Day 66

The one thing they never tell you about the end of the world is how hard it is to find a dry pair of socks. You wouldn’t think that such a trivial thing would cause so much trouble, but the fact of the matter is, my feet are cold and wet and it’s driving me crazier than anything else. The screaming into the night; the groans of whatever cannibalistic baddies strafe by our camp; the wet, sucking sound of demons in the distance feasting off others: all of these things seem like white noise now. But the feeling of wet socks is enough to drive even a man with the sturdiest constitution mad.

I thought that my mind would burst with all of the thoughts running through it over these past two months; but that was before I found this computer. Believe it or not, it’s hard to find a functioning computer these days. Let alone one with a decent enough battery to give me time to write down the myriad of encounters that our group has in any given day.

I suppose I’d better start from the beginning. This laptop has a nice lithium battery, so I’ve got a few hours of power before it runs dead.

I’m not sure how it started, to be honest. I was sitting in a cab heading up town for an interview when the driver turned up the radio. Some weird broadcast about riots breaking out all over the city. He freaked out and left me there, running down an alley, shouting something about his daughter.

Poor guy. He didn’t even see the “rioters” hiding in the alley. My blood was pumping as I got in the driver’s seat and sped as fast as I could out of town.

I didn’t get very far. By that time, the highways were already packed with others trying to get out of the city. It wasn’t my car though. I just put it in park and hiked all the way to the countryside.

That’s when I met Alfonso. He was leading a group south towards a military safe-zone. Back then, there were still 40 of us; just enough to sound the dinner bell. 

A lot happened in the month that followed. Too much for me to mention now. Let’s just say that we’ve been through a lot.

There’s only 11 of us left. Alfonso is still here… but he’s also not all here.

Anyways, it’s about time to move out camp. I’m going to try and find another battery or two to keep this thing going. We're on our way to one of those warehouse stores that Linda knew about. Hopefully, it hasn't been picked clean just yet. Maybe there will be more electronics there to help my little diary... 

As long as I live that long.