Out of the Ashes

By late August, everyone who was coming in ... was in. The three-state area looked like the world's largest supply dump—and probably was. Entire towns had been stripped bare. Every ounce of precious metal and every chip of precious gem had been carefully searched for and taken. Billions of dollars of gold, silver, and precious stones were now under guard in Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana. With these Ben planned to back his new currency.

Many people, even after almost a year had passed, still did not fully understand what had happened. If there had been a war, they asked—who won?

How does one tell another that nobody won—everybody lost.

When the breakaway units of the military began arriving, they were met by a few people who had survived, wary people.

“Is the military coming in?” a woman asked. “Dear God, we need help in the worst way.”

“Sort of,” a SEAL told her. “Don't worry—we'll help you.

“Looks like you're coming in to stay,” she observed, taking in the growing mounds of equipment and supplies.

“Yes, ma'am. We sure are.”

“Then you'd better know that a gang of outlaws and thugs say they control this area. They've been stealing and killing and raping for months. They took our weapons and disabled our vehicles.”

“Where are they hiding, ma'am?”

“They aren't hiding. They took over the town of Challis.”

“Holding any prisoners, ma'am? Any innocent folks?”

She shook her head.

The SEAL smiled.

He and his team were back the following afternoon. He told the lady, “You don't have to worry about them anymore, ma'am. They won't be back.”

“Will they be tried?” she asked, looking around for prisoners. She saw none.

“They've been tried, ma'am.”

The few survivors in each state were in almost total confusion due to lack of organization, something nearly all governments discourage. For local militias, except those under government control, cannot be established in the United States, not for over a hundred years. For, as had been pointed out, most governments, certainly including the government of the United States, are based on fear; fear of the central power, fear of the IRS, fear of the FCC, fear of the FBI, fear of the ICC, fear of the state police, fear of the local police, fear of everything. That is the only way a massive government can work. If the people were armed and organized, and of one mind, they just might start hanging rapists, murderers, armed robbers, burglars, and others of that slimy ilk—those they didn't shoot from the outset, that is.

And the people (who, so the myth reads, comprise the government, and are supposed to tell government what they want, and the government is then supposed to do it) would truly be in control. Government doesn't like to even think about that happening. Scary.

The young people from the colleges Ben had visited rolled in and looked around. They were wary, for they believed the adults had caused the original mess (which was true), and they weren't too certain this new state would be any better. But they decided to give it a try.

Jerre saw Ben, at first from a distance, and for a time kept her distance as she realized the woman with Ben was more than just a friend. Then she worked up enough courage to speak to him.

“Hi, Ben.”

Ben turned from his work and let a smile play across his face. He was aware of Salina watching intently. He took Jerre's outstretched hand, held it for a moment, then released it.

“You're looking good, Jerre. I was worried about you, wondering if you made it.”

She nodded, as emotions flooded her. She wondered if those same emotions were flooding Ben. They were, but not to the extent they filled her. “This is Matt.” She introduced the beefy young man beside her.

Ben shook the offered hand. “I'm glad you two could join us up here. There's a lot of work to do. Going to live here in Idaho?”

Jerre shook her head. “No, Ben. We thought we'd try it over in Wyoming. Maybe go back to school in our spare time.”

“That's a good idea. We'll have the colleges open in a few months.”

There seemed to be nothing left for them to say; at least that they could say.

“See you, Ben.” Jerre smiled.

Ben nodded, watching the young couple walk away. Matt hesitated, then put his arm around Jerre's shoulders in a protective way; a possessive way. Ben had to smile at the gesture.

“That your young friend, Ben?” Salina asked.

“That was her.”

“Just friends, huh?”

“Sure—what else?”

“Uh-huh.” She smiled.

Ike and Megan had brought about a thousand people with them, people the glib ex-SEAL had picked up along the way. “Just folks,” he called them.

“What are you going to call your new state, Ben?” Megan asked.

“Mine?” Ben said, surprised. “This is not mine. Call it Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming. What else?”

“Who is the governor?” Tatter asked. “The leader—the man in charge?”

“There isn't any,” Ben replied.

“Well, then, Ben Raines...” She smiled. “I guess we'll have to have us an election.”

“Just don't nominate me. I'm a writer, got a lot to do. I'm not a politician.”

And Ben could not understand why everyone smiled.