Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The Walls Are Closing In

(Lights up on Paul’s home. It is a monument to paranoia, meticulously barricaded and full of survivalist gear. Paul writes in a leather journal.)


Day 257. It rained last night. Collected another two cups of water. Only six tablespoons of purifying chemical remaining. Still able to boil the water, but eventually firewood will become an issue. Cannot afford to burn all lumber, as it may be needed to reinforce barricades if They become aware of my presence. Concerned that They may hear me if I attempt to exercise, but must try to maintain a level of fitness in case combat becomes unavoidable.
Read The Stand again yesterday. Reviewed Morse code. Considered trying to cultivate fungus as a food source – but have decided to disregard – for the moment, at least. 

As usual, no response to radio hails. Thunderstorms are best time to attempt contact. Confident that They will not hear over the thunder and lightning. Requires precise timing, but have had plenty of practice. 257 days of practice.

You make your home a fortress
To keep the dead outside
You’ve got nowhere to run to
So instead you try to hide
You barricade the windows
You reinforce the doors
You do what you have to
To protect what’s yours

Monday, January 28, 2013

Nancy's Story

They came into the house where I was staying – squatting – with my friends. And I was so far gone – it just wasn’t real. It was like I was in a dream, it was just a bad trip – I was seeing my friends, being ripped apart and eaten in front of me, but I didn’t even flinch. I didn’t even close my eyes. I was so far away. They killed everyone who was moving – and then they just... moved on. They didn’t want me. They thought I was already dead.

I hadn’t eaten in a week. My skin was gray, and my hair was falling out. I looked dead. I probably smelled dead. They thought I was dead. They weren’t exactly wrong.

Some time later – a day? A week? – I came around, and I saw all the blood and guts and bits of brains all around the room and I screamed – I screamed like I was the one who had been ripped apart. And then some commando guy burst in and threw me over his shoulder – and I thought he was one of them, but he was alive. I woke up at the base, and they told me how they had saved me. They saved me…

And for the first month I was there – detoxing and… showing them how grateful I was for saving me… I wished that I had died.