Day One Hundred Twenty Five:
I suggested to Josh that considering our current circumstances, it might make sense to head back to Victor and the safety of the Keys. He looked like he wanted to kill me but eventually was able to swallow his rage and say, 'If we go back, we killed AJ for nothing. Nothing at all". And then he walked as far away from me as he could get in this house.
He is right of course, and I was hoping he would say that but... I couldn't live with myself if something happened to us after all we've been through and his last words were, "I wanted to go back home" or something like that. So now that we are of one mind, it is about time to get this miserable show on the road.
Wish us luck whomever you are.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty Four:
Day One Hundred Twenty Four:
The bad news, they're still out there.
The good news, they still don't know we're here.
The more bad news, everyday we sit here I become more and more antsy to go fight the ones that are left.
I hate them. Even though they used to be us, I hate them more than I have ever hated anything in my entire life. This seems obvious, but previous to losing AJ I wasn't consumed by this hatred. I didn't like them, sure. But I never really had much in the way of family. So at first it was scary, but it was sort of like being around a stray pack of dogs. I don't hate the dogs, I just acknowledge they are hungry and avoid them.
But now. Now I want to kill them all. I know it isn't possible. I know if I went out there more would show up. And I know that any rash move I make would just probably result in myself and Josh being killed.
But that doesn't change what I feel.
The bad news, they're still out there.
The good news, they still don't know we're here.
The more bad news, everyday we sit here I become more and more antsy to go fight the ones that are left.
I hate them. Even though they used to be us, I hate them more than I have ever hated anything in my entire life. This seems obvious, but previous to losing AJ I wasn't consumed by this hatred. I didn't like them, sure. But I never really had much in the way of family. So at first it was scary, but it was sort of like being around a stray pack of dogs. I don't hate the dogs, I just acknowledge they are hungry and avoid them.
But now. Now I want to kill them all. I know it isn't possible. I know if I went out there more would show up. And I know that any rash move I make would just probably result in myself and Josh being killed.
But that doesn't change what I feel.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty Three:
Day One Hundred Twenty Three:
Josh is alive. I wish I could add exclamation points and
smiley faces and whatever other emoticons and bullshit we used to use to feign
happiness with in the old world but… I am also now certain AJ is dead. And as
much as I like Josh, as much as I am thrilled that he is ok... AJ had been with
me since the beginning. He had become my best friend and was the only other
person that I knew who appeared to be immune like me.
And now he is gone.
I plan to ask Josh about what happened immediately after the
blast but, for now the kid is resting and recovering. I can’t believe he
survived as long as he did. The fear, dehydration, starvation,
everything-vation must have been unbearable. But I got him, and sent about fifty
of them back to hell in the process.
Fifty down, infinity to go. Hooray. Smiley Face, Winky eye,
Hash Tag Fucked for life.
Right now we are hiding in a larger house that was set
behind the one Josh was on top of. This one had been boarded up pretty good so
as long as we don’t throw a party we should be ok. After my miniature war, we
made it here and as of right now there are a couple hundred more that showed up
to eat the dead bodies I served up for them. Hopefully, once they’re full
they’ll slither back to wherever nightmares like to spend their off time. In
the meantime, I found some canned food squirreled away in here and a little
water.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty Two:
Day One Hundred Twenty Two:
According to this map I am pretty sure we got attacked somewhere around the South East corner of Louisiana near the 445 and highway 12 intersection. I think if Josh and AJ survived, they would have probably ran up Firetower road and wound up in one of the houses around there. Currently I am roughly 3 miles away from where we got attacked. All that fucking work and I only made it three miles. Weird how walking aimlessly through the woods can feel like forever but then turn out to only be 3 worthless miles.
The next street up from Firetower road is Rambo road. No shit, look it up! Haha, I miss the days of Google Maps. Seriously though, Rambo road. And given my current temperament, these ex-hume bastards might regret deciding to attack us between Rambo and Firetower now that I intend to spend the rest of my more than likely incredibly short life slaughtering every last one of those fucks.
