel the earth, so why couldn’t he move it?
He concentrated again, harder. He would resort to a pick if he had to, but that was just as everyone else could do. To pull his weight, he had to do something only he could.
“Break!” he demanded. “Come on!” he pleaded. He screamed as he pounded his will against the floor.
Someone grabbed his arm before he could smash his fist on the concrete. He wrenched it out of her hand, glaring. “What are you doing here, Alicia?”
The badger looked at him, amused. “Seems that your escort lost track of you, so DHC sent me to track you down.”
“He sent you?”
She pursed her lips. “Well, I didn’t wait for the order. He was busy screaming at that poor man when I snuck out.” She indicated the floor. “What are you trying to do?”
“What do you care,” El replied bitterly.
She sat and leaned against the wall. “Believe it or not, I do want to be on the right side. Not just because it means I’ll survive. But because it’s what I should have done from the start.”
El studied her. “And I’m the right side?”
“You and Vee are putting the whole of the community first, so yes, you are.” She indicated the ground again. “So, what are you trying to do?”
He sighed. “I need to get soil so we can grow more food.”
“I don’t think there’s any soil under there, but there’s plenty of strong people back there, and I know we have picks stored somewhere.”
“I need to be the one doing it.”
“Why?”
He glared at her.
“I’m just trying to understand.”
He looked at the floor, ran a hand over it. “I’m useless.” She snorted. “I used to be able to carry entire battles. I’ve ended fights with a thought. Drowned armies, buried them. Now all I can do is stand by Vee while he has to do all the work.”
“Oh, and he complains so much about that,” she said, and El didn’t miss the sarcasm in her tone.
“Maybe you should stick to stuff you know,” he growled.
“So you know what I’m good for?”
He glared at her, but she didn’t look away.
“I’m Infantry. Do you know why I was made? They made me so I’d die. I’m one of millions that are thrown against walls of enemy soldiers and only expected to die. That’s my one function. To die. So spare me the pity party. So fucking boo hoo, you can’t move mountains anymore. You still have powers. I have nothing but my claws and the knowledge that tomorrow might be the day I’ll die. How many fucking years have you been alive? I have fifteen to look forward to, twenty, tops. Do you hear me bitch?”
“You’re not really endearing yourself to me,” El growled.
She snorted. “If that’s what I wanted to do I’d be offering to suck you off.”
Now he snorted. “Good luck with that one.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not your type? You just like guys?”
He shook his head. “Just not been in the mood to be with anyone other than Vee recently.”
“Lucky you.”
The tone made him look at her.
“You have someone. I never had that. On the wall, we’re too busy freezing to do more than warm each other against our bodies.”
“You’re not on the wall anymore.”
“But I’m the police. Now anyone who might have been interested in me before stays away because I might tell the Governor that they’ve been growing a little extra food without telling anyone. Without sharing.”
“Have they?”
“I wouldn’t tell you if they had.”
“Then why join? You could have become a worker.”
She rested her hand on the wall. “Because it’s the right thing to do. I might die tomorrow, but I’m going to do so keeping people safe, even from themselves, if that’s what it takes.”
“You won’t die tomorrow.”
“Probably, but you won't see me hiding in a corner feeling sorry for myself until it happens.”
“As anyone ever told you what a bitch you can be?”
“More often than you can imagine. I’ll endure many things, but self-pity isn’t one of them. You’d be amazed how much of it the end of the world can cause.”
El stood. “I suppose you’re right.” He looked at the floor he hadn’t been able to crack. He could stay here and keep trying to do something that wouldn’t happen. Or he could get to work and pull his weight the only way he was able to now. “So, you said you know where there were picks?”