In August of 2007 an Ohio man was bitten by a raccoon while working on his ranch. The raccoon was killed and tested for rabies. It was positive. The man was also suffering the early stages of the influenza virus.
Suffering with a high fever, the man was admitted to the hospital and given the rabies vaccination. Over the next two days the doctors tried to stabilize his condition, but in the end there was nothing they could do. The two viruses had combined and mutated into something they had never seen before. Less than 72 hours after the man had been bitten, he was dead. It could be said now, that he was one of the lucky ones.
In the two days the man lay in the hospital, he had managed to distribute the new virus and infect six hospital personnel. This is in addition to his wife, two children, his mother and father and his three siblings. The reproduction value for the initial virus was 14.
In finding new hosts, the virus had once again mutated, adapting to the human immune system. It took up to 48 hours to kill once infected, but less than 12 after death to re-animate.
When hospital staff and family members were themselves admitted, an inquiry was sent by the CDC. When the first patient died, the CDC sent an investigator. By the time the CDC agent arrived, it was already too late.
That was 45 days ago.
The virus has now spread to most of the eastern sea board. Washington D.C., New York, Chicago, Boston and Philadelphia were among the first to fall.
On day twenty, the government activated the National Guard and called for an immediate evacuation of all personnel and citizens east of the Mississippi river. I heard that eighteen million people made it across before they were forced to blow the bridges. I am not sure how many were left stranded on this side, but I do know the people on the west side watched as thousands on the east bank were slaughtered by the dead.
The armed services have created a blockade along the west bank of the Mississippi river. The area west of the river is known as the Safe Zone. For the most part it the blockade is working, but small pockets of the dead have been found in the Safe Zone. Scattered reports of the dead have also been coming in from as far away as California. Everyone is thinking the same thing, but no one talks about it.
We were told the President and key members of both houses have been moved to safe locations underground, but that was a month ago. All government communications from the eastern half of the United States have ceased, with only the occasional SWR broadcast.
The last news broad cast, 29 days ago, contained information from the CDC, HLSD and FEMA. The virus was no longer able to spread through the air. It was now solely transmitted through blood, saliva and mucus. The virus could not live outside of the body and when exposed to sunlight or oxygen, it died almost immediately. This meant that infection could only occur through direct skin contact with the bodily fluids of an infected person, ingestion or introduction into the bloodstream.
Fear and panic now rule the states and commerce has all but ground to a halt. Riots and looting have destroyed many of the businesses in the eastern time zone. Fires burn into the night, cities and streets are desolate except for the wake of chaos.
The United States has been cut off by the international community. There is no produce or goods of any kind shipped in or out. The U.N. has stated the risk of spreading the infection is too great and all participating nations voted to cut ties with America. Even our neighbors to the north and south have denied entry to Americans. Bridges and roads have been destroyed in the hopes of preventing infected persons from crossing the borders. Reports of soldiers shooting desperate Americans trying to cross into Canada and Mexico have been circulating. It would seem as if for now, America is on its own.
Scattered well inside the Quarantine Zone exist small pockets of people that have banded together for what little safety is to be had. Vastly outnumbered by the dead, their numbers dwindle with each passing day. Small renegade pockets have developed as well and as with any crisis there are those that would seek to take advantage of the weak. SWR transmissions report acts of atrocities and human on human crimes that pair only with acts committed in WWII and the following cold war.
The dead are everywhere. They retain a small piece of what makes us human and rely largely on what would make us nothing more than animals. They can see you; they can hear you and they can smell you. Those that have been dead the longest are slower and easier to evade, but the newly dead are still as fast and agile as a living person.
I have heard the dead seem to have some part of their memories in tact. Dead children will stay near their dead mothers. It has been reported that some dead have returned to their home from across a city or town and that they will attempt to open the doors of homes and cars or unlatch gates. Some people even reported that the dead were looking at pictures, or watching TV before they attacked.
I can’t say that I know any of these things to be true with any degree of certainty, but I do know they are dead, there are hundreds of thousands, if not millions of them and they kill and eat the living.
