Read After the Fall: Jason's Tale for Free Online

and the work they had to do on the town projects.
Top down control was established in the name of civic order. Most people went
along with it since it meant regular, if limited, food to eat. In addition the
town was building up its defenses—walling itself in—to keep out wandering
refugees and roving gangs.
    On his last trip to town, Jason was stopped by some of the
militia. They wanted to know where he lived and why he didn’t have a ration
card. When Jason protested that he didn’t have to answer such questions they
grabbed him and handcuffed him. During the struggle a crowd began to form.
Finally a man came up who seemed to be in charge.
    “What’s going on?” he demanded.
    “This guy doesn’t have a ration card and won’t tell us where
he lives,” one of the militia replied.
    The man walked up to Jason who was glaring at everyone. “Why
the reluctance to tell us about yourself?” he asked.
    “It’s none of your business,” Jason replied.
    “Well it is. I’m in charge of the town, my name’s Frank
Mason. We have to restore order, so questions like these are necessary. We’d
like you to cooperate.”
    “I don’t live in town. I live outside, in the western
suburbs,” Jason lied. I don’t have a ration card because I don’t need one. I
can feed myself.” He glared back at Frank. “So is that enough information for
you?”
    Frank looked thoughtful. “That explains a lot. But you
should know that you may not be able to enter town soon. If you’re going to be
on your own, you’re not going to have the town to lean on. We can’t have people
using our resources and not joining our team and becoming part of our
rebuilding work.” He turned to the militia man in charge. “Let him go and see
that he leaves town. If he comes in again, arrest him.”
    They released Jason and escorted him west out of town. When
the militia departed, he circled back to the south to arrive and arrived at home
much later that night.
     
    Jason knew it was only a matter of time before the militia
showed up at his house. He guessed he would he be forced to give up his food
and his weapons; forced to move into town, to ‘donate’ his resources and be
stripped of everything for self-sufficiency. He would become a ward of the
government with this new system, under the control of those few in power. He
wanted no part of it.
    What to do? The choice was to either submit to the
dictatorship of martial law in town and be stripped of his independence…or…head
out into the deep forest, on his own, alone. Jason was comfortable in the
woods, but living alone? And how would he get through the winters? Would there
be anyone out there who would accept him into their household? He thought about
his own situation and decided it would not be likely. Most people were probably
just hanging on, even in the countryside, and they would be suspicious of
strangers, having had to rely on themselves to defend against any gangs.
    After a few more run-ins with wandering scavengers, Jason
knew he had to leave. Word was going to spread that he had supplies. The
stories would get passed around, growing as they circulated and soon the
authorities would focus on him. He would put his trust in his own survival
skills. He would head north, into the Appalachia Mountains, away from cities
and the corruption that came with them. With his food supplies, his camping
gear and weapons, Jason figured he could find a remote place to hole up until
this catastrophe passed. And if it didn’t, he would at least be safe, if alone,
in the mountain woods. While confident of his skills in the woods, a kernel of
doubt still remained in the back of his mind about being so alone.
    With his decision made, he set about building a travois. He
made a modern version of the old Indian device, working day and night, racing
against the day when the militia would show up. The travois would allow him to
carry a large store of supplies until he could set up a new living