693 DAYS GONE
I am a survivor. I have always been a survivor. I survived for my daughter Alyssa. I survived as long as I could out here for her. The longer I survived, the longer her memory would remain in me. But now, a part of me knew it was going to end like this…
After years of abuse from my piece of shit husband, I would hide the bruises and the tears from Alyssa each night. Of course, she heard the yelling and screaming, but I stayed strong for her. She was so young and pure. I stayed with him because I thought it would be better for her. I didn’t want her to grow up in a broken home where I would only see her every other holiday. One day, I had enough. He went out to a bar like he normally would, so I told Alyssa we were taking a long trip. I had our bags packed and we left and never looked back. I started a new life with just me and her. That’s all I needed. Unfortunately, my time with her was cut short. The world came to an end and I lost her.
I pushed forward to make her proud. It sounds silly because she’s not even here, but it was the one thing that kept me going. Being able to still remember her laughter or her soft voice made my life worth living. That’s why I made it this far. Now, I became a different person. A person that I wouldn’t want Alyssa to meet. That fact alone makes me despise myself. Each day the memories of her faded. Each day got darker. Each day I would do something worse than the last.
So, here I am. Leaning against this tree struggling to even write down my last words. I got shot in the stomach and my blood is everywhere. Some drifter came into our camp and killed us all. I was the only one that survived. I guess our reputation got around of our ambushes and this time someone ambushed us. Survival of the fittest.
It’s getting dark now and I can hear the Freakers coming from all directions. Ironically, I have only one bullet left. Like I said, a part of me knew it was going to end like this.
For my daughter,
If you haven’t read the first two journal entries from Katie, you can check them out at the links below.
Entry 1: https://thebrokenroad.home.blog/2019/06/14/a-look-at-the-other-side-entry-1/
Entry 2: https://thebrokenroad.home.blog/2019/07/01/a-look-at-the-other-side-entry-2/
650 DAYS GONE
A lot has happened
these past couple of weeks. We lost some people, but I’m still here. The
question I have been asking myself lately is, do I want to be here? Maybe, I’ve
been in this shit too long now. Let’s face it, I could care less about this
group of assholes in this camp. They only help me survive and that’s all I
need. Sure, I’ve met some decent people along the way, but no one I would jump
in front of a bullet for. The only thing I cared about was lost some time ago.
I thought if I kept going I could honor her in some way, but that was just a fantasy.
Honestly, I should have blown out my brains that day and saved myself from all
Enough of my sob
We had to be proactive
today. There is this group of riders that we call the Raider Patrol. They
continue to ride in our area looking for god knows what. They think they’re
like the damn police of the apocalypse I guess. Anyway, one of the guys came up
with an idea to cut them off because not only are they sending Freakers toward
us with their loud motorcycles, but they could have some supplies on them that
we need. We’ve done things like this before when we become desperate and today
was one of those days. The Raiders have been taking the same route each day for
the past few days. Only one rider would travel the road during the day, so we
sent three of us out to make sure the job gets done. A couple of days ago, Big
Ed came across a junky sniper rifle found at an abandoned camp. Who knows what
happened to those people. He cleaned it up the best he could and ensured us it
was functional for our plan today. Long story short, it was.
Big Ed decided to
climb up a tree to get a better vantage point he said. A little unorthodox I
thought, but hey the plan worked. Jim hid in a bush just off the road a little
ways not too far from the tree Big Ed was in. I ducked behind an abandoned car
on the road. The trap was set and behold, that idiot rider came right into our
trap. Big Ed took one shot with his sniper rifle and threw the rider right off
his bike. Jim and I jumped out of our hiding spots and dashed toward him. I was
carrying a wooden baseball bat and Jim had a hatchet. The rider was a little
dazed from being shot in the shoulder, but he got up and fumbled for his weapon
attached to his hip. I met him first and took a nice swing to his chest before
he could pull his gun up. He bent over from what I assume took the wind out of
him. Then I swung at him again, this time hitting him square in the back
sending him to the ground. Jim rushed right up behind me and stuck the hatchet
right in his spine. He ripped the hatchet out of his back and then struck him
again and again until I had to pull him off. I’ve seen this too many times when
a man loses control of his feelings and unleashes all his anger on a helpless
corpse. It’s disgusting.
I understand the
situation of these ambushes we conduct. It’s the survival of the fittest. I
just wish so many people didn’t have to die. Freakers are another thing, we
kill them because we must. People can be talked to, negotiated with, maybe even
helped sometimes. As much as that Raider was annoying me with his motorcycle,
there should always be a better way in getting the things we need to survive. I
know I’m not myself anymore, but each time I see another man or woman die I lose
the good memories. The smile from my daughter’s face, the smell of fresh baked
cookies coming from the oven and the holidays we would share with friends and
family. All that vanishes with each kill and now I see their eyes. The eyes of
the people we have had to kill to survive. The puddles and puddles of blood.
All that for what, a little extra meat or some bandages to last us a couple
more days. That’s what we got today. That’s all we got.