March 12, 2023

I’m thankful that I’m breathing

I’m thankful for the can of beans I found last night

I miss John, first and foremost. I miss him so much. I feel intense, heaving shame that I could not save him. I run through that day a million times, wanting so badly to replay it. I could save a few moments of time a million ways, and then I could have saved him.

Anyway, I need to go make the rounds soon.

Keep positive, Steve, until tomorrow.

March 13, 2023

I’m thankful to still be breathing

I’m thankful to have had one of John’s arms to bury; the manual labor was nice

Well, time to think of some words to say. Yesterday was the worst day of my life. I can’t do this without John. I need him. I need help. I need someone. I can’t keep writing to you, journal.

On top of that, a have a gnawing, intense itch on my back, which I can’t look at. I assume it is an allergic reaction or mild fungal infection, yet it is greatly affecting my mental faculties, or maybe I’m just going batshit alone.

I miss my John.

March 16, 2023

Sorry, journal. This is becoming to hard.

Words are hard to think of, to remember. I found a thesaurus but remembering spelling is hard.

Oh, almost forgot.

I’m thankful to be breath

I’m thankful to still have John with me.

John returned late last night, very apologetic for his hasty disappearance.

I’m going to go cuddle with him, now. He’s all I got really. He’s keeping the bed warm.

March 18, 2023

God, sorry. I keep missing daily entries.

My back constantly itches, I spent most of yesterday scratching it raw, until it trickled blood.

John seems to have left again. I can’t find him anymore. I hope he’s holed up somewhere safe; it’s cold outside.

Oh, also.

I’m thankful for my mom and dad for making mE

I’m thankful for Elvis. I miss music

Anyway, the itch is starting up again.

Until tomorrow

Steve

March 21, 2023

What’s going on

Happening

You know

Happening is a weird word

It means kind of like “going on now” or like “actively occurring”

But what really is happening?

What is actively occurring inside me?

Weird how that works

How happening is spelled

How it is made of so few letters and sounds

And yet what is ‘happening’ can encapsulate my entire life

And, so I ask myself, what is happening?

What am I doing?

What is going on?

I’m not sure, my friends.

I am thankful to be breathing

I am thankful for my mom

I am thankful for you, journal.

-Steve

August 3rd, 2056

I had to shoot the dog. I took no pleasure in it, I must admit. I cried over that dog.

Macy tried to comfort me, but nothing came through. The dog saved my life many times over. It hurt to see her suffering so much, a chunk of flesh missing from her back, already turning green-ish brown from the infection. It was rotting before my very eyes. I shot the dog before the kids saw and buried her in the backyard.

On the bright side, our traps are working. We caught a fawn; Macy told me after I told the kids the dog ran away. She made us soup. I’m so glad they’re catching animals. We haven’t had fresh meat in days. I was worried the kids were going to starve before we got anything.

It was some damn good soup.

August 5th, 2056

Lucy got sick. Macy said they were on a walk and she ate some poisonous leaves. The poor thing was starving. We gave her the leftover soup so she can get better. I think Harlan caught it too. He hasn’t gotten out of bed all day.

Honestly, I’m not feeling great either. I’ve been feeling under the weather for the past few days. Maybe it’s grief from losing the dog. I don’t know anymore.

The traps haven’t caught anything else yet.

August 8th, 2056

Lucy is dead.

I had no choice. She was turned. I don’t know how. I killed her the same way I killed the dog. She didn’t suffer at all.

I don’t know how to tell Harlan.

August 9th, 2056

Macy made soup again. The traps caught veal this time. A cow must have escaped from the ranch nearby. It was dead when she found it.

Harlan is sick, so we gave him Lucy’s portion. We told him she went to the stronghold beyond the canyon. He asked when he could go there too. I can’t lose him either. Macy’s been acting strange too. I think she’s getting whatever he has. I think I’m sick too, but I can’t let them know. I need to carry us forward.

August 10th, 2056

I want to kill her.

Macy fed us the infected meat from the dog. We were all infected, but Lucy got the worst of it. She turned the fastest.

We ate her. Macy said it was veal and I didn’t question it. She fed me my fucking daughter. She’s killed us all. We fed more to Harlan, so he got infected too. I had to kill him too. She’s about to turn, I can feel it. I’m not going to give her that chance.

