MoonFall Read Free Page B

But Dumpsville held real promise, as much as anything made by people could.
    It probably had a proper name once, something sweet and homey to fit its cozy, secluded setting. Cherry Wood, maybe? Or Pastor Heights. Something that spoke of family values and the Appalachian country spirit. But the meteorite that had hit the road at the southern end of town had taken out whatever welcome sign had proudly declared its name, and so Noah filled the gap. He hated towns like Dumpsville – they reminded him too much of home.
    He skirted around the edge of the meteorite crater. It had been there a while, long enough for a whole range of plants to sprout up in the rubble, including clusters of those purple mushrooms and even some small trees. Which probably meant no-one had been around for a long time either, otherwise they would have done something to repair the road. Maybe the inhabitants had evacuated in the early days, headed to somewhere more secure and populous, and never returned. Maybe they’d taken the meteorite as a sign from the heavens and pulled up stakes to move on – all it took was one charismatic preacher and a couple of misfortunes to poison people’s judgment. Or maybe they’d just decided it wasn’t worth staying with the main road in ruins. Could be they were all dead now, or living on some Caribbean island like the characters in a pre-collapse holiday brochure. Whatever the case, Dumpsville seemed both deserted and largely untouched, the best sort of town.
    Noah walked Main Street, past squat houses with big yards and a couple of boxy shops. His heart leapt at the sight of a gun store, a grin splitting his face at the thought of such a place long left untouched. It only took a moment’s work to bust the lock and get inside.
    Once inside, his heart sank. The store had been thoroughly and neatly cleaned out. Not a gun on the walls, not a bullet on the shelves, just a pile of crumbling paper targets and a counter gray with years of dust. Whatever their motives, the townspeople had gone fully armed when they left. Even after pillaging through the backs of cupboards and in a store room behind the register, Noah came up empty handed. Finding ammunition was looking a whole heap less likely for Noah.
    “Sorry buddy.” He patted Bourne. “Guess you’re going hungry tonight.”
    “That’s ‘cause you’re in the wrong shop bro.”
    Noah spun around at the sound of the voice, Bourne out of his holster and pointed towards the stranger silhouetted in the doorway.
    “Whoa, chill!” The guy’s hands flew into the air and he took two careful steps back into the street. Daylight revealed a grin through his ragged blond beard despite having a gun trained on him. “No need for that. There’s a Walmart down the street, got more food than both of us can carry.”
    Noah cautiously lowered Bourne. He wasn’t in the mood for more people, and he liked surprises the same way a rodeo bull liked a rider on his back. But if this guy had meant him harm then he’d wasted his best opportunity, which made him friendly or stupid, and either way Noah could handle him.
    He slid Bourne back into his holster.
    “What’s your name?” Noah asked.
    “Paul.” The other guy lowered his hands, held one out in greeting. “Nice to meet you, bro.”

    Paul didn’t know the town’s name any more than Noah did, and he laughed heartily at the idea of Dumpsville . But then, Paul laughed heartily at most things.
    “You should save that one for New York bro.” Paul brushed a dollop of sauce from his faded letterman jacket and leaned back in his plastic chair, reaching to open another can of beans. “Place is a total wreck. There’s, like, old cars jamming up half the streets, skyscrapers with all the windows smashed out, all kinds of crazy shit. Capital of the world, take away the computers and it’s nothing but dead concrete. I mean seriously, it makes total sense man. What can you grow in New York, huh? Am I right?”
    His face