Government has Seceded

A Story by AndrewDawg

Thomas and James strive to survive the harsh environment of an apocalyptic era.

When it was first heard of, no one really believed the government actually seceded. But not just American government, all over the world. Essentially a purge. Everyone has questions about why this happened, and there are, and will always be conspiracies until government says something. The people of the world are trying their best to have their own government set up, but it has never worked. There are settlements spread all over the globe, some trapped, but others people friendly, that have their own rules, but there will always be.... dangerous people. Bandits, bounty hunters, and then some. Tom was not one of these people.

Roughly a year ago, when Tom was 24, he was doing his best with his parents. He was an only child, so it ended up with just Tom, his father, and his mother. When he heard about this apocalypse, he went straight to them, to make sure they were okay. They did their best, but the emotional part of the government essentially falling out was always getting in the way of trying to survive it.

Within about 6 months, his mother died of sickness, and not even a week later, his dad ran away during the night, when Tom was asleep. This sudden change certainly got to him, and he wasn't functioning properly. He wouldn't eat as much as he should, he started making more mistakes on certain things he would otherwise be nearly professional with.

But 6 months later, he was pretty much recovered. But he still had terrible dreams about his mother and father. It affected his performance, yet he pushed through.

"THOMAS!!" Of course had to be the first thing Tom woke up to. It was his friend James, calling from the creek, fairly close to their make shift cabin. They didn't know what state they were in, but it snowed in the winter, and got dry and hot in the summer.

"HELP ME!!" Tom immediately got up, grabbed his .357 revolver, and ran out of the cabin. The revolver had only 3 rounds in it, and they never needed to use it.

He ran down to the creek and James was nowhere to be seen. "James!" He called, and heard no response. He looked down the creek, left and right. Still nothing.

Tom heard a branch break above him, and instantly his entire body covered itself with goosebumps. Something heavy dropped down behind him, followed with a loud 'boo' and Tom quickly turned around and c**k the gun, holding it to James's head.

"Whoa, dude chill out." James said. Tom lowered the gun and uncocked it, and his eyes kept locked on James.

"I thought you were dead." Said Tom.

"Well I'm fine. I'm sorry, I didn't expect that reaction of you."

They started walking back to the cabin, in silence.

"You know, it's October. That's why I did that." James said, trying to lighten spirits.

"What's you jumping down and almost causing me to shoot you have to do with October?" Tom responded in aggravation.

"Halloween." Said James, and play punched Tom's arm. "You know you don't have to be so serious all the time. I know it's the apocalypse and everything, but we can at least have fun times."

"I 'spose. I'm just trying to be cautious. With bandits and all." Tom had responded.

"But we haven't seen any bandits. We haven't seen anyone really."

"That's because we haven't gone anywhere. We've had steady resources where we are now. But soon we are going to have to go out. You said October is here, that means so is the fall air. It's gotten about 2 degrees cooler, I reckon."

It was silent until they got back to the cabin.

"Thomas, have you killed anyone?" James asked, with curiosity. Tom looked at him for a while, then shook his head and walked out.

But he really has taken someone's life before. One time. It was roughly 6:30, so it was time to eat dinner. It was before his mother had gotten sick. They walked out of their camp house, and saw an odd looking man dropping clear liquid into what would be his Mother's soup. They thought nothing of it. That's what people do sometimes. They put droplets of water into a food or drink, when from another point of view could look like a dangerous poison, so that the food owners would either throw it out, or not eat it, so over night the person that puts in the fake poison can swoop in and take the food for themselves. Genius, but dangerous. You get a paranoid man and he blows you with a shotgun. Anyways, Tom's mother continued to eat the soup. There was no color, smell, or taste that stuck out, so it seemed safe. But nearly days later she got sick and passed. Days later when Thomas went hunting he found a camp and went to check it out. He realized it was the same man who put the poison into his mothers dinner. The man was asleep, so he walked in to the makeshift house and walked over to the man on the floor. He got down on his knees, of which were close to the mans head. Tom pulled out his hunting knife and put it to the man's neck. He opened his eyes, and had no emotion or response to it. A tear dropped from Tom's eye down onto the man's cheek. Then he stabbed the man's neck, taking his life. The following morning he was curious and went back to the camp. Oddly enough, the body was gone. There were cannibals in the area, so he assumed that was what happened. Cannibals were one of the contributing factors to Tom leaving his camp and move about 50 miles away from there. He stuck to forests so he didn't come across any people.

When fall was quickly nearing, they decided to head into towns and try to scavenge clothes for the cold winter coming. It snowed where they were, so they had mind as well start getting ready. If they couldn't find clothes, they'd get cloth and attempt to patch it together to make thick clothing to prevent any cold air seeping in.

Though when they entered a gas station, they heard steps.

"Who goes there?!" A deep, almost scary voice called from behind the counter. Tom and James were hidden behind an empty shelf.

