Post by theredshadow on May 25, 2012 22:08:31 GMT -6
This is a story I wrote it back in 1991 with some slight edits and a minor addition sometime around 1998 or '99.
Something To Live For[/i]
Nov. 3, 1991 9:35P.M.
I usually don't keep a diary or journal of any kind, but, due to my current situation, I’ve decided to write this one. You know, just in case someone in the future should come across this and want to read it. Anyway, I'm already starting to babble so let me begin. It has happened. You could call it the end of the world or the Great Disaster. Whatever it should be called, it seems to have wiped out a large percentage of the population, if not all of it, except for me, of course. It has also wiped out my emotional stability as well.
This morning I awoke, as I do every morning, to the fond sounds of an early November dawn. The few remaining birds a-chirping, the sun a-shining, a light breeze a-drifting. And to add to the pleasure, it was Saturday.
Remembering that my dad was out of town for the weekend, I got up with a stretch and a yawn and proceeded to the kitchen for the purpose of preparing myself breakfast. Cereal, if you were wondering. Anyway, I moved on to the living room with my bowl of Grape Nut Flakes and flipped on the television. Much to my chagrin, the screen displayed nothing but snow and static. I figured it was probably due to technical difficulties and that the station would come back in later. But soon I discovered that all the channels, even on cable, were all in the same condition. I thought it was weird but I soon dismissed it as mere technical difficulties a little more difficult than I thought, and I turned the TV off. I slurped down the last bit of milk in my bowl and basked in the silence.
Not much later, I jumped into my car to go into town. I was struck at how quiet it was. Even the birds seemed to be giving in to the ominous sound of no sound. It was also very warm since we were experiencing the warmest fall in the area's history of keeping track of the temperature. The fact that I couldn't hear cars on the nearby highway was odd, but the thought went in and then right back out of my head and I just shrugged in wonderment. I hit the street and continued to notice the lack of movement of anything, and the fact that there weren't any cars on the road with me. Well, at least there weren't any cars on the road that were driving. There were several that were stalled out, all of them heading out of town. I didn't notice any drivers in them and they all looked as if they had been sitting there for the night since their headlights were all on, shooting dim beams into the morning sunshine.
At one stoplight in town, I jumped out of my car and approached a vehicle, an old brown van, and looked inside of the open driver's side window. I was struck by an almost acidic smell so pungent I had to step back and dry my watering eyes. It was then that I noticed the slumping body lying on the front seat. I didn't want to believe what I already knew was true, but I had to check to see if the person was alive. I grabbed the person's shirt and tried to upright him. His head bobbed from side to side as his body lifted and then fell into the side of the door. His head came to an abrupt rest on the door and made a soft, squish sound. That was when I noticed the purple splotches and lumps on his skin, and that one of them had burst when his head hit the door. I ran to my car with my hand over my mouth and a huge lump in my throat. Needless to say, I got away from there as fast as I could. Driving just to concentrate on anything but what I had just seen, I kept the pedal on the floor and drove the city in a blind fit of fear, rage and confusion. Every street corner was another death site. Cars with people slowly cooking in the noontime sun and people roasting on the warm sidewalks. And all of them with the same pimply complexions, most having leaked out into large puddles around their heaped bodies. It pains me very much to have to recall those images to write about them now. I just can't bear to think what happened last night while I slept.
One odd note: animals of all kinds seem to have not been affected at all, or, at least they were not killed. None of the dogs or cats that I came across would come to me when I called them. Instead, they would cast a sarcastic gaze at my pitiful form, as if to say, "Come to you and have you pet us with your hand of death? Think you we crazy?!" Or maybe I am wondering too much about something that may not be very relevant at the moment.
Anyway, I meandered home at about five or six PM and, after an hour of crying and blubbering in a corner, I tried to eat some food. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my meal down because I would keep getting recurring images of those people and those purple lumps on their faces and hands and oh I'm afraid I'm going to be sick again...sorry...
I'm better now. That is what has happened today. It is nearing ten PM and I am somewhat exhausted from the day's discoveries and revelations. Maybe sleep is what I need. So I'll turn in now for a night I'm sure will be filled with nightmares and visions of doom for my head is in an awful state.
Nov. 4, 1991 2:15P.M.
This morning I arose only slightly refreshed, but at least my head was a little clearer. I had an amazing dream within the night during one of the small lapses of sleep I managed to fall into. It showed the city draped in a colossal darkness, yet I knew it was daytime. Out of the darkness came a silhouette with eyes like ice on fire. The image was about to speak when I, thankfully, awoke. But I can't help believing the dream was a sign, even a warning to leave town immediately. So I am. I'm leaving this burial ground o' the sinners as soon as I finish this entry.
