Ash: Rise of the Republic by Campbell Paul Young Read Free Book Online Page A

under cover like we
practiced! Rally on Blue once you get past the warehouse. We’re
right behind you, keep moving, don’t forget to cover your
partner.
    Once the smoke from the twins’ grenades
reached a sufficient density, the Captain gave the command and the
first pair scrambled around the corner of the warehouse under a
hail of covering fire. Two by two, the rangers escaped behind the
building until only the Captain and his wife were left.
    “You see the scars on that big one?” he
asked her as he pulled his detonator out of his pocket. He keyed in
a command and an enormous explosion rocked the copse of dead trees
where they had left their bikes. The violent blast momentarily
disrupted the steady fire from the outlaws and the two seasoned
rangers made their escape around the building.
    Rounding the warehouse, the Captain scanned
the tree line for a moment. A piece of blue cloth caught on a dead
branch fifty yards away fluttered in the light breeze. He tapped
his wife, nodded at the sign, and quickly made his way across the
open to join his troop.
    After doing a head count and checking for
injuries, he nodded at the pair of scouts and they set off to the
south through the trees in the fading light, quickly out pacing the
shouts and crashes of their more numerous but undisciplined
pursuers. Two miles later, they reached Blue’s escape plan: a storm
drain outlet hidden by a deadfall. There was a short,
claustrophobic crawl before they were safe in a small, lightless
chamber. They cracked chemlights and made camp for the night. As
they settled in to check their gear and clean their weapons, the
Captain pulled his whiskey bottle from his pack and cleared his
throat.
    “I want everyone to take a moment to mourn
your fallen friends,” He began, “and then I need you to store that
pain away and start thinking. Think about what happened. Think
about every step you took and how you could have done it better.
Think about how those two could have avoided capture, think about
how hungry it’s going to get for the next few days. What I don’t
want you thinking about is revenge. Not because I don’t think you
deserve it, we all do. No, none of you is going to get revenge
because that big bald son of a bitch is mine. His name is Werner.
We have history.”

Chapter 3
    July, 0 PC (2015 AD)
    *
    “ Communications had broken down so
quickly that most survivors initially underestimated the extent of
the devastation. Without the media to tell them otherwise, each of
the families or groups that huddled together for comfort assumed
that they were only temporarily isolated, that the government was
on the way to help. Nothing could have been further from the
truth.”
    -Kristen Harrisburg, ‘The Grey Panic’; RNT
University Press, 36 PC (2051 AD);
    *
    The ash was still coming down when we woke up. There
was already a foot of it on the ground, and it had piled up on the
north side of the house so high that it was blocking off the lower
half of some of the windows. We had a quick breakfast, suited up,
and trudged up the hill for the neighborhood meeting.
    There was only one vacant house in the
neighborhood. It was desirable real estate, so houses didn’t stay
on the market long when someone needed to sell. Mike and I had told
everyone to meet there because it was neutral ground. I wanted to
avoid politics here and I didn’t want someone thinking I was trying
to put myself in charge by hosting everyone at my house.
    We set up in the big living room, and over
the next hour couples trickled in, wrapped in an assortment of
homemade ash suits. Everyone had heeded my advice the night before.
Some only had towels or bandannas wrapped around their mouths, but
a number of them had real gas masks. Clearly there were more
‘preppers’ in my area than I had thought.
    I wasn’t familiar with everyone, so I took
the time to introduce myself as they arrived. Once everyone had
settled in, muttering amongst themselves, I decided to start