After the Republic Read Online Free PDF Page B

posted online this morning.
    “Who the heck is ‘AIS’?” Joshua wondered aloud. “Never heard of ‘em.”
    The newscast cut away to the video clip, which featured a seated terrorist in a black robe and balaclava mask flanked by two men in similar attire brandishing machine guns. One of the men also had a large sword. A flag featuring bold blue, green and white horizontal stripes and red Arabic lettering underscored by a black sword hung behind them.
    The seated terrorist’s voice was disguised. AIS conducted the attacks against the American infidels yesterday. This was just the beginning. The United States has bombed our countries for too long. Now it is your turn to know what it feels like to be attacked in the night, where you thought you were safe.
    Joshua leaned forward and clenched his fists. The terrorist continued: Now you will know what it feels like to see your women and children suffer and die. We will destroy your cities. We will destroy your government. We will wipe you from the earth. We will own your land. Your country will burn like the depths of hell. The United States will be no more.
    White-hot rage surged through every inch of Joshua’s being. He uttered a rare expletive.
    The newscast broke away from terrorist leader and the anchor continued. Ominous words. AIS is short for ‘American Islamic State.’ Sources tell us that this group gained inspiration from both Al Qaeda and ISIS. One intelligence analyst who wishes to remain anonymous describes AIS as a hybrid that has adopted the worst traits of both terror groups. Additionally, British intelligence sources tell us that AIS is methodical, organized and brutal, and that they are planning more attacks on American soil. The weapons used in yesterday’s attacks appear to have been suitcase nukes. No word yet on how they got the weapons into the U.S.
    Joshua wondered if the anchor was quoting British intelligence because there were no American intelligence sources left to quote. He clenched his teeth as the newscast cut away to clips of young men burning American flags and holding up pictures of mushroom clouds in street celebrations in middle-eastern cities.
    ***
    Reagan barked incessantly as Thomas’ white Suburban turned into the driveway. Thomas rang the doorbell, and then entered before Joshua or Rebecca could make it to the door. “How are y’all doing?”
    Thomas was a tall man, just over six feet, and had short, light brown hair. His tan baseball cap had seen better days and he wore faded jeans and beat-up brown work boots. Joshua envied his laid-back approach to life.
    Thomas handed Rebecca several BBQ sandwiches. “Leftovers.” A well-worn toothpick twisted between his teeth as he spoke.
    Reagan continued growling until he realized Thomas had food with him. Rebecca poured three glasses of tea and everyone wolfed down their sandwiches.
    After the meal Joshua looked at Rebecca. “This was excellent. Nobody cooks barbecue like Thomas.”
    “Thanks, man.” Thomas chugged his tea. “Given how many fish I helped you put in that new pond a few months ago I’m sure it’s overcrowded. My fishing poles are in the Suburban. Let’s kill two birds with one stone and talk out there.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” Joshua said. “Rebecca, we’ll be back in a bit.”
    Outside, they grabbed their fishing poles and Thomas pulled a bait bucket and roll of papers out of his Suburban. Reagan followed them to benches near the edge of the pond as the sun faded into darkness.
    After they dropped their baited hooks into the water Thomas unrolled a sheet of paper and handed Joshua a flashlight. The light illuminated a map of the Great Smoky Mountains in Western North Carolina, near the Tennessee border.
    “Man, you know how I’ve always said I would like to move out to the mountains?” Thomas asked.
    “Yes, but I was never sure if you were serious about it,” Joshua answered.
    “Well, last year I started getting serious about it. You remember that