I spent the day gathering some supplies into a brand new Jeep Wrangler I 'borrowed' from a local dealership. Gassed it up at an abandoned gas station (gas is cheaper these days, you know; it's practically free!) and toured the stores for food that wasn't spoiled or hadn't been pillaged by dogs, deer or rats. I packed some clothes (big 100% off sale going on right now!) and some gear for any problems I might encounter on my long trip. Games, first aid kits, chainsaw, tapes to play in the nice cassette player in the Jeep, a couple guns and plenty ammo, along with some other useless crap that just looked good so I grabbed it. I mean, I've got to have some stuff to keep me from getting on my nerves like I used to get on my parents nerves as we traveled when I was younger.
Now I'm going to burn rubber and pavement for the east! New York has captured my eye but I have no idea where my final destination will actually be. I better stop writing so I can get in some good mileage before dark. Going to miss you Montana.
Nov. 7, 1991 9A.M.
Been on the road for three days now. Been stopping every once in awhile at some little town along the way. I fill up on gas, grab extra food and supplies, and check to see if anyone is alive in the area. No luck yet, and I'm guessing that I be it. I guess I'm learning to deal with the loneliness, but it is tough.
Nov. 7, 1991 3:30P.M.
I downed a cake at a grocery store in a little town in southern Michigan today. You see, over the last few days I've gotten used to seeing the bloated, fly-covered bodies that have been strung across the nation just as they were at home. I even kind of expect to see them. I'm glad I'm getting used to it because it sure makes eating food a lot easier now.
Anyway, the cake was special because today is my birthday. The cake was covered in chocolate icing and candy sprinkles. In bright red icing were written the words, " Happy 4th Birthday Johnny!" I don't know Johnny but his cake was superb. But that wasn't the best of the deal. I met Sarah only minutes after I met Johnny's cake. With chocolate icing all over my face and hands (I seem to have forgotten all my manners since there is no one around to offend with bad manners anymore), she walked into the store and into my life.
I am convinced that Sarah is some sort of retribution for me, for all that I have been through the last couple of days. At least she has quieted those voices in my head that have been trying to get me to end it, to just kill myself and get it all over with once and for all. But as long as Sarah is here and with me, that isn’t going to happen. Let me tell you about her.
Sarah is about 5'10" with long legs and blonde hair. And not that bleached stuff, either. This is real, natural, born-with blonde. She has rosy cheeks, soft to the touch. Her complexion is clear and she has never worn makeup in her life. This is a wonderful change from what I've become used to over the last couple days, let me tell you. She smells like a mid-spring meadow at dawn, only better. She was so stunningly beautiful when I first saw her that I almost went headfirst into the remnants of Johnny's cake. Johnny wouldn't have liked that, I'm sure.
When she saw me in the store, she ran to me and embraced me with a fervent passion I had never known. And I thought I was lonely! She exclaimed, "I thought I was all alone! But I saw your Jeep drive into town so I ran after you and here you are and you're not all purple and runny and I can't believe it!" And we hugged again and cried together for a long while. All I wanted to do was hold her forever. I had fallen in love with her at first sight and time just seemed to fade away, an unimportant idea that had no say in things at the moment. For the first time in several days, dating back to even before the disaster, I felt whole again.
We talked for endless hours and the sun began to leave us in the store alone. Only a few lights in the store worked, but the light they cast upon us was like a beacon into our souls. I felt like we were back in the forests of Montana where I enjoyed going when I was younger. The aisles of the store were like the tall oaks and pines and the carpet like the hard ground and green grass of the mountain meadows I had hiked through as a boy, in a time so long ago. So long ago, that I could have sworn I had only read about it in an old, dusty book coming apart at the spine. Only now, new pages were being written as we spoke. A new story with no ending in sight and no time to think of one.
Sometime just before sunset, we left. We went to her house and she collected all of her belongings that wouldn't remind her too much of her past and the incident that had ended it. We drove off into the sunset with our eyes on the road and into the future. Well, actually we drove away from the sunset, but that's just not as romantic.
Nov. 9, 1991 10:45P.M.
Two days of bliss. Two days of unending happiness. Two days of totally unadulterated love and joy. Sarah is the greatest thing to happen to me in my whole life. I would and will do anything for her. I will never leave her side for any reason. And she feels the same for me. Yesterday, we decided that we were husband and wife since we don't have anyone to marry us nor do we have the power vested in us by the state of California or any other state to pronounce us as such. Needless to say, it has been a great couple of days.
