Free The Alpha Chronicles by Joe Nobody

moment and then closed. Terri watched , her hands clasped as if in prayer. Time passed, and she was about to turn away when Bishop’s mouth moved… once… twice… and then he whispered hoarsely, “Water.”
    Terri was overwhel med for a moment, before ransacking the room to fill her husband’s request. The nightstand was void of liquids, and there weren’t any cups to fill. A single tear slid down her cheek as she kissed Bishop’s forehead and promised, “I’ll get you something to drink. Just hold on, Bishop.”
    Hitting the call button hanging from the bed’s rail, Terri paused and then headed out of the room. Her intention was to race to the nurses’ station and get some water. She made it to the door where she smacked headlong into an RN on her way to answer the alarm.
    “He’s awake! He opened his eyes! He said the word ‘Water,’” came bubbling from Terri’s throat.
    The nurse moved to check the patient, but Bishop did not respond. “Okay, tell me exactly what happened,” the lady instructed a disappointed Terri.

Chapter 2
    Alpha, Texas
    January 10, 2016
     
    Word of a wondrous land filled with neon lights, culinary delights, and a functioning economy spread quickly throughout West Texas even though the collapse of the US economy had left a gaping hole in the communication sector. Prior to the fall, Americans were constantly pelleted with updates and salacious gossip via Facebook and Twitter and internet news. Citizens had been spoiled by the ability to be “in the know” every second of every day. Living through the most newsworthy event of US history without the benefit of cable-delivered updates created a vacuum that demanded to be satisfied. And so the news of West Texas’ move from simply surviving, to all out thriving passed through multiple venues, some sophisticated and deliberate, some accidental and “no tech.” Despite the low population density and lack of phone service, information managed to get around. 
    Without television, internet, or newspapers, people’s hunger for any sort of update was intense. Rumors, exaggerated claims, and false reports dominated most of the exchanges, but people didn’t seem to care. Any story from the outside world, even if make-believe, seemed to provide a break from a life that had turned into a mundane existence. 
    Two ranch hands, each riding fence for neighboring spreads, stopped to exchange gossip. It took a while, but one finally convinced the other that he wasn’t joking - Meraton had electricity, air conditioning, and frosty alcoholic beverages.
    Another man stopped in to visit an elderly neighbor while on a hunt, the former anxious to see the excitement on his friend’s face as he told the story of Alpha’s streetlights glowing on the distant horizon.  
    The distribution of information wasn’t always haphazard. Alpha and Meraton were each home to a single surviving HAM radio operator. Both men’s equipment now glowed warm with energized tubes and charged circuits – all because of the wind. The capabilities afforded by the long-range communications reached far beyond an amateur broadcaster in Meraton being able to share updates with a comrade in Alpha. Signals were sent and received from all over the nation, and even a few voices from abroad were detected.
    By whatever means, more and more people learned of the miracle of West Texas each day. Most were enamored with the story because of the sliver of hope it engendered. Desperate citizens who were barely hanging onto life possessed a deep thirst for a drink of optimism. Most people couldn’t muster the wherewithal to pick up and travel to the fabled paradises of Meraton or Alpha. Unless their current existence was unsustainable, most of the survivors deemed the risk of relocation too high. But there were many who had run out of options – many who felt they had nothing to lose.
    Some people called them refugees. Others preferred the term immigrants. The influx started as a