Chapter 253: Trading in Grefort - II

More people appeared as Old Nick and his group moved deeper into the southern districts.

Some worked outside damaged buildings while others carried boxes between reopened shops. Engineers were scattered among them, usually easy to recognize from the large yellow cases and equipment around their backs.

A group worked on one apartment block with part of its outer wall still missing. Across the street, another building already had lights inside.

Joe stopped and started at it.

"Is that electricity?"

"Looks like they got their lights up here."

"Damn it! And I had to put up with my dark room all those months?"

Nick could not blame him for that one.

They passed another intersection. This time, the road ahead was not empty.

Several civilian vehicles occupied one side while people moved between shops that were reopened along the surrounding block.

Tarps covered damaged storefronts. Tables had been set outside where the interiors were still unusable.

Food.

Clothes.

Tools.

Fuel containers.

Spare vehicle parts.

Even a few boxes of canned goods were stacked underneath one awning.

Joe slowed without being told.

"What the hell is this?"

One of the men in the back leaned between the seats.

"Is that a market?"

Nick looked around and saw that it wasn’t large.

Maybe a few dozen stalls and reopened shops spread across the block, with more people moving through the nearby streets.

But there were no barricades around every corner.

Nobody was watching the rooftops with a rifle.

A woman was arguing with a man over the price of something inside a crate.

Two children ran past them carrying bread.

Someone farther down the street was trying to start a motorcycle while another person shouted instructions at him.

Nick remained quiet.

Yesterday, he came north because he wanted to know whether the soldiers had been telling the truth.

He no longer needed to ask.

Nick and the others parked the truck near the edge of the block and approached one of the stalls.

Vegetables occupied most of the table, packed into small bundles beside several cuts of meat kept inside a covered container.

Nick’s attention went straight toward the latter.

Fresh meat had become difficult to come by around their settlement. The few pigs, cattle and other livestock that survived were worth far more alive than butchered. Nobody wanted to eat through what little breeding stock remained just because they wanted something better than canned food for dinner.

Yet someone here was selling meat across a table.

"Ah, new faces?"

The stall owner waved them closer. He barely looked at the rifles slung across their backs.

"You from outside the city?"

"South," Nick answered. "A small settlement along the Silverpeak road."

"That explains it."

The man looked toward the bags they carried.

"First time trading inside Grefort?"

"How did you know?"

"If you did, you would have asked for a price already. And I remember them faces of my customers."

Joe stepped closer to the meat.

"How much for that?"

"Depends on what you brought."

They showed him part of what they had carried from the settlement. The stall owner checked through it without much ceremony before pointing farther down the block.

"If you’re only looking for food and water, you’ll find enough around here. More stalls open every few days."

He pointed farther into the city.

"Household things, soap, clothes, that kind of stuff? Better selections farther in. Highcross has more shops opening again."

"What about machine parts? Our truck could use a little help." one of the others asked.

"Eh, for that you have to go to Westgate. Lots of industrial stock around there. There’s also a smaller settlement trading recovered material near the western side. Ask around once you get closer and somebody will point you there."

Nick looked along the street. People did not just sell whatever they happened to find anymore. Different parts of Grefort were already beginning to supply different things.

Food here somewhere in the southern districts.

Commercial goods farther inside.

Industrial material up north toward Westgate.

The city was still broken in more places than Nick could count, but somehow people were reconnecting the pieces again.

Nick returned his attention to the stall.

"So, what can we actually get with these?"

The man pulled one of their bags closer and looked through it properly this time.

Several sealed packs went aside first, followed by a handful of batteries and two small vehicle parts one of the others had brought from their repair shop.

He ignored a few other things entirely.

"This is useful."

Joe frowned.

"What about the rest?"

"I already have plenty of those. I don’t really need them."

"So they’re worthless?"

"To me. You can try your luck on the other stalls over there."

The stall owner pointed toward several stalls farther down the street.

"Someone else might want them."

