Entry 432
It’s been almost two weeks since I saw Simon. I hadn’t been down to River Rd. yet, so I went to get some supplies. Saw an old Metallica shirt hanging on one of the gas pumps. I guess I figured he was the last person in the world still wearing that type of thing, but apparently not. It didn’t smell like him at all. He always wore that cologne for whatever reason. I never really understood why he wore it, but it’s never been my place to ask. He certainly had his way about him.
Nothing found at the gas station to eat. Food is becoming more and more difficult to come by. The garden hasn’t produced like Simon thought it would. I grabbed up some bandages, Tylenol, and gauze. Went back in the freezer areas and there was nothing but spoiled milk. Horrible smell. All the beer had been taken a long time ago. Found some lighter fluid by the cash register and left.
Back in the tent now before heading out for another look. Feeling kind of weak. Haven’t really been eating much lately. Need to nap before heading out. The problem with sleeping during the day is the holes in the tent. Need to find a tarp to patch it up with. Always something to do. Some of the day-to-day stuff was easier with Simon, but it was another mouth to feed.
I still can’t believe that anything has happened to him. He’s a tough son of a gun. I wonder if he felt it was time for us to both be on our own again. Maybe he went down to that school? Doesn’t really seem like him, but maybe it’s just time for him to stop ripping and running. I couldn’t blame him. He’s getting old. Maybe it’s time to stop looking for him. Either way I’m going to sleep for a bit.
Entry 433
Just got up from the nap. I can’t give up on him. I’m heading out to find him. Hopefully I come across some goods too. I need something to turn this around.
Xavier went further into the book.
Entry 611
Found Simon. I wasn’t really looking for him at this point. Had pretty much written him off. Figured he would have found me by now if he were alive. A terrible loss of life. He taught me a lot. A very special man. His service to the country before the virus was extraordinary. I won’t let his memory go to waste. I’ll find a way to honor him some day. He was stuffed inside a freezer at Kroger. Still had his hat and pants on. No shoes.
On a more positive note, the trip wasn’t a complete loss. Found some chips, pop and scraped some peanuts off the floor. I also found some money. Not that it’s worth anything, just thought it was kind of cool. I’ll probably use it to start a fire tonight. I’m so rich I can burn money now.
I’ve been scouting the area looking for better shelter. That dead-end street that I’ve been watching for a while still seems like a safe bet, nothing goes on there. Haven’t seen anyone come or go in several weeks. I’ve checked through all the houses for signs of living. Nothing yet, so I’m thinking of moving in. A house will be easier to defend and store goods. Simon always thought it would be best to keep moving, but I’m finding that not to be the case.
Still further.
Entry 653
I’m completely committed to the house now. It’s cleaned up. It looks good. Feels like a home. The only problem is the garage door. It’s stuck and won’t budge at all. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but I’m afraid to damage it. I don’t want to permanently shut it. It’s been much easier to maintain that one door off the garage. I boarded up the first floor windows and screwed the doors shut. I’ll leave the second floor windows as they are. It keeps it a bit cooler up here. I have a good vantage point from the front and back, and if anyone comes in, I’ll be able to hear them before they get to me. This whole street looks completely destroyed. Not sure anyone will ever come back.
I found a pallet of unlabeled cans in the back of a box truck today. Found it abandoned in the middle of the woods on some service road I guess no one knew about. I’m going to have to make several trips to get it all, but it will be worth it. I now have a safe place to store a bunch of stuff like that.
In the immediate future, I need to build a smoker and start a garden. Once I get the smoker finished, I’ll be able to hunt for deer. Any squirrel or rabbit I can eat in one meal, but a deer would be way too much. I’ll try my hand at a garden again. I’ll need to find a greenhouse or Home Depot or whatever to find some seeds. It may be difficult this late in the game. It’s possible a lot of that stuff has already been grabbed up.
The last entry.
Entry 664
Downed a deer today but was unable to retrieve it. I was really excited and became careless trying to go for it. Walked right out in the middle of the field. Very stupid. I heard the cracks from the wood line. Got shot in the arm and ran. Saw two people dressed in all black chasing after me. Wrapped my arm up tight, so they couldn’t track me. I lost them in the woods and made my way back home.
I tried to clean myself up in the basement. Used a bit of bleach on the outside of the wound. It was very diluted, but still burned like hell. I didn’t have anything else though. The shot went through and through. I can still feel everything okay. Just need to keep it clean, and it should heal. If not, I might have to go to the school for help. I can’t stitch it up myself. I’ve never done them any harm. Ran into them here and there, but it’s always been good.
I’m more worried about the folks that came after me today. Never seen them before. They were dressed in all black. The two of them seemed more concerned with hunting me than taking the deer. I would have just let them have it if that’s what they wanted. I hope they don’t find me. I’m not trying to start a war. Not sure I have it in me to kill someone. I just want to live in peace.
He rotated the book in his hand, impressed with the details of what he held. This is how history would be told. Through these tiny records of individuals, the world could be pieced together. How different of a life the author had lived compared to Xavier. Yet, here in his hand he was linked to the owner. By simply stepping foot in this home, he was part of this person’s web.
He slid his finger along the edges of the cream-colored pages, letting them glide from one cover to the other. The shuffling jumped abruptly in the middle—something stuffed deep into the gutter of the book. Two photographs. One a Polaroid, one not. He took the photos, but stuffed the journal in his pack.
The Polaroid was of a homely, thirty-something-year-old woman seated in a rocking chair holding a small child. Her smile was genuine, honestly beautiful. A tight bun held her brown hair back from her eyes. An unfortunate nose stuck prominently in the middle of her face. The boy didn’t care. He looked up—a gaze of unconditional love for his mother. Xavier closed his eyes hard for a moment and then opened. He turned the photo over and read aloud, “I love you, Teddy. Mom.”
The other photo was… Simon? Sure enough, it was him, a rather risqué photograph of him and another. The girl, more than likely in her teens, maybe high school or just entering college, with her bra falling off, and Simon pulling at it with a sensual bite. Her brown hair flowing over her shoulders, messy and playful. Her finger hung from between her teeth. Who took this? Xavier checked the back.
Sweet Teddy,
For a memory of better times.