Tuesday, May 15th...
Tuesday, May 15th
1:30am Redmond, Washington:
I woke up with a migraine this morning. I’m not sure if it’s the booze I had the night before, or the shockwaves from the blast at Ground Zero.
Things have gone from shit, to shit storm in a little over 24 hours. It seems like yesterday I was starting my life, a husband…a father. That’s all behind me now. I suppose I have plenty to be proud of, many accomplishments in my life that I’d say made it all worth while, but when you’re powerless to do anything as you watch your wife & son…die…ripped to pieces like a meal for a pack of rabid animals, well...sorta brings things into perspective you know?
Nobody really knows where this “virus” came from; hell there’s not a man alive who even knows what the f**k it is. Only one thing is for certain, the dead aren’t happy sleeping anymore…and after their stiff naps, they’re hungry mother fuckers!
I kept a journal when the shit hit the fan, but in the chaos that followed I must have left it behind. So now I’m starting anew. Not that it matters anyhow, my words then were filled with optimism…Chrissy and Simon were with me when I was writing, but I failed them both. I suppose it’s a fitting end to close that chapter and start fresh from here, far less optimistic than I once was with only one goal in mind; travel to Houston and make my way to some Island in the Gulf. It’s hurricane season now so worse case scenario, any of those dead fucks should be washed far off shore and supplies will be easy pickin’. My little island paradise…I can almost picture it.
First stop on the list is a little prison just south of the Oregon border…Pelican Bay. From what I’ve read, it’s home to some of the worst humanity has to offer, we’re talking Level IV grade-A psychopaths. Why the hell would anyone travel here of their own free will? I suppose in some small way I expect it to be clean from the outbreak. Hell, if the place is designed to keep the inmates locked tightly in, it would most certainly serve the same purpose for anyone…or any thing trying to get in. With such asinine logic I suppose I’m justifying the risk of mingling with some thugs who’d tear my head off for the wrong look, as opposed to biding my time ‘fore the zekes make a meal of me. Either way the potential for this to end well is hopeless…SNAFU!
Damn it’s late…’bout a quarter after 3. I need to get some sleep before my trip in the morning.
1:30am Redmond, Washington:
I woke up with a migraine this morning. I’m not sure if it’s the booze I had the night before, or the shockwaves from the blast at Ground Zero.
Things have gone from shit, to shit storm in a little over 24 hours. It seems like yesterday I was starting my life, a husband…a father. That’s all behind me now. I suppose I have plenty to be proud of, many accomplishments in my life that I’d say made it all worth while, but when you’re powerless to do anything as you watch your wife & son…die…ripped to pieces like a meal for a pack of rabid animals, well...sorta brings things into perspective you know?
Nobody really knows where this “virus” came from; hell there’s not a man alive who even knows what the f**k it is. Only one thing is for certain, the dead aren’t happy sleeping anymore…and after their stiff naps, they’re hungry mother fuckers!
I kept a journal when the shit hit the fan, but in the chaos that followed I must have left it behind. So now I’m starting anew. Not that it matters anyhow, my words then were filled with optimism…Chrissy and Simon were with me when I was writing, but I failed them both. I suppose it’s a fitting end to close that chapter and start fresh from here, far less optimistic than I once was with only one goal in mind; travel to Houston and make my way to some Island in the Gulf. It’s hurricane season now so worse case scenario, any of those dead fucks should be washed far off shore and supplies will be easy pickin’. My little island paradise…I can almost picture it.
First stop on the list is a little prison just south of the Oregon border…Pelican Bay. From what I’ve read, it’s home to some of the worst humanity has to offer, we’re talking Level IV grade-A psychopaths. Why the hell would anyone travel here of their own free will? I suppose in some small way I expect it to be clean from the outbreak. Hell, if the place is designed to keep the inmates locked tightly in, it would most certainly serve the same purpose for anyone…or any thing trying to get in. With such asinine logic I suppose I’m justifying the risk of mingling with some thugs who’d tear my head off for the wrong look, as opposed to biding my time ‘fore the zekes make a meal of me. Either way the potential for this to end well is hopeless…SNAFU!
Damn it’s late…’bout a quarter after 3. I need to get some sleep before my trip in the morning.
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