Ash: Rise of the Republic by Campbell Paul Young

neighborhood was strung up in the new smokehouse
or cooked on propane stoves. Canned food was set aside so that we
could eat everything that might spoil.
    We weren't too concerned about the food. It
had been a productive month. The group in charge of food production
had taken over one of the vacant houses and nicknamed it ‘the
farm’. Its empty rooms were quickly filled with their projects.
    A large inflatable pool was set up in the
living room and a group of neighborhood kids had been put to work
with fishing poles and cast nets around the small communal pond in
the center of the subdivision. They had stocked the small pool with
dozens of catfish, bass, and crappie.
    A dozen skinny chickens and a rooster had
been found scratching in futility at the ash on an abandoned farm
nearby. One of the bedrooms was set up as a coop for them. The
children took turns gathering their eggs each morning.
    Eight pigs were housed in the garage. Every
night, the families brought their scraps and poured them in a
makeshift trough. We were excited for bacon and chops, but they
were scrawny when we found them, we were forced to let them fatten
for a few weeks.
    Two had also been found in a nearby pasture.
These we initially kept under the large covered back porch of ‘the
farm’, hoping for fresh milk. After a week of scouring the area for
clean bales of hay to feed them, we decided we would rather have
fresh beef.
    Our main worry was water. Without
electricity, the pumps on the municipal wells wouldn't run. Knowing
it was only a matter of time before our faucets ran dry, everyone
filled their bathtubs and sinks to the brim. Every empty container
in the neighborhood was filled and stored with the supplies in the
meeting house. The crew in charge of digging the well had made
progress, but they had yet to pull more than a few buckets of muddy
water from their hole. The small pond was an option, but we were
worried that the ash had tainted it. Soon after the children had
stocked the pool in ‘the farm’, the remaining fish had begun
floating to the surface, belly up. We decided we would use the
questionable water source only as a last resort.
    As we hurried around cooking meat and
filling bottles, we heard the alarm from the central guard post.
The four of us who were on duty as the quick response team rushed
to investigate. The sentry on the roof beckoned me up, waving his
binoculars. From his vantage point, I could see a figure stumbling
across the pasture on the other side of the thicket behind my
house. I ordered all the guard posts manned and led my well-armed
team to intercept the intruder.
    By the time the four of us filtered through
the twisted yaupons at the edge of the pasture, the figure had
fallen forward. He lay in the ash, face down. We approached
cautiously. He groaned softly as we gently turned him over. It took
me a moment to see past the grime and blood on his face, but his
torn uniform sparked recognition. I shook the exhausted man by the
shoulder until he opened his eyes.
    "If you're here, who's guarding the power
plant?" I asked the security guard.
    "They're all dead," he said with a frenzied
wheeze, "Those fuckers came in force, took the fence out with a
truck. They were all over us before we could respond. Must have
been fifty of them.” He paused for a deep, rattling cough. “They
weren't lookin’ for food either. They just killed everybody and
tore the place up. I got a few of them but there was too many.” His
eyes darted between our faces. “I jumped in the lake to get away. I
swam all the way across. I was hoping I could find your place,
wanted to warn you." The cough wracked his body again. "I hope
you're ready for 'em, they'll damn sure be here soon.”
    We helped him up and rushed him up the hill
to the vet, hoping she could do something for him. As we walked,
his arm draped over my shoulder, I realized, "Hey I never caught
your name, boss."
    "Beal, Andy Beal. Glad to meet you."
    ****
    While the vet was