"I know you're out there, now show yourself!" A metal clink sound was heard, that resembled the sound of a gun.

The steps got closer to them, so they quickly tried escaping through a broken window. They ran quickly to the other side of the street. They tried staying quiet, but they were not quiet enough. Behind them, 2 shots were fired. They seemed like warning shots since none were even close to neither Tom or James.

Once they got to the other side of the road, they went into a supermarket. The market was empty. Shelves cleared, counter clutter-less. There was nothing. It reminded both of them of how crazy people can get with no government.

Thirty or so minutes of complete silence later, they checked to see if the man was still there. He was nowhere in sight, so they decided to walk home. It was getting late and it seemed like they had enough clothing and cloths.

It was about an hour walk, and for most of the time they remained silent so they weren't heard and shot at again.

They got back to their camp and nothing was moved or missing. Always a good sight. Tom started the fire back up and opened some canned food containers and poured them into a metal bucket. They made their own fire spit to hang the bucket over the fire. Soon, the food was cooked. It was warm, and tasted mighty good.

"This is great, Tom. What is it?" James had asked with his mouth full.

"Frankly, I don't know. Label was taken off. But it was sealed so it's safe to eat."

What sounded off in the distance, was a howl from a wolf. Then a few more followed it in different sections of the woods. It was creepy at night. Especially with the thought of someone could be watching you while you chow down on supper, and you wouldn't know.

James stopped eating for a second to listen to the wolves howling to each other.

"Do you think we'll ever have to deal with those wolves? We always seem to be in the middle of their calls and-"

"Hush, James." Tom whispered quickly. James looked around in confusion, but was a little scared.

"Look. Over there, on the other side of the creek." Tom pointed. A wolf. It was looking dead at them.

"Tom what do we do?" James whispered, setting his bowl of soup down.

"Sh. Just wait." Tom replied, not moving an inch. The wolf put its head down to the creek, got a few tongue fulls of water, without taking it eyes of Tom and James, then ran off into the darkness of the woods.

"To answer your question, James, we probably will. I reckon we'll have to deal with their curiosity more than anything. James do not attack them if you end up alone, unless you feel they will attack you first. Try to keep your distance. We'd better not get any tension between those guys if we wanna live in their forest."

They continued eating their dinner, until their bowls were dry.

"So Tom, what do we do?" Asked James.

"What's wrong? You bored or something?"

"No I.. I mean with this.. apocalypse. How are we supposed to get through this? We'll have to move sometime before people discover us. Especially bandits."

"Bandits shouldn't be the only thing you are worried about." Said Tom, sitting by the fire.

"What do you mean? Wild animals or something?" James asked, smiling slightly.

Tom looked at James dead in the eyes with a straight face. "No," he said, "Way worse than that. There are these.. gangs if you will." Tom turned his head and looking into the fire. "Some are good, but others are bad. Very bad. Scary people. Cannibal groups, things like that."

"Thomas, you said some are good." Said James. "Which ones are the good ones?"

"Well," Tom started, raising his eyebrows. "The red berets are good people. They sort of fish out the bad groups."

"Who are the red berets?" James asked, sitting down next to Tom by the fire.

"Well they are essentially a military spin-off. The people who were in, any branch of the military really, got together with their army friends and combined to make a force with hundreds of people. I believe they'd be nearing a thousand right about now. They shared ideas about where locations of weapons are ammunition were, and they've pretty much got a military back up and running again. Provides a bit of hope for bringing the world back together. Every now and then if you see a helicopter or something of that matter fly over, it's probably them."

"Tom why are they called the red berets?" James asked smiling.

"Well, they all do have red berets. I mean some don't wear theirs, but most do, and that's how they got their name." Tom responded.

"Cool.. cool." James responded.

James kicked his feet up onto a rock and pulled out a magazine from his bag.

"Where'd you get that?" Asked Tom.

"I found it in the gas station. There were a few, but this one talks about guns so I found it the most interesting. Want to read one? I've got one about the Kardashians."

They both chuckled slightly, and Tom pulled out his knife and began sharpening it with a sharp rock.

After a few minutes of silence from everything but the fire, Tom said "We had better get to bed. It's getting late." James agreed and they both went into the cabin and locked the door shut.

With in moments, they were fast asleep.

A month or two had gone by. It had begun to snow. The air cold and dry, different wild life, and it really was quite beautiful. Since Tom and James lived out in the middle of nowhere, seeing people was rare, and when they did see people, they were usually just passing through. They truly realized how alone they were when they see the snow on the ground everywhere hadn't been touched by humans, only animals.

Tom was walking with James down the creek, Tom with a hunting rifle he managed to find in an old house he found. Extra ammo for it wasn't too far from the gun. A Browning A-Bolt. Bolt action. It had a strap that allowed Tom to carry it on his back. It had a decent scope, a little dusty, but you can still see through it.

