Loch pushed the shovel, moving the snow past the stairs that led up into one of the bunkhouses. He stopped pushing, lifting the shovel and pushing it into the pile he had made halfway up, getting a good amount on the shovel. Lifting, he tossed the snow as deep as he could into the space between two buildings. Putting the shovel back down, Loch pushed more snow, but heading into the space between the buildings.

  This alley had been kept clear, not stacked with firewood, making it easier for him. He stopped halfway down, heading back to the other end and pushing more snow down into the middle. It took a couple of minutes to get the area in front of both buildings clear, all the snow piled up in the middle.

  The storm had lasted a couple hours, leaving four or five inches of heavy powder in the morning. The temperature had dropped considerably. The wind hadn’t let up, blowing snow across the school, piling it up in places they didn’t want.

  Loch had gotten up early, joining a small army of clan members. The plan was to clear out all the snow from the paths and around the side and rear of the school. They’d leave some in the grassy open yard in the front of the school, but everywhere else would be removed. The piles left behind would be removed over the next couple of days using wheelbarrows and wagons.

  Moving over to the next alley, seeing that the space was stacked full of snow covered logs, Loch held the shovel vertical, dragging snow away. He gathered some in front of the building, pushing it back over the cleared area and down into the middle. The whole morning was filled with the scrapping of shovels, grunts of people working. There was talking and some cursing. He heard voices just on the other side of the mound of snow he’d made.

  “Why the hell are we stuck doing this?” someone grumbled.

  Loch recognized the voice as Roger Lewis, not surprised that the man was complaining. It seemed like that was all the man did.

  “Quiet, Loch is over there somewhere,” someone else answered. Loch didn’t recognize that voice.

  “Oh isn’t that nice of the almighty Lord to slum it with the rest of us,” Roger muttered, but did lower his voice.

  Loch wouldn’t have heard him if the man hadn’t been so close. He thought about walking over there, seeing what Roger would do, but decided not to. It wasn’t worth it. Roger always complained.

  With a sigh, Loch started pushing snow again.

  ***

  Loch walked into the cafeteria. He’d left his jacket, gloves and hat back in the lobby on the drying lines that had been set up. There were dozens of other winter gear already there. The cafeteria was full of people, most of those that had been out shoveling. At least the first shift. The second shift was heading out to continue.

  People saw Loch entering, calling out greetings. He waved, talking with some as he headed for the kitchen. It took some time to make his way past all the crowded tables. There were so many people, that some were standing, eating their breakfast and drinking their hot tea.

  Coffee and cocoa were in short supply and would be for most of the winter. There just hadn’t been many supplies found. They’d managed to find a couple hundred packets of hot chocolate, which would be rationed throughout the winter. They were very close to running out of coffee. The tea wouldn’t be far behind.

  That was at the top of their list of problems, and it had only been the first snow.

  They had scavenged everything they could for coffee and tea, anything that would help make hot beverages and caffeine. Loch really wanted hot drinks. Even as an adult, nothing beat a mug of hot chocolate after he’d spent an hour or so snow blowing and shoveling.

  He’d just spent a couple hours shoveling. Pre-Connection, his body would have been killing him from lifting all that heavy snow. He was tired, but his Adapted body handled the work a lot easier. His Stamina had taken a hit, but it was already regenerating.

  Loch hadn’t been surprised to see that the Connected System considered shoveling as ‘in combat’ for the regeneration of the energy. The laborers had complained about their Stamina not regenerating as they were working building the wall or moving the fallen trees, the more they labored the more it was drained. Crafters suffered the same. The more they worked, the faster their Stamina drained. Shoveling was just more of the same.

  Which is why they worked in shifts. It also gave almost the whole clan something to do.

  Finally reaching the kitchen, Loch joined the end of the line.

  “Oh Lord Lochlan,” the man at the end said, surprised to see him.

  “Good afternoon,” Loch said. “At least I think it’s afternoon. The sky’s kind of gray right now, hard to see the sun.”

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  The man chuckled. He was older, probably seventy or so when the Connected had hit. Long white hair and beard, piercing blue eyes. He wore a pair of jeans and button-up shirt.

  “You were out shoveling?” he asked with surprise.