If you don't hear from me again please know that I went out with a fight. I don't want to die. I don't intend to die. But given the odds, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the final outcome. So my dear reader, if this is the end... I hope your tomorrow is brighter than mine have been.
According to this map I am pretty sure we got attacked somewhere around the South East corner of Louisiana near the 445 and highway 12 intersection. I think if Josh and AJ survived, they would have probably ran up Firetower road and wound up in one of the houses around there. Currently I am roughly 3 miles away from where we got attacked. All that fucking work and I only made it three miles. Weird how walking aimlessly through the woods can feel like forever but then turn out to only be 3 worthless miles.
The next street up from Firetower road is Rambo road. No shit, look it up! Haha, I miss the days of Google Maps. Seriously though, Rambo road. And given my current temperament, these ex-hume bastards might regret deciding to attack us between Rambo and Firetower now that I intend to spend the rest of my more than likely incredibly short life slaughtering every last one of those fucks.
If you don't hear from me again please know that I went out with a fight. I don't want to die. I don't intend to die. But given the odds, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the final outcome. So my dear reader, if this is the end... I hope your tomorrow is brighter than mine have been.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty One:
Day One Hundred Twenty One:
There was a time when I would have said that sleeping in a car was the worst night's rest I have ever got. Compared to sleeping in a cold concrete drainage tube though, sleeping in a car was like staying at the Ritz Carlton with my own fleet of butlers and maids and whatever else rich people enjoyed before the world came unhinged.
When I woke up the my head felt a little more clear and my body was a little less weary and that combined with a little bit of luck result in me finding a nice tire iron in the side panel in the back of the car. I thought I had checked pretty good but apparently I was wrong.
So now I am sitting inside a little house that for once doesn't contain the mummified remains of whomever was living here previous to me. Sort of weird that they would barricade themselves in only to leave in the end. Oh well, I will just add that to the never ending pile in my mind titled "Eternal Unsolved Mysteries".
Most of the food in the cabinets turned to gross a long time ago but some of the canned stuff still seemed safe. That, plus a map of the local area and suddenly I started to feel like maybe my luck was changing. Then I remembered that my friends were dead and my life has absolutely no meaning and now I am going to end this little entry wishing I had found a bottle of alcohol and some Prozac instead of some food and a map. What a world.
There was a time when I would have said that sleeping in a car was the worst night's rest I have ever got. Compared to sleeping in a cold concrete drainage tube though, sleeping in a car was like staying at the Ritz Carlton with my own fleet of butlers and maids and whatever else rich people enjoyed before the world came unhinged.
When I woke up the my head felt a little more clear and my body was a little less weary and that combined with a little bit of luck result in me finding a nice tire iron in the side panel in the back of the car. I thought I had checked pretty good but apparently I was wrong.
So now I am sitting inside a little house that for once doesn't contain the mummified remains of whomever was living here previous to me. Sort of weird that they would barricade themselves in only to leave in the end. Oh well, I will just add that to the never ending pile in my mind titled "Eternal Unsolved Mysteries".
Most of the food in the cabinets turned to gross a long time ago but some of the canned stuff still seemed safe. That, plus a map of the local area and suddenly I started to feel like maybe my luck was changing. Then I remembered that my friends were dead and my life has absolutely no meaning and now I am going to end this little entry wishing I had found a bottle of alcohol and some Prozac instead of some food and a map. What a world.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Day One Hundred Twenty:
Day One Hundred Twenty:
After walking/running/skulking all day yesterday, I came across a house today. Nothing special, probably just someone's hunting cabin but any shelter = no wind at night = the first good thing to happen to me in a while.
The problem though was that the door was barricaded shut. Which wouldn't have been that much of a problem but, the windows were also barricaded shut. When I walked around the back to see if I could find a way in I found a car with no keys and unlike every other survivor in the history of an abandoned world... I still don't know how to hotwire a car so who knows if it still ran or not.
Anyway, the back was zipped up as tight as the front. Might have been able to open up one of the windows with a heavy rock or a few shots from my one of my guns but... doesn't make much sense to spend all that time sneaking through the woods just so that I could fire up a flare and lay myself out on a dinner table for those bastards that were still probably tracking me.
