Day 71

I suppose I never said who I was. In years to come, if this mess ever straightens itself out, I suppose it would be a good idea for there to be a name to this story.

I guess you can just call me “the writer,” but, by name, I went by Hiram Donahue. Not a very great name, I know. So, let’s just stick with, “the writer.” I was an investigative journalist before it hit the fan.

Well, until recently. I lost my job and was on the hunt once more. Call it the decline of print media, or whatever else. I guess that’s why I’m so adverse to writing with paper. Paper kind of put me out of business. It might be a better idea to do the old pen-and-paper, but I just can’t bring myself to scratch out anything coherent on a pad. Hopefully, there will one day be a means for me to print this out.

Or, for someone else to print it out if I’m…

Anyways, Alfonso and the rest of us were staying in a parking garage of an old office complex outside of Dallas. He has been the ringleader since our exodus, but has been a little… off lately. In the old world, he was an MMA coach, making him particularly skilled at getting us through those… things.

Of course, losing over 20 people in the course of sixty days can weigh on a person’s confidence.

Anyways, Laurence, a former truck driver, came back from the office complex, where he had been scouting with news that a hoard was on the way. That’s why we had to leave. So, we packed up what little we had and made out way north.

But the hoard caught up with us and Laurence wanted to be a hero.

Now, there’s only 10 of us: 

1. Myself, the writer.
2. Alfonso, the MMA coach.
3. Linda, the mail carrier.
4. Eugene, the computer programmer.
5. Kyle, the unemployed “entrepreneur.”
6. Miranda, the waitress and fiancé of our Kyle.
7. Derek, the school teacher.
8. Boris, his son (who hates his name).
9. Jenny, the retiree.
10. And Vlad. I’d rather not say much about Vlad. Let’s just say that I don’t think that Vlad is his real name.

We arrived at a warehouse that Linda knew about. She used to deliver mail in this old industrial park. Most of the buildings were abandoned, but the warehouse was used for housing freezer meats.

I know what you’re thinking; food jackpot.

But, it wasn’t that glorious. A lot of the meat had spoiled after so long without refrigeration. Some of those… things got in and tainted some more of it. We took care of them and salvaged enough meats for the lot of us to have a few days of meals before it spoils.

Anyways, we’re fortifying here until we can make a decision about what to do next.

In the meantime, I’m going to see if I can find some dry socks.