August 12th, 2056

She’s dead.

I’m next.

If you’re reading this, stay away. Don’t eat the meat in the icebox. Don’t eat anything.

Good luck.

-Trenton Katze

P.S. the revolver has five bullets left in it.

January 1^(st), 2023, home

Happy new year,

didn't expect to survive this long honestly, not alone.

kinda wish Liam and Klaire still alive, would be fun to talk the whole night off while drinking that jack D we found on November at someone's kitchen.

Well, toast to you all, got to plan tomorrow's run.

​

January 4^(th), 2023, home

Klaire's 4th rule: follow and plan your escape routes.

Should've checked the back alley for blockades or stuff, I was lucky those things can't climb over fences (or unlucky, damn wire tore my shoulder, Hopefully I have enough antibiotic to fight tetanus)

​

January 6^(th), 2023, home

Feeling better, hopefully I did not get tetanus from that rusty fence.

probably I should get some stuff from the clinic, just to be safe.

P.s Remember to pack some food, these days feels like I'm getting hungry faster.

​

January 12^(th), 2023, CB Clinic

Writing journal helps they say, it calms your mind they say.

It certainly does not make those things go away from the building.

going to risk escaping this place tomorrow, starving

Note to self: Hide in cafeteria next time, not the X ray room.

​

January 14^(th), 2023, home

Liam, Klaire, why do you guys leave me behind?

Why do nevermind, shyt happens in life, got to go with it.

back to actual stuff, might need to check another clinic for more meds or smth that helps, My shoulder feels numbs and my head feels heavy these days.

​

January 17^(th), AC apartment

Rule no.4, rule no.4, RULE NO.4.

I think i an having fever. sleep

​

January 19^(th), A

Should've checked the alley, always check them.

nearly broke my leg slipping from that dumpster, i think i hit my head.

I'm not sure if i will write this journal in near time, they are near me, need all the sleep i can get.

​

january 23^(rd), 2023, MD Condominium

One can of chicken a day keeps the starvation away. (Still hungry)

Not sure if I am too hungry to move, or that rusty fence is giving me fever, body is weak.

Hopefully the main door can hold out.

​

Jan 24 2023 MD Condo

Something is wrong

I can't feel my shoulder

fevers high

hungry

canned tuna mayo didn't help

​

Jan

I think i am finished.

should've remembered how to treat tetanus.

should;ve gotten that jab back in hs

should've remembered rule no.4

Should've listend to Klaire

at least i'm not eaten alive

not like them

I'm sorry

​

Jan something

If anyone find this book, go check XX Apartment, unit XV, take whatever you need from my place.

take the Jack d too

My name is Russell, and friend of Liam and Klaire.

(If i survived, i should remove this)

Reasons I am almost definitely not a zombie:

1. Bruises can stay for weeks without clearing up. The fact that my upper arm remains bright purple and blue should have no bearing.

2. There is nothing on me that looks like a bite mark. The scratches on my arm in the middle of the bruising are from whatever I ran into. Probably a tree.

3. Just because it felt like I was holding my breath for an hour yesterday while waiting for a hoard to pass doesn't mean it wasn't really a minute and a half. Obviously I can't accurately tell time without a clock.

4. I've always had difficulty finding my pulse especially in my wrist. Not currently being able to find my pulse means nothing.

I haven't been able to work out how the whole situation started yet. Between avoiding hoards, packing and repacking my survival backpack, raiding Wal-Mart for more paint samples, and price checking DVDs, I just haven't had the time.

I like paint samples. They remind me of paint commercials on TV, the kind where the parents are figuring out what color to paint the new baby's room.

Which reminds me I've got to return the baby names book to the library. It's due date is tomorrow. Along with half a dozen other books.

If I leave now, I think as I'm shuffling through the paint samples, I'll probably make it before the library closes. And I've got another pack of the expensive index cards for the catalogue. If there's anything I've learned from the Library of Alexandria it's that a society of one still needs a working card catalogue if they're going to be able to use any of the books to survive without burning them (adult romance novels don't count). Well that and don't burn your only source of information and entertainment no matter how angry you are to be the survivor.