"Tom, you reckon this creek will freeze over?" Asked James.

"I 'spose it could, but if it does, and we need the water, we could always chip away some of the ice and melt it slowly by the fire. It's hard though, since it may evaporate."

The creek wasn't very deep, 2 feet was as deep as it got, but about a half mile down, it gets to about waste or head level of Tom.

"Oh- Tom, stop." James stopped in his tracks, and put his arm against Tom's chest, stopping him.

"What? What's got you?" Tom asked, whispering, slightly frightened.

James pointed down the creek, and off in the distance their was an animal.. A big one.

"Buck." Said Tom. "Try not too move too fast. These buggers can hear, see, and smell extremely well."

"Okay, got it." Responded James, as he slowly took of his backpack and set it on a rock.

They got down to their knees, and Tom grabbed the rifle from his back.

Tom aimed down the scope.

"I don't know how zeroed this scope is. Let's just hope it goes well."

"It better be zeroed, or else we won't be having our dinner tonight." James said, almost agitated.

He pulled the bolt back, and dropped it forward, loading in a bullet.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Tom put his finger to the trigger, sat a few seconds to aim, and fired.

The shot missed, scaring off the large buck.

"D****t." Tom whispered to himself.

"What now?" James said, hopelessly.

"What do you think we were at? About 100 yards?" Tom asked, getting up and adjusting the scope.

"I could guess so, I'm not one for seeing distance. Weren't you a boy scout? I thought you guys did that type of stuff."

"Yeah, we did. We also ran. You ready to run?" Asked Tom quickly walking towards where the Buck ran.

"Oh don't tell me, we're running towards the thing?" James asked, with a pinch of laziness to his voice. He picked his pack back up and walked over to where Tom was.

"Alright, let's go." Said Tom beginning to quickly run almost sprint.

They came up to where they saw the buck last, but kept running. They eventually got to a large tree and sat until they saw the buck again.

Minutes went by and still nothing.

"Wait, Tom, I think I saw something." What sounded like a faint and distant step in some leaves rang in Tom's ear.

"Hear that?" Asked Tom. They looked around.

"Sure did." James Whispered back.

Then there it was, the buck from before. Sitting, motionless.

"Tom, aim and shoot quick." Said James quietly but swiftly.

Tom adjusted the scope as best he could, then aimed down the scope. He took a deep breath, pulled the bolt back, then forward. One more deep breath then..

BANG!

And the buck fell quickly to the ground.

"Wow. Nice shot, Tom." Said James, and gently hit Tom on the back, and smiled.

Goosebumps rain quickly up his neck, and he gulped.

"That wasn't me." Tom responded slowly. Steps in the snow were heard behind them.

"Oi, boys!" A strange man said. He had long-ish hair and a cowboy hat.

"HEY!" Shouted Tom and held the rifle to the man.

"Easy there fella', I ain't lookin' for no trouble. Name's Scott. Scott Beckett."

He had a friendly smile, though Tom and James were a little anxious. Tom put the gun back on his back.

Scott held out his hand. "Pleasure t'meet ya." His accent gave away that he knew the outside world and came prepared to this apocalypse.

"Yeah, sure." Tom said, and shook hands with Scott, so did James.

"Mighty interesting find you have here. Reckon we could share the prize?" He smiled, and put his gun on his back as well.

"Fine. But you'd better leave first thing tomorrow." Said Tom.

"Maybe he isn't too bad, Tom." Said James. "He shot the buck before he shot us. He could've put us down real quick. We had no idea he was there.

"I guess you're right. But what if he pulls a fast one on us and mugs us while we're asleep and this whole thing is just a set up?" Said Tom.

Scott raised his eyebrows and looked around while they went back and forth. While Tom and James argued as quietly as they could, Scott could still clearly hear the two. He waited patiently until they stopped and came to a compromise

"It's getting late," said Tom, sighing. "I'll take you back to our camp, but don't try to pull any s**t. I'll be watching."

They walked back with the buck and by the time they got back to the cabin, it was dark. Tom watched Scott as he skinned the buck. They put the meat into a metal cooler they found. It was metal so it kept relatively cold.

The three of them sat by the fire, after dinner was over.

Scott decided to break the silence.

"I do apologize for how we met. I heard your first shot, came to see the ruckus and saw you missed. I sat up in a tree behind you fellas. Saw the buck and dropped down. Nearly hurt myself pretty bad."

"So that's what that leaf sound was. And the reason the buck was so alert." James pointed out.

"Probably was." Responded Scott.

They sat laying there, keeping warm by the fire.

"You know I'm kind of used to this kind of stuff. Huntin', survivin' in the wilderness."

"Yeah it's freezing. Can hardly handle this." Said James.

