Free Surviving The Evacuation (Book 6): Harvest by Frank Tayell

She wasn’t sure she would have finished the meal, but she’d have liked to have had the chance.
    “But it’s safe, right?” Finnegan continued. “I mean, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
    “Please. Everyone,” Hana said, standing up. “If we’re to start the meeting now, please remember the rules. You must wait to be recognised before speaking.” The room went mostly quiet. “Um. Right. Well. Yes. Well, the radiation. The reading is above normal. But…” She glanced down at a stack of ledgers she’d brought with her into the dining hall, and which she’d spread out over the table, her own meal forgotten and congealing to one side. “Yes, it’s safe. That is the important part, though in this context ‘safe’ is hard to define. We have to rely on the figures given in a couple of textbooks, and they all seem to base their conclusions on the same studies of Chernobyl. The professor would have known, of course.” A wave of sorrow fluttered across her face. “But perhaps the details aren’t important. We, here, do not have to worry about radiation. There are, however, plenty of things we do need to worry about. Water, food, and heat are at the top of the list, along, of course, with safety.” She closed the ledger and opened the next. “Things aren’t as good as any of us would like. We lost a lot of supplies with those vehicles we left at the British Museum. But it isn’t all bad news. The pigs and the chickens…”
    Hana began an overlong explanation of feed stores, energy requirements, how much water the animals required, and how much human energy and time was needed to prepare it. Nilda looked over at McInery. The woman was sitting hands folded, listening intently. She was one of the few. Most had returned to their meals or sat with eyes glazed, not really taking in the details of what the young vet was saying, but seemingly comforted by the scientific summary.
    “Which means,” Hana finished, closing the ledger, “that unless circumstances change, we will need to slaughter one pig in five day’s time, and another a week after that. If we can stockpile water, and not have to use all our electricity on purification and sterilisation, then I think we could keep a freezer running for a total of eight days. But this would not be ideal. I know that pork chops are an appealing prospect, but what we eat now, we can’t eat this winter.” There were a few nods, a few grumbles, but no real dissent.
    They would follow the young vet, Nilda thought, and do what she said because they’d been fed and told that there would be food tomorrow.
    “Winter is the real problem,” Hana continued, “and autumn has yet to truly begin. Stewart? Do you have the list?”
    Stewart stood, and waved a clipboard.
    “It comes to about two weeks of stores?” Hana asked.
    “That’s it,” Stewart said. “About a week of fresh in the kitchens, then we’re on to the stores. Two weeks. Everything on here. I added it up when we brought it in from Kirkman House.”
    “So,” Hana said, “including the livestock and their feed, we’ll be starving before December.”
    That news was meant with stony silence.
    “What about Anglesey?” a voice called. Nilda turned to see who’d spoken. It was that man that McInery had gone to help earlier that day. Graham, wasn’t it?
    “They’ll have food won’t they?” Graham continued. “And they’ve a power station, so isn’t all this planning a bit pointless?”
    “Graham, please. We will be coming to that, but we have rules. You can speak when I’ve finished,” Hana said. Nilda was surprised to see that, after a brief pause, the man did actually retake his seat. “But, yes. Anglesey. It will take Chester a day to drive to Wales and perhaps two more to get to the island, is that right?”
    “At best,” Chester said.
    “At best, yes. At worst, it… um…” she stammered to a halt.
    “At worst, I’ll die along the way,” Chester said with a disarming smile.