Sarah's first days after this disaster were quite similar to mine so we have something in common, and many like stories to share. We both woke up to the same scene: no one alive but ourselves. All the animals in her town were ok, but they also seemed distant and nervous around her. Unfortunately, she discovered that her parents had both died. Her mother was apparently asleep, and I am glad she did not suffer. But, her father was out in the yard. Neither of us have been able to surmise why he was there, for garbage day was the day before this all happened. I asked Sarah if she wanted me to maybe do a little investigating for her, but she told me she had already buried her parents in the cemetery where her grandparents were laid to rest, so any evidence of what had happened to her father was with him now. We have both noticed how the questions surrounding this disaster keep compiling while the answers seem to be nonexistent. But, as long as we have each other, neither of us will let that fact get us down. I am almost sure that some answers will be found in New York, or in that general vicinity. Even though I have Sarah to think about, I almost always dream of an evil lurking behind us every night. An evil that is driving us towards the east, towards New York and something that will hopefully have answers. And, I hope to hell that there will be something there that can help us. Like maybe more survivors, that is my personal hope. Actual living human beings, alive and breathing, like it used to be. Being with Sarah is more than enough to keep me going, but I had always hoped to have the same kind of life that my Dad had wanted me to have. Get married, have a family, and always feel loved. I want normalcy and stability, and not the burden of having to start the human race all over again. Maybe I’m worrying too much, but Sarah and I could never really have that if we were the only two people on the planet. I hope that she wouldn’t feel offended if she knew how I felt.
Well, it is getting late. Sarah and I stopped here in this town in Illinois. We have been stopping in a lot of places because there have been plenty of signs of life along the way, but there has been no glimpse of who might be doing it. We worry a lot about looters and such coming out of nowhere and stealing our stuff, or worse, killing us. So, we try our best to stay inconspicuous, but at the same time, we also want to find any survivors and find out what is going on. We are currently in a hotel on the outskirts of Champaign, Illinois, and tomorrow were heading east through Indiana. We want to get an early start, because every single large city we come through has had a horrid smell from the dead rotting all over the place. We got lucky we found this hotel, which only had about five deceased people in it. The smell isn’t too bad in here, but its not as good as when we are on the road. So, I’m finishing up this entry now and going to bed. The road awaits us in the morning, and I don’t want to keep it waiting.
Something To Live For[/i]
Nov. 3, 1991 9:35P.M.
I usually don't keep a diary or journal of any kind, but, due to my current situation, I’ve decided to write this one. You know, just in case someone in the future should come across this and want to read it. Anyway, I'm already starting to babble so let me begin. It has happened. You could call it the end of the world or the Great Disaster. Whatever it should be called, it seems to have wiped out a large percentage of the population, if not all of it, except for me, of course. It has also wiped out my emotional stability as well.
This morning I awoke, as I do every morning, to the fond sounds of an early November dawn. The few remaining birds a-chirping, the sun a-shining, a light breeze a-drifting. And to add to the pleasure, it was Saturday.
Remembering that my dad was out of town for the weekend, I got up with a stretch and a yawn and proceeded to the kitchen for the purpose of preparing myself breakfast. Cereal, if you were wondering. Anyway, I moved on to the living room with my bowl of Grape Nut Flakes and flipped on the television. Much to my chagrin, the screen displayed nothing but snow and static. I figured it was probably due to technical difficulties and that the station would come back in later. But soon I discovered that all the channels, even on cable, were all in the same condition. I thought it was weird but I soon dismissed it as mere technical difficulties a little more difficult than I thought, and I turned the TV off. I slurped down the last bit of milk in my bowl and basked in the silence.
Not much later, I jumped into my car to go into town. I was struck at how quiet it was. Even the birds seemed to be giving in to the ominous sound of no sound. It was also very warm since we were experiencing the warmest fall in the area's history of keeping track of the temperature. The fact that I couldn't hear cars on the nearby highway was odd, but the thought went in and then right back out of my head and I just shrugged in wonderment. I hit the street and continued to notice the lack of movement of anything, and the fact that there weren't any cars on the road with me. Well, at least there weren't any cars on the road that were driving. There were several that were stalled out, all of them heading out of town. I didn't notice any drivers in them and they all looked as if they had been sitting there for the night since their headlights were all on, shooting dim beams into the morning sunshine.