The man looked over the things he had chosen again before reaching beneath the table.

"For these, I’ll give you vegetables, two cans, and that cut there."

Joe immediately pointed toward the meat.

"That one?"

"That one."

"Deal."

Nick looked at him.

"You didn’t even bargain."

Joe shrugged.

"I want meat. Been eating canned shit for ages."

The stall owner laughed.

"Your friend learns fast."

Nick didn’t spend the time arguing.

After the first trade, they moved through several other stalls and tried whatever remained in their bags.

Some traders wanted what they carried. Others already had enough of the same thing and sent them somewhere else.

A box of batteries earned them several more canned goods. Two unopened bottles of alcohol went quickly at another stall, while nobody seemed interested in some of the older clothes they brought until a woman farther down the block took them in exchange for soap and several packets of dried food.

By the time they were finished, most of what they brought was gone.

Their truck would return south carrying far more useful things. Joe seemed especially pleased with the meat.

"You better share that."

"I traded for it."

"We all brought the goods."

Joe looked at the wrapped cut in his hands.

"I’ll think about it."

Nick smacked the back of his head. They remained around the market afterward.

There was no need to rush home when they had barely seen anything beyond the southern edge of Grefort.

The surrounding streets carried more signs of what happened here.

Several old government notices had been replaced with newer sheets telling people which roads were open, where damaged infrastructure could be reported and which districts remained restricted.

The walls were less official.

Someone had painted a rough eagle across the side of a damaged shop, its wings stretched across several meters of cracked concrete. The letters G.E. sat beneath it.

Another wall carried a much simpler message.

------

THANK YOU, GOLDEN EAGLE SOLDIERS.

------

A few other drawings were worse that Nick could barely tell they were supposed to be birds.

Joe stared at one of them.

"They really like those soldiers around here."

"If somebody cleared millions of infected out of your city, you’d probably like them too."

"I would. Doesn’t mean I’d trust the guy running the army with everything."

Nick looked at him.

"What are you worried about?"

"I don’t know. Military guy with this many soldiers? Maybe one day he starts conscripting everybody."

"Hey!"

The shout came from nearby.

Joe and the rest of the group turned.

A boy standing beside one of the reopened shops was glaring at him.

"You talking shit about Golden Eagle?"

Joe pointed at himself.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you!"

"When did I talk shit about him?"

"You said he’ll conscript people!"

"I said maybe."

"Golden Eagle doesn’t conscript people! His soldiers help us!"

Nick grabbed Joe by the shoulder before he could walk closer.

"Don’t start a mess."

"I’m not starting anything. The kid shouted at me."

Nick ignored him and looked toward the boy.

"We’re from outside Grefort. He doesn’t know how things work here."

"Then tell him not to bad-mouth the Commander!"

The boy’s response answered several questions in their mind.

Golden Eagle was a person, and a very important one at that.

Before Nick could ask anything else, a woman hurried out from the nearby shop and grabbed the boy by the arm.

"I’m sorry. He’s been like this ever since the city was cleared."

"But Mom-"

"Enough."

"He insulted Golden Eagle!"

"He asked a stupid question. That’s different."

Joe opened his mouth, but Nick tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"Don’t do it. This is Grefort, not the damn settlement."

Joe shut it again.

The woman pulled the boy toward the shop, still apologizing while the kid continued looking back at them.

Nick watched them leave.

"Seems the Commander has fans."

"Crazy ones," Joe muttered.

A commotion farther up the road interrupted them.

Several people were leaving the market and moving toward the larger avenue. More voices joined them from the surrounding shops.

Then somebody came running around the corner.

"Another army’s coming through!"

People looked up while the man kept moving.

"If you want to see them leave, get to the main road!"

The reaction around the market was immediate.

Shopkeepers stepped outside. Children ran ahead of their parents. Several traders left somebody else watching their stalls before joining the growing crowd.

Joe stared after them.

"What the hell is happening?"

Nick started walking.

"Stop asking and go look."