So I got up on the roof and checked the chimney. But with my luck I would have wound up getting stuck in a stupid chimney and slowly starving or choking to death. So after much deliberation I gave up operation Santa Claus and went back to trying to find a real way into the house.
After several hours of failure I wound up sleeping in the car. I suck.
After walking/running/skulking all day yesterday, I came across a house today. Nothing special, probably just someone's hunting cabin but any shelter = no wind at night = the first good thing to happen to me in a while.
The problem though was that the door was barricaded shut. Which wouldn't have been that much of a problem but, the windows were also barricaded shut. When I walked around the back to see if I could find a way in I found a car with no keys and unlike every other survivor in the history of an abandoned world... I still don't know how to hotwire a car so who knows if it still ran or not.
Anyway, the back was zipped up as tight as the front. Might have been able to open up one of the windows with a heavy rock or a few shots from my one of my guns but... doesn't make much sense to spend all that time sneaking through the woods just so that I could fire up a flare and lay myself out on a dinner table for those bastards that were still probably tracking me.
So I got up on the roof and checked the chimney. But with my luck I would have wound up getting stuck in a stupid chimney and slowly starving or choking to death. So after much deliberation I gave up operation Santa Claus and went back to trying to find a real way into the house.
After several hours of failure I wound up sleeping in the car. I suck.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Day One Hundred Nineteen:
Day One Hundred Nineteen:
The thing about situations like this is the person telling the story rarely has any real life problems. So you know the person is scared, and running for their life. And you know that they are formulating plans and moving forward towards some goal.
But what you rarely see, what is almost never portrayed is the absolute fucking misery of being stuck in the wilderness if you aren't some type of military trained survivalist. Actually no, I take that back. Because even if you are some type of John Rambo survivalist it is still probably miserable, just maybe a little less so.
Like going to the bathroom. I know, I should be focusing on the fact that something might come out of the woods and devour me but I can't spend 24 hours a day being afraid. So now that I am taking a break to write this I want to talk about going to the bathroom.
Not only is it just awkward to squat down in the woods, but do you know what it feels like to be squatted down with your pants around your ankles and then a squirrel breaks a branch somewhere behind you? It feels like the end of the world. Because in your mind, that isn't a squirrel. In your mind, that is death itself frothing at the mouth with drool running down its chin. So you turn, mid excretion and fall over.
So now, not only are you alone, lost, tired, miserable, and depressed... but you have shit on yourself. And if there is one thing that destroys any last shred of morale you might have... it is shit. If it wasn't for my strange desire to continue writing in this journal I probably would have shot myself immediately after that happened.
Fortunately I can change into some other clothes since I have some in my backpack except, oh wait... no I don't. On the plus side, if I do get eaten at least I won't be tasty.
The thing about situations like this is the person telling the story rarely has any real life problems. So you know the person is scared, and running for their life. And you know that they are formulating plans and moving forward towards some goal.
But what you rarely see, what is almost never portrayed is the absolute fucking misery of being stuck in the wilderness if you aren't some type of military trained survivalist. Actually no, I take that back. Because even if you are some type of John Rambo survivalist it is still probably miserable, just maybe a little less so.
Like going to the bathroom. I know, I should be focusing on the fact that something might come out of the woods and devour me but I can't spend 24 hours a day being afraid. So now that I am taking a break to write this I want to talk about going to the bathroom.
Not only is it just awkward to squat down in the woods, but do you know what it feels like to be squatted down with your pants around your ankles and then a squirrel breaks a branch somewhere behind you? It feels like the end of the world. Because in your mind, that isn't a squirrel. In your mind, that is death itself frothing at the mouth with drool running down its chin. So you turn, mid excretion and fall over.
So now, not only are you alone, lost, tired, miserable, and depressed... but you have shit on yourself. And if there is one thing that destroys any last shred of morale you might have... it is shit. If it wasn't for my strange desire to continue writing in this journal I probably would have shot myself immediately after that happened.
Fortunately I can change into some other clothes since I have some in my backpack except, oh wait... no I don't. On the plus side, if I do get eaten at least I won't be tasty.
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