I don't know what day it is and I don't care. I've stayed at the cabin for at least the past two months, so it may be February. It's been a while since I posted because I've been just staying alive. Some really messed up shit had me messed up for a while. I've been scavenging the area and I've seen signs of others. I've returned to the gas station three times - the first time I had to kill four zombies. They were all in bad shape, a lot of them eaten away, so I was able to do it silently, with an axe I found in the cabin. Really beautiful weapon with two heads. I feel nothing when I kill them, but from what I heard on the radio - pleas for help, people not being able to bring themselves to destroy a mother, father, sister - whatever. Too many of us, the living, think these fucking things will remember us. THEY DON'T! My second time, I nearly ran into two other scavengers. Rather than having to kill them, I let them take what they wanted - most of the food in the small store is gone or has been ruined by rodents - then came down and took more gas, and a box of plastic canteens. Those canteens nearly got my ass killed, but I'll get to that. The third time there was no one, but I got very little gas. I won't be returning there again.
When I got back, I decided to take the canteens and go to a nearby stream and fill them all. So far the winter has been mild. No snow and just a bit of rain. Hasn't dropped out of the forties (by the cabin's outside thermometer). I keep a strict schedule, only using fire at night and making sure all the windows are blocked. I went down to the stream, which is about two hundred yards from the cabin. Looks like it would be a good place to fish, with some deep areas up and down stream. Probably trout - but I only know that from watching TV. If I stay here until spring - I'm still planning on heading for Camp Tryon - I'll try some fishing. Anyhow, I chose a small waterfall to fill the canteens. I was intent so intent on completing this task - that I didn't know they were on me until I felt a cold, wet, clammy hand on my shoulder. I jumped up, knocking the creature back and spun around, clawing for my pistol - my AK was safe on a rock a ways back. There were four of them, all dripping wet, tied together. What had been a man, a woman and two children all waterlogged and hideous. Scrambling back, my hands were shaking as I shot the father in the throat. The rotting, putrid flesh parted, leaving his head hanging only on his neck bone. The four of them shuffled forward as I fired again, hitting the woman in the face, blowing out her nose and the back of her head. She tumbled to the ground, slowing the others. The kids were the worst, they snarled and moaned, until I put bullets in their faces. They tumbled down to the ground, stopping the father in his tracks. For some reason, tears filled my eyes as I put a final bullet through the fathers head. Why the fuck would someone just give up like this? Drown their entire family like that? Just give up? I was going to search the bodies, but their clothes were mostly tatters. I wondered if they left a car parked somewhere? if they did, it probably didn't hold anything of importance. Getting my canteens, which I'd strung together with paracord, I grabbed my AK and hustled it back to the cabin. I did a perimeter sweep before making sure my ride hadn't been tampered with. It might be time to move on for Fort Tryon. Perhaps someone’s there. From what I'd heard on the radio, there might be safety in numbers, but there might not too.