Free Born in the Apocalypse 2: State Of Ruin by Joseph Talluto Page A

suffered for it, but I was still able to hit the hay bale. I also practiced my draw, and got more familiar with my little pistol. It was a Colt Automatic, a .25 caliber gun, small enough to fit in my pocket. The magazine held six rounds, and the bullets were the smallest I had ever seen that weren’t .22’s. I wasn’t sure how useful it would ever be, but I made a small holster out of an extra piece of deer hide and the little gun rode on my belt directly above my right butt cheek.
    On the ninth day, Mack Brewster paid me a visit. It was evening, and the weather had been amazingly good for that time of year. Normally, it would be rainy and cool, but for some reason, we were blessed with meteorological magic.
    “Evening Josh!” Mack bellowed from his horse. “How you gettin’ along?”
    “Evening, Sheriff. Getting along fine, thank you. I appreciate the lodgings and the privacy,” I said.
    “Good, good. You busy right now?” Mack asked.
    “Nope. You need me?”
    “Former Mayor Blake Rutledge, and current Council President Blake Rutledge, would like to talk to you,” Mack said with a slight flourish of his hand. “I’m to fetch you if you’re free.”
    “Give me a minute and I’ll be right with you,” I said.
    “Take your time. I’m in no hurry and his honor ain’t going nowheres, anyway,” Mack said with a lift of his eyebrow.
    I belted on my gun and shrugged into my coat. As I was leaving the house, Brewster stopped me.
    “Begging your pardon, Josh, but I was told to ask you to bring your archery kit,” Mack said.
    I shrugged. “No problem. One more minute.”
    We were on our way in less time than that, and as we went through the more populated neighborhoods, I could see some people looking me over.  I could almost see their thoughts, wondering who I was, why was I with the sheriff, and so on and so on. I was a stranger, so this was to be expected. I tried to imagine what they saw when I rode past, and after a few miserable ideas about my looks, I stopped that.
    We entered the city proper, and while many of the homes were occupied, many more were not. I asked Brewster about it and he shook his head.
    “Lot of folks panicked when the world went dark. Those with families elsewhere or over the wall took off to try and be with them or get to them. Suffice it to say that we’ve never had one come back. Ever,” he said.
    The homes gave way to rows of businesses, and I could see several that were the result of people taking over where the old one left off. I really didn’t think in the old world that there was a store that sold clothing and animal feed supplies in the same place. I wondered how they did commerce here and asked Mack about it.
    “Mostly it’s trade, although we do have a few coins here and there. The stuff from before the fall is mostly useless, but the older coins, anything before 1964 were nearly all silver, so they have some value. Some people have some gold and silver coins they use, but most people just trade. Either goods or services.” Brewster shifted in the saddle. “Things are actually approaching normal.”
    “Is that a bad thing?” I asked.
    “Just this, son. Every time I think things will be just fine, the world tends to collapse inward. And usually, I wind up picking up the pieces,” Mack said.
    “You could just move on,” I said.
    “Not that easy, son. Someday you’ll see.”
    “Maybe.”
    We reached a large house just off a winding brick road. The homes were very large around here, mostly of a Victorian style. I’d seen the type in a lot of small towns that were well off the beaten path. Mostly farm towns that had a few people still living in them, but chances were pretty good they were the same way before the Trippers began their long march across the state.
    As I walked up the path towards the building, all thoughts of Trippers and towns and damn near everything else flew out of my head. Sitting on a swing on the porch was a girl. She was about my age,