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

you keep ahead of the police and militia.” Jason
suddenly had a thought. “When you’re safely past me, I’ll tell you where you
can find more food and clothing.”
    “Where?”
    “When you move past me in a tight group.”
    The leader turned to the others and they held a whispered
conversation. Blue jacket then turned back to Jason.
    “You’re not just puttin’ us on, are you? You’re serious?”
Hope resonated in his voice.
    “You won’t know until you go to the place I’ll tell you
about…it’s my home. It’s got supplies. I couldn’t take them all. There’s
clothes and a working well, if you know how to use it. I figure it’s a good
trade. You don’t try to overpower me, I don’t kill any of you and you get to
use what I left behind.”
    The group huddled for another whispered conversation.
    “All right, we’ll go on by, but if you’re lying, we’ll hunt
you down.”
    “I’m not…and don’t try to come after me or follow, I’ll
shoot without further warning.” Jason shouldered his rifle as the group filed
past him. Some stared at him with a dull look in their eyes, others glared in
resentment at him and his possessions.
    When they were past, Jason gave them directions and watched
them trudge off, the way he had come. When they were out of sight, he
shouldered his pack, hitched himself to the travois and set off down the road.
He walked late into the night pausing at times to watch the road behind him for
any sign the group was following. The road remained empty. The group probably
was feasting on what they had found. They could stay there for some time, but
the militia would come eventually. He couldn’t help that. The group had to deal
with them on their own. Later that night he worked his way far off the road and
set up a cold camp in a dense cover of trees.
    Could he have shot them? Jason didn’t know the answer. He
was glad his show of force had deterred the group. They had reacted the same
way as other scavengers he confronted. Would his luck hold? Jason’s gut feeling
was that if he encountered any of the local militia, his bluff would not work.
He shivered at the thought as he lay wrapped in his sleeping bag and ground
cloth.
    After a fitful night’s sleep, waking at every sound, he
started out again early in the morning. An hour down the road, he turned north.
The road cut through the eastern suburbs of Hillsboro, but it led to the
closest point where he could enter the National Forest. That would be his route
north, further into the Appalachia Mountains. He walked more carefully now,
stopping at every rise in the road to scan ahead with his binoculars. Twice he
saw militia patrols ahead. He turned off the road to give them a wide berth,
preferring a slower, more circuitous route to any encounters.
    Around noon, he stopped and refilled his water bottle from a
small creek, dropping in the purification tablets. Later in the afternoon, as
he approached a rise in the road, he unhitched his travois, hid it with his
pack in the bushes in front of a house and crawled to the top of the rise to
check the road. He lay in the un-mowed grass with his body pressed down against
the still-hard ground. Ahead the houses gave way to a small strip of stores.
There they were, five armed men purposely checking all the stores in the
center. These were not scavengers; they were armed and moved purposefully as if
they had a job to complete. The stores had most of their windows broken out.
Some had no doors. The men were focused on two of the stores that still seemed
closed up, perhaps protecting something valuable. The doors were apparently
strong having weathered the initial round of looting.
    While Jason was studying them with his binoculars, trying to
decide what to do, he suddenly noticed a sixth man scanning the area, also with
binoculars. His slow swing stopped when he was pointed at Jason. Had he seen
the glint of Jason’s binoculars? Suddenly the man jumped up, called to his
companions and