The library is actually the reason for my list. If I'm going crazy or turning into a zombie I'd like to leave a record of it. That way some poor archeologist in the future can make sense of what happened here. I certainly haven't managed it yet.

I pick out a nice set of greens and rub the colors as I make my way out of the store. I use the side entrance and lock it up with the nice bike chain I found in the toy section. The key goes into the drop box. My sign on the door says, "The key to the chain is in the (unlocked) drop box. Please lock up and return the key when exiting."

The other side of the sign, the one that can be seen from the inside of the door, says, "Please sign your name and then come visit me at Costco." I've taped a working pen to the sign, but the only name there is my own.

Figures.

I make it to the library without any mishaps greater than tripping over nothing. Not even a zombie to walk away from.

My sun-bleached signs on the library doors read, "Welcome to the Library! The key is in the Dropbox. Please lock up and return key when exiting."

The books are also behind locked doors, but I keep the key with me. Books useless in an apocalypse (read: adult romance novels and unfinished series) are left in the lobby. They are for kindling.

I'm halfway through cataloging the Young Adult J's when I hear a thud and some shuffling. I pause and listen more closely.

Did I forget to lock the door? I think.

A moment later I realize the answer is yes when a zombie shuffles into view. I look toward the other end of the aisle for my escape route, but apparently I'm on the one aisle with only one entrance. I look for my escape plan book. But underneath the catalogue cards is just dusty carpet. I purse my lips and sigh inwardly.

Climbing the shelves it is.

At the top I pause to examine the zombie. It looks like it had been wearing a pink dress and it's hair is a dark shade of red. It's bruised arms reach for me but can't quite touch the top of the shelf. It grunts and rasps.

Terrifying. (Please note the sarcasm.)

It doesn't look like anyone I know so I jump down the other side and make my way to the stairs.

"Hey Zom-breath!" I call, when I'm past the aisle. "The delicious definitely human flesh is over here!"

The zombie turns and starts shuffling it's way over toward me at a much faster pace. The closer it gets, the more it's jaw begins working readying itself to feed.

I let it chase me out of the library before I turn a couple of corners and loop my way back to the library.

It seems I've only left out the most important part of the list. I put it at the top and number it 0.

The zombies do not see me as one of their own.

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Dear diary,

Today was a bad day. Mom and Uncle Rick said we couldn't stay at the bookstore we've been camping in the last few days because the sick people found it. I don't get why they are both always so mean to the sick people. They said it's because they want to hurt us but when I had the flu last year I never wanted to hurt anyone and I made funny noises too. I thought maybe if I brought them some of my favorite books they might see we can get along and it would help them feel better? Mom always said being happy is an important part of being healthy when dad was around. I just want everyone to get along like they used to.

Anyway, I promised Mom and Uncle Rick I'd stay in our secret hideout while they got some stuff we needed but it was super boring and we're leaving soon anyway so I thought it wouldn't be a big deal to go meet a sick person without any mean adults and give them my books and cheer them up a little.

I found a nice looking sick boy and tried to give him my books but it turns out he definitely was mean. He didn't even look at my books and just pushed me over and hit my back a lot and it hurt really bad. I screamed and Uncle Rick found me and hit the boy a lot of times even after he stopped moving. I don't get why everyone is so mean all the time.

Mom and Uncle Rick were really really mean after that. I just tried to do a nice thing like Mom always told me to do growing up and now she keeps crying and yelling. Uncle Rick keeps giving me really mean looks especially. I think him and mom are talking about me because I can't hear what words they are saying except for when mom screams more. I tried to hug them and tell them I'm sorry but both of them didn't even want my hugs this time and mom never says no to my hugs so I think I'm in extra big trouble. I'm going to try and sleep now, see you tomorrow diary!

..

WHOAAA, GUESS WHAT DIARY? IT'S A SUPER SPECIAL TWO ENTRY DAY! ^__^ Mom and Uncle Rick aren't mad anymore! They woke me up and said what I tried to do was really really nice and they love me so so much. They said they weren't mad at me even a little bit! They gave me my own special sleeping spot in my own room even to say sorry for yelling and said tomorrow we can do ANYTHING I wanted. I can't wait to tell you all about it tomorrow!

