"We should probably pull them out and cremate them. If we just let them float downstream, they’ll pollute the water source, and besides... it’s just too pitiful."
They don’t have any clothes on, either. They’re our countrymen. Since we have the means, none of us could bear to just leave their bodies exposed in the water.
Evelyn Ford nodded. "Let’s pull them out."
There was a pit on the small island used for cremating bodies. After the six corpses were pulled out, everyone realized the deceased were all older adults—men and women who looked to be at least in their fifties or sixties.
Quincy didn’t want Zoe to see the cremation, but she was a brave girl, her face completely devoid of fear.
In silence, they placed the bodies into the pit, added some firewood, and poured gasoline over them.
"They’re all elderly, and there are no wounds on their bodies. Could it be food poisoning?"
Evelyn Ford looked at Quincy. "What do you mean?"
"I just took a look. Their faces are tinged blue and their lips are black, which look a lot like signs of poisoning."
’I didn’t look closely enough. I can’t believe I missed such an important detail.’
"That’s possible. The people in the refugee camp can’t survive on their meager relief rations. They all go to the mountains around Flumen to dig for roots or pick leaves. The forests around Flumen are almost completely bare. If they ate a poisonous plant, it’s very likely they died from poisoning."
"If that’s what happened, that’s just tragic."
After the cremation was complete, they collected some of the ashes and buried them by a pine tree. They scattered the rest into the stream to float away.
The ashes weren’t a pollutant, so it was fine to scatter them in the water.
Back at the cabin, the others came over to ask what had happened, and Quincy recounted the events.
Quincy rubbed his face. "I hope this polar night ends soon. If the sun doesn’t come out, the trees will die without light. When that happens, life will become even more difficult for the hundred thousand-plus refugees."
"There’s a very serious problem," Evelyn began, glancing at the others. "If they can’t dig up roots, pick leaves, or strip bark from around Flumen, the refugees might turn on the base, or even Flumen itself. Over a hundred thousand refugees is no small number. Once people get hungry enough, they’re capable of anything."
"The natural disaster isn’t even over, and man-made calamities are already on its heels. I’m worried we’re going to see war or riots break out."
"What?" Everyone was stunned by Evelyn’s words.
"War?" Taylor Vance frowned, sitting off to the side. No one wasn’t afraid of war; it had always been a distant concept. ’If it really happens, what are we supposed to do?’
"Don’t worry," Evelyn said. "If war or riots break out, we can leave and go somewhere else. I’m not trying to be an alarmist, but historically, peace is often restored through war after major disasters. The cataclysm has left too many people without enough food or warm clothes, so some will inevitably want to rebel. With so many starving people, the resentment they’ve built up runs deep. They hate the residents in the base who have full bellies, warm clothes, and houses to live in. If someone issues a call to arms, the response will be overwhelming."
Most of the people present were educated enough to understand her reasoning. Many major historical events served as clear precedents.
"I don’t want to see our own people fighting each other. I can’t accept the idea of countrymen slaughtering one another." Joelle Finch was young, and Evelyn’s words frightened her so much her hands trembled.
Wyatt Vaughn took her hand. "But what can we do? Other than protecting ourselves, we don’t have the power to change anything."
"We just have to protect ourselves. In a chaotic world, self-preservation is all that matters."
Although she had plenty of weapons in her space, Evelyn didn’t want to get involved in any conflicts. She had zero interest in vying for power.
She couldn’t afford to support any more people, either. The supplies in her space seemed plentiful, but there were thirteen of them. One person could consume hundreds of pounds of grain in a year, let alone thirteen people.
’Self-preservation is the best strategy. Not everyone is cut out to be a hero in chaotic times.’
"But if we have to leave again, where else can we go?" Wendy asked, resting her chin in her hand. Then, as a thought struck her, her eyes lit up.
"Let’s go home."
"Home?" The others were confused.
"Yeah, home. Back to our original home. Dad, I want to go back and see Mom." Her words instantly made Officer Graham, a grown man, tear up.
"But our home is in Corinth. That’s in the south, a long, long way from here."
Wendy’s eyes welled with tears. "Does that mean we’ll never be able to go home again?"
"Of course we can. We’ll definitely go back someday."
The mood soured for the others as well. Any mention of home reminded them of the family they had lost in the apocalypse.
"Let’s not get too worked up. It’s the middle of the polar night. Even if riots were to break out, now isn’t the best time for them."
Evelyn, however, had a different take. "People are more impulsive in the dark, and their emotions are more easily manipulated. Darkness is like a shroud; it can conceal crime and provide the perfect cover for a riot."
"If you were the leaders of the base, how would you deal with the hundred thousand-plus refugees in the camp?"
Evelyn’s question made everyone exchange bewildered glances. The people most qualified to answer were Taylor Vance and Zion Lowell.
"Increase the relief ration from three pounds to five. Build some simple housing around the Flumen refugee camp, with men and women housed separately. Arrange for armed patrols to stand guard. Execute any troublemakers on the spot to make an example of them." This was Miles Vaughn’s answer.
"Set up a small clinic in the camp," Quincy added. "Medicine can’t be free; that would just feed people’s greed. But it would help reduce the spread of disease."
Peter Owens raised his hand. "I think they should gather up the orphans. The children are the most vulnerable; they don’t understand what’s happening. Besides, if the base were to raise these orphans, it might produce a different kind of outcome."
"And what about the elderly?"
Zion Lowell spoke up. "The elderly can work, too. Anyone who wants to live has an infinite will to survive. Give them jobs, like sewing clothes or cleaning. If the refugee camp is cleaner, there will be far less disease. A lot of diseases spread from Africa because some countries are poor, underdeveloped, and unhygienic. Most importantly, the filthier a place is, the higher the chances of AIDS appearing."
"That’s true," Ethan Dawson said, pausing for a moment before continuing. "But anything we can think of, the base leadership can think of too. The key is, I suspect they want to let these people die off on their own. Look at the animal kingdom. When there’s a problem in the ecosystem, the weakest animals are the first to be abandoned."
Everyone understood the logic, but this was over a hundred thousand people.
These weren’t just numbers; they were human lives.
"Listen to me," Evelyn said, signaling for quiet.
"This ecosystem includes us. When a crisis hits, our first instinct is to run. We don’t have the power to save humanity. There’s no shame in running."