At one stoplight in town, I jumped out of my car and approached a vehicle, an old brown van, and looked inside of the open driver's side window. I was struck by an almost acidic smell so pungent I had to step back and dry my watering eyes. It was then that I noticed the slumping body lying on the front seat. I didn't want to believe what I already knew was true, but I had to check to see if the person was alive. I grabbed the person's shirt and tried to upright him. His head bobbed from side to side as his body lifted and then fell into the side of the door. His head came to an abrupt rest on the door and made a soft, squish sound. That was when I noticed the purple splotches and lumps on his skin, and that one of them had burst when his head hit the door. I ran to my car with my hand over my mouth and a huge lump in my throat. Needless to say, I got away from there as fast as I could. Driving just to concentrate on anything but what I had just seen, I kept the pedal on the floor and drove the city in a blind fit of fear, rage and confusion. Every street corner was another death site. Cars with people slowly cooking in the noontime sun and people roasting on the warm sidewalks. And all of them with the same pimply complexions, most having leaked out into large puddles around their heaped bodies. It pains me very much to have to recall those images to write about them now. I just can't bear to think what happened last night while I slept.
One odd note: animals of all kinds seem to have not been affected at all, or, at least they were not killed. None of the dogs or cats that I came across would come to me when I called them. Instead, they would cast a sarcastic gaze at my pitiful form, as if to say, "Come to you and have you pet us with your hand of death? Think you we crazy?!" Or maybe I am wondering too much about something that may not be very relevant at the moment.
Anyway, I meandered home at about five or six PM and, after an hour of crying and blubbering in a corner, I tried to eat some food. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my meal down because I would keep getting recurring images of those people and those purple lumps on their faces and hands and oh I'm afraid I'm going to be sick again...sorry...
I'm better now. That is what has happened today. It is nearing ten PM and I am somewhat exhausted from the day's discoveries and revelations. Maybe sleep is what I need. So I'll turn in now for a night I'm sure will be filled with nightmares and visions of doom for my head is in an awful state.
R.I.P. dad
I'll miss you
Nov. 4, 1991 2:15P.M.
This morning I arose only slightly refreshed, but at least my head was a little clearer. I had an amazing dream within the night during one of the small lapses of sleep I managed to fall into. It showed the city draped in a colossal darkness, yet I knew it was daytime. Out of the darkness came a silhouette with eyes like ice on fire. The image was about to speak when I, thankfully, awoke. But I can't help believing the dream was a sign, even a warning to leave town immediately. So I am. I'm leaving this burial ground o' the sinners as soon as I finish this entry.
I spent the day gathering some supplies into a brand new Jeep Wrangler I 'borrowed' from a local dealership. Gassed it up at an abandoned gas station (gas is cheaper these days, you know; it's practically free!) and toured the stores for food that wasn't spoiled or hadn't been pillaged by dogs, deer or rats. I packed some clothes (big 100% off sale going on right now!) and some gear for any problems I might encounter on my long trip. Games, first aid kits, chainsaw, tapes to play in the nice cassette player in the Jeep, a couple guns and plenty ammo, along with some other useless crap that just looked good so I grabbed it. I mean, I've got to have some stuff to keep me from getting on my nerves like I used to get on my parents nerves as we traveled when I was younger.
Now I'm going to burn rubber and pavement for the east! New York has captured my eye but I have no idea where my final destination will actually be. I better stop writing so I can get in some good mileage before dark. Going to miss you Montana.
Nov. 7, 1991 9A.M.
Been on the road for three days now. Been stopping every once in awhile at some little town along the way. I fill up on gas, grab extra food and supplies, and check to see if anyone is alive in the area. No luck yet, and I'm guessing that I be it. I guess I'm learning to deal with the loneliness, but it is tough.
Nov. 7, 1991 3:30P.M.
I downed a cake at a grocery store in a little town in southern Michigan today. You see, over the last few days I've gotten used to seeing the bloated, fly-covered bodies that have been strung across the nation just as they were at home. I even kind of expect to see them. I'm glad I'm getting used to it because it sure makes eating food a lot easier now.
Anyway, the cake was special because today is my birthday. The cake was covered in chocolate icing and candy sprinkles. In bright red icing were written the words, " Happy 4th Birthday Johnny!" I don't know Johnny but his cake was superb. But that wasn't the best of the deal. I met Sarah only minutes after I met Johnny's cake. With chocolate icing all over my face and hands (I seem to have forgotten all my manners since there is no one around to offend with bad manners anymore), she walked into the store and into my life.
I am convinced that Sarah is some sort of retribution for me, for all that I have been through the last couple of days. At least she has quieted those voices in my head that have been trying to get me to end it, to just kill myself and get it all over with once and for all. But as long as Sarah is here and with me, that isn’t going to happen. Let me tell you about her.