  “Of course,” Loch said, shrugging.

  “Ah, well.. Uh… I have third shift,” the man said. “Kind of hoping it’ll all be done by then,” he said with a small chuckle.

  Loch smiled. It wouldn’t be, but he didn’t say that.

  “I’m sorry,” Loch said, extending his hand. “But I don’t know your name.”

  The older man laughed.

  “Not a surprise. You’re a pretty busy guy and there’s a couple hundred of us around here. Jerry Daniels,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Loch shook it.

  “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “You as well Lord Lochlan,” Jerry said, winking. He raised his hands before Loch could protest. “Sorry, I heard you don’t like that name.”

  “I don’t,” Loch answered, smiling.

  “Hope that didn’t offend you,” Jerry said, smiling. “My wife, god rest her soul, always said that I didn’t know when to shut up.”

  “Your wife,” Loch asked, smile fading. “Did she…”

  “She passed three years before the Connection,” Jerry replied, still smiling but Loch saw some sadness in his eyes. “Cancer sucks.”

  “Yes it does.”

  They fell silent as the line moved forward, the two entering the kitchen itself. Not much had changed inside. People pushed trays down the counter made by the stainless steel pipes. Food filled the trays in the counter with the workers behind it. The clan members still got a small amount of food, all of it rationed.

  The workers saw Loch, eyes widening. One of them turned to go back and grab more food to give him.

  “Don’t,” he called out. “I’ll take the same amount as everyone else.”

  The worker returned to her position, nodding, looking embarrassed. Loch sighed.

  “Don’t like special treatment?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You need to get over that son,” Jerry said, holding his tray up to receive his portion of the food. “You do so much for the people, let them do something for you.”

  “It’s not right,” Loch said, holding his tray up.

  The worker’s put two slices of buttered bread, a juice pouch, a small amount of carrots, some fruit and a couple slices of what looked like pork. Loch glanced at Jerry’s tray seeing one slice of pork compared to Loch’s two. He was about to say something but saw the workers were intently ignoring him. Loch sighed, following Jerry out of the kitchen.

  He still followed the older man to a couple of open spots at a table. They sat down. Jerry pointed to the slices of meat.

  “People are thankful for you,” Jerry said, seriously. “We wouldn’t be in this position if not for you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Loch said, just as seriously, some depression in his voice. “We barely have supplies for the winter.” He pointed to the food. “We’re barely giving people enough food. There’s barely enough protection from the monsters out there,” he continued, waving a hand toward the doors.

  Jerry laughed, shaking his head.

  “All that barely that you just talked about? How many people out there don’t have that? Or have it worse? Yeah, it’s not as safe as it was before all this crap, but this place is still safe. People have a roof over their head. They have heat for the cold and clothing. There’s work. Some people risk their lives daily, but that is their choice. The rest of us, we have what we need and we can all tell that it’ll get better.” He leaned forward, pointing his fork at Loch. “Whatever you may think, the rest of us think something else. Sure there are some that grumble and complain, there’s always going to be pains in the arse like that. The majority though? We know what we have here and are thankful for it.” He leaned back, smiling. “And you need to let us show how thankful we are.”

  Loch shook his head. He understood what Jerry was saying, but understanding and accepting were two different things.

  “Just let it happen,” Jerry said. “You don’t have to let it get too bad. Nothing wrong with an extra slice of meat.”

  Loch laughed.

  “What did you do Pre-Connection?”

  Jerry looked embarrassed and sighed.

  “I was a psychiatrist,” he admitted. “Not a good one but it paid the bills.”

  “Naw, I think you were a very good one.”

  I doubt that,” Loch said.

  Jerry smiled. Loch looked around at the crowded cafeteria, thinking of the overheard conversation between Roger and whoever he’d been talking to. Before they’d figured out how to get everyone working, there had been a lot of depressed members of the clan. With everyone mostly stuck inside the clanhold for the next few months, not really working, there was going to be more depression and frustration.

  “Sadly, I think we’re going to be needing you before the winter is done.”

  Jerry looked around at the people, some who were looking down dejectedly at their food. Some were smiling, still happy after playing in the snow. Others just stared off at nothing.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Jerry said quietly.