"Your cheeks are red, s'well as your nose. You'd better get some face gear. Bandanna and sunglasses during the day at least." Said Scott, trying to help.

"How come you don't? All you wear is a hat." Said Tom.

"That's cause a hat's all's I need. Sunglasses as well, but I don't wear em' often. Like I said, I'm accustomed to this. I've always been one with the wilderness, the cold. S'matter of fact, had a real close encounter with nature."

Scott pulled his right leg pant up, revealing a scar at least 10 inches long.

"A wolf. Got me whilst I was still crawlin' away luckily, my brother wielded a shotgun. Got im' in the side. Not enough to kill him, but enough to blow im' off me." Scott said and pulled his pant leg down.

"A man full of stories, huh?" Said Tom, smirking slightly. Tom and James started getting more comfortable with the almost complete stranger.

"You boys should get some Z's in." Said Scott.

"What about you?" Asked James, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Naw, I'll be fine. I'll keep watch. You may think you live in the middle of nowhere, but I heard your shot from my camp." Responded Scott.

"Okay, but please, don't-"

"I promise I won't do anything." Said Scott, cutting off Tom.

"Alright. Goodnight then." Said Tom. James, already inside.

Still Tom lay on his little makeshift bed, thinking about the day. Scott was an interesting fellow. Had nothing on him but his gun and hat. Didn't bring anything else. Was he really living that close and they never knew it? Odd. But possible. The direction he said he came from, James and Tom never ventured to. Why was he staying up? If he was so worried about Tom and James, why doesn't he care for himself? He said he was used to that kind of stuff, but the thought still lingered in Tom's head. Then, eventually, he dozed off.

What felt like merely a few minutes later, James was shaking Tom to wake up.

"Tom get up," he said, "Scott's gone. I looked around the camp but he isn't anywhere to be seen. I woke up in the middle of the night to him tending to the fire, so I doubt he is trying to run away."

Tom rubbed his eyes and checked his watch. 7AM. Right about when the sun was rising, but it wasn't quite visible. Just enough for the land to be lit up.

"Alright now hold on, let me get up. He take anything?"

"No. Nothing that I saw." James responded looking around.

"Alright, well I 'spose we may just have to deal with out him. Not like he contributed to much."

"Well actually, he did a little. I noticed the meat from the buck was down in the creek, but still in the cooler. It was frozen into the ice. I'm gonna guess and say it makes it colder, and acts sort of like a freezer. Some of the snow around here is also shoveled out. Lots more free space to do stuff."

Tom got up and looked where Scott had left his gun from the day before, and it was gone.

"Check for steps in the snow?" Asked Tom.

James rubbed his neck. "Uh, no. It snowed last night and this morning, and it is a little now. I don't think any steps made in the last hour and beyond would still be here. Unless maybe under a tree or something."

"Hm. I don't know, James. Seems like he left." Said Tom. "We've gotta go out sometime. Thinking tomorrow or the next day. We need to get prepped for that. Let's not worry too much about Scott. He'll do fine. He's got the accent and the hat." Tom said smirking a little. Jokes like that keep spirits up in times like apocalypse.

Months passed..

Tom got up, exhausted and dehydrated. After about a minute or two of sitting and staring at the ceiling, he made the executive decision to get up, and walked out the front door. It was bright.

"Good morning Thomas. Hey uh, Thomas?"

"Yeah?" He replied.

"You ever realize the uh.. snow never went away?"

He looked around and raised his eyebrows. "Yep. Say you got any water?"

"Nah I ran out this morning.. you?"

"Three days ago. We'll have to go to town." Thomas replied.

There was a silence, then James sprung up. "What about the snow?"

"Actually.. I suppose that could work but we'd have to set up a system. In order to efficiently collect it, we'll have to get as much as possible. Every drop. We could put some in a pot and heat it up, but it evaporates.. we could put plastic or something over it.. it can be done, but we still need to go into town."

"You mean the same one we've been going to for months? It's gotta be cleared by now." James said, with his arms out.

"Yeah, I know that. Maybe we'll go west. West is best right?" Tom said, smiling. "We need a car.. or a truck. A truck would be nice. A 71' ford pickup. Imagine that, huh? Cruising the trails with an old truck?"

A delayed response by James, "Yeah. Sure."

Soon they were geared up. Thomas had a backpack, and the hunting rifle, barrel pointed up, next to it.

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Featured Review

M.R Steiner

an interesting start, it kinda reads like a little diary, more tell than show, but for a 1st draft its more than enough to work with :) the explanation of the setting was a bit telly for my taste, I wanted to read more about the incident that James was calling Tom to, that's when the story started to get interesting, I hope you add more soon.

in respects to the incident, maybe allude to what brought it about. economics, war, disease or all of them, maybe show Tom getting little glimpses of it, off to a good start either way.

just my amateur opinion btw, take it with a pinch of salt, I'm still learning myself