Sarah is about 5'10" with long legs and blonde hair. And not that bleached stuff, either. This is real, natural, born-with blonde. She has rosy cheeks, soft to the touch. Her complexion is clear and she has never worn makeup in her life. This is a wonderful change from what I've become used to over the last couple days, let me tell you. She smells like a mid-spring meadow at dawn, only better. She was so stunningly beautiful when I first saw her that I almost went headfirst into the remnants of Johnny's cake. Johnny wouldn't have liked that, I'm sure.
When she saw me in the store, she ran to me and embraced me with a fervent passion I had never known. And I thought I was lonely! She exclaimed, "I thought I was all alone! But I saw your Jeep drive into town so I ran after you and here you are and you're not all purple and runny and I can't believe it!" And we hugged again and cried together for a long while. All I wanted to do was hold her forever. I had fallen in love with her at first sight and time just seemed to fade away, an unimportant idea that had no say in things at the moment. For the first time in several days, dating back to even before the disaster, I felt whole again.
We talked for endless hours and the sun began to leave us in the store alone. Only a few lights in the store worked, but the light they cast upon us was like a beacon into our souls. I felt like we were back in the forests of Montana where I enjoyed going when I was younger. The aisles of the store were like the tall oaks and pines and the carpet like the hard ground and green grass of the mountain meadows I had hiked through as a boy, in a time so long ago. So long ago, that I could have sworn I had only read about it in an old, dusty book coming apart at the spine. Only now, new pages were being written as we spoke. A new story with no ending in sight and no time to think of one.
Sometime just before sunset, we left. We went to her house and she collected all of her belongings that wouldn't remind her too much of her past and the incident that had ended it. We drove off into the sunset with our eyes on the road and into the future. Well, actually we drove away from the sunset, but that's just not as romantic.
Nov. 9, 1991 10:45P.M.
Two days of bliss. Two days of unending happiness. Two days of totally unadulterated love and joy. Sarah is the greatest thing to happen to me in my whole life. I would and will do anything for her. I will never leave her side for any reason. And she feels the same for me. Yesterday, we decided that we were husband and wife since we don't have anyone to marry us nor do we have the power vested in us by the state of California or any other state to pronounce us as such. Needless to say, it has been a great couple of days.
Sarah's first days after this disaster were quite similar to mine so we have something in common, and many like stories to share. We both woke up to the same scene: no one alive but ourselves. All the animals in her town were ok, but they also seemed distant and nervous around her. Unfortunately, she discovered that her parents had both died. Her mother was apparently asleep, and I am glad she did not suffer. But, her father was out in the yard. Neither of us have been able to surmise why he was there, for garbage day was the day before this all happened. I asked Sarah if she wanted me to maybe do a little investigating for her, but she told me she had already buried her parents in the cemetery where her grandparents were laid to rest, so any evidence of what had happened to her father was with him now. We have both noticed how the questions surrounding this disaster keep compiling while the answers seem to be nonexistent. But, as long as we have each other, neither of us will let that fact get us down. I am almost sure that some answers will be found in New York, or in that general vicinity. Even though I have Sarah to think about, I almost always dream of an evil lurking behind us every night. An evil that is driving us towards the east, towards New York and something that will hopefully have answers. And, I hope to hell that there will be something there that can help us. Like maybe more survivors, that is my personal hope. Actual living human beings, alive and breathing, like it used to be. Being with Sarah is more than enough to keep me going, but I had always hoped to have the same kind of life that my Dad had wanted me to have. Get married, have a family, and always feel loved. I want normalcy and stability, and not the burden of having to start the human race all over again. Maybe I’m worrying too much, but Sarah and I could never really have that if we were the only two people on the planet. I hope that she wouldn’t feel offended if she knew how I felt.
Well, it is getting late. Sarah and I stopped here in this town in Illinois. We have been stopping in a lot of places because there have been plenty of signs of life along the way, but there has been no glimpse of who might be doing it. We worry a lot about looters and such coming out of nowhere and stealing our stuff, or worse, killing us. So, we try our best to stay inconspicuous, but at the same time, we also want to find any survivors and find out what is going on. We are currently in a hotel on the outskirts of Champaign, Illinois, and tomorrow were heading east through Indiana. We want to get an early start, because every single large city we come through has had a horrid smell from the dead rotting all over the place. We got lucky we found this hotel, which only had about five deceased people in it. The smell isn’t too bad in here, but its not as good as when we are on the road. So, I’m finishing up this entry now and going to bed. The road awaits us in the morning, and I don’t want to keep it waiting.