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Thursday, March 24th

Whitfield is completely overrun. Barely escaped with my life. From the hill on the outskirts I saw Shamblers along the uptown area. None near the grocery store on the edge of town. I thought I could chance it if I was was quick and remained stealthy. Pried open the backdoor without being discovered. The storeroom beyond had largely been raided by previous parties. I decided to investigate the main store and looked out from the storeroom. The interior of the store was filled with highly decomposed Shamblers and at least two fresher Runners. I barely escaped. As I jumped the fence beyond my leg must have gotten tangled in the razor wire. I have bandaged it for now, but the wound still aches. I used the last of my alcohol in cleaning it. I hope I don't succumb to infection. It would be embarrassing to make it this far only to die from that.

​

Saturday, March 26th

My limp has been slowing me down. I have been forced to travel away from the cities and across open ground. This is slow going in the best of times but now it means I will be lucky to make it to Hargrove by the end of next week. If my supplies last that long. I think I may have a fever so it looks like I didn't clean that wound out well enough. It looks bad today, but the bleeding has stopped so that is encouraging. I also think being sick is making me feel less hunger as I really haven't had much of an appetite. Maybe that will extend my supplies. Regardless, Jean should be waiting for me in Hargrove. I have to keep reminding myself of that as that one thought is all that is allowing me to push on like I am.

Sunday, March ?

Walked all day. Very much walking. Hungry again. Food gone off. Spit it out. Find something later, maybe? Slept much yesterday. But tired today. Like cloud settling in. Hungry and hard to think. Must be fever. I think they have medicine in the place. Place with Jean.

Tuesday March 55

Hard to write. Hard to think. Walking and hungry. Didn't stop last night. Kept walking. Tired, but hurts to stop. Easier to keep going. Leg hurts less. Don't really feel anything anymore. Kind of numb. Still going place. See Jean soon.

Day

Writing. Jean.

Saw Jean. Ran to her. Not so hungry. Where Jean?

... it's all gone to shit.

March 23 Hiding out in some suburbia home. Safest option I could find near the city. Pictures everywhere. Happy family, torn apart by all this shit. I hope my marsha's okay.

They must've left in a hurry though. Lots of goodies lying around. My first full meals in a couple of days. Not going hungry tonight.

March 24 I had to move to another house further out. Back door of the other one was busted. A dead head waltzed in, in the middle of the night.

I filled a duffel with enough food. Had to pad some to make sure they didn't clink together and make noise when I move.

There were a lot of supplies but I only took the essentials. I couldn't take anymore. I have to keep moving.

March 25 Shit Shit Shit! I saved some kid that bolted down the road this morning when she saw me. The whole damn family had turned, but she was lucky. Says her mom stuffed her in her room and locked the door. I had fight the mom off her. Tried to bite me but only managed to get in a few scratches. Blew her brains out on the sidewalk.

She cried. She cried so much hugging her mother. I couldn't do anything. She's so young, she shouldn't have seen that. I can only think of marsh when Selene died. She's all alone like this girl. I hope you're safe. Dad's coming.

March 27 She woke up again. Her fever broke in the night. I had to take her back to that house down the block with the supplies. I thought she was infected but no bite marks anywhere, her leg was just broken. I guess 120 pounds of adult human standing on top of you could do that.

I made makeshift cast. This guy had a workshop, so some curtain cloth, aid kit bandages and plywood were enough.

Poor thing hadn't eaten in days. Her name's Lindsey, Lindsey Watson she says. Her smile makes my heart less anxious. Like everything's going to be fine.

Feeling a little under the weather myself. I'll take a few pills just in case. I'll be better tomorrow

March 29 I feel worse today. My neck hurts.

We drove several miles and are nearing the town, where marsh is. I put Lindsey in the back seat and stuffed the back with all the food that could fit.

I was so lucky. It was a full tank when I found it. Driving like this was much easier. Doing it in the inner city was asking for trouble. The guy in the front seat wasn't so lucky though. Had to trick him out

Sydney said the military near their boarding school helped them out. Smart girl, she smuggled her phone in with Marsh's help. They're all fine. Marsh's fine

March 30 I'm coughing out blood. We're at the military blockade. They took Lindsey. Kept me in the car. I don't think I'll... I can't let her see me like this.

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