It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
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It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:08 am
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sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:10 am
Character 1:
Location – Kentucky, Bowling Green
Occupation – Truck Driver
Life Skills – Money, Hammer, Food (x1), Dog, Gun and hunting.
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediate Family – None.
Extended Family – Uncle in Kentucky, Williamsburg
Mission – Head southeast, find your uncle and get to safe zone.
It’s been two weeks since I decided to get out. The place I left was a good enough shelter, but I was running low on supplies. While I can’t say I made the right choice, I can say staying there wasn’t an option. It may turn out that I traded a slow, miserable death for a fast, gruesome one. We’ll see.
The dead are everywhere. They’re like ants crawling around and they can come out of nowhere fast. Traveling by car on the freeways is an exercise in futility and one that’ll surely get me killed sooner or later. The main roads are slightly better, and by slightly I mean not much.
I’ve been sticking mostly to back roads and side streets. Traveling this way doesn’t open up many possibilities for scavenging, but then again, it is a bit safer. The occasional farm house or service station I’ve come across doesn’t hold much in the way of supplies, but they do offer something. I have a few cans of people food and one can of dog food.
I left a few behind the other day for two reasons: Number one, because I lost my damn can opener somewhere and haven’t found another. Number two, because they didn’t have labels on them. The good part is, this food will stay good for a while, the bad part is, I can’t even eat it! So it may be that all this weight I’m carrying around will be a waste of time and energy. Who knows, at this point in time it’s all just a crap shoot anyways.
Non-canned food is scarce, but water is fairly easy to come by. Thank god for small favors I guess. I was able to stretch my ration of food I left the hideout with for a day and a half, but it’s been mostly slim. I’ve had a bag of chips, a squirrel, two robins’ eggs and a couple of candy bars in the last few days.
I’m tired. My body aches from the constant tension and stress. My feet are mostly sore and swollen and I think I have a hole in my sock. I haven’t looked today. I had to put a few new holes in my belt since this thing started. I guess if nothing else, I’m finally losing all that road weight. I’m trying to stay positive, but it sure isn’t easy these days.
Everyday is a struggle to survive, not just physically, but mentally. I have seen only a few survivors, mainly from a distance over these last few weeks. I don’t think we ever fully grasp the human need for companionship until we are faced with isolation. Those few times I’ve seen living people, I’ve wanted real bad to come out and talk to them.
That feeling of hopelessness is a horrible feeling. When you know just about everyone left is out for survival and everyone is just as bad, if not worse off as you. It’s a scary feeling that’ll put a few things into perspective. The drive and desire to survive, the self preservation instinct that kicks in when everything goes to hell is pretty damn powerful.
I know that not all of the people I’ve seen were bad, but how could I tell who was bad and who was good? The first time I saw people after I left, I was just about to hail them when someone else did. This group of five drove up to him and got out; they shot him and stripped him clean. I’ve heard of worse things being done too. Before the radios went down we heard reports of murder, rape and all kinds of things that man should not be doing to each other.
I would think that this situation would finally make us realize that we are all just one race-human.
Then again, we are human and when the chips are down, unfortunately some people can’t handle the pressure. I know of some pretty awful things that we have done to each other when we’ve been pushed or scared. I know that we as humans will most likely survive this thing, both good and bad people, but I don’t think we’ll ever be the same. There’s a whole world out there that’s terrified from not only what is happening, but what could happen. Scared people can do some really stupid things. I just hope a nation full of scared people doesn’t do something stupid, like send some big bombs over here.
This morning I came upon some of the dead eating a corpse. It was a young woman and the kill was fresh, maybe only an hour or two. Two months ago I would’ve been horrified and probably would’ve puked all over myself. Now though, it’s just another sad reminder of what humanity faces. We are no longer the apex predator on this planet.
As I sat and watched the dead eat her flesh I wondered what her name had been. I wondered if she had any family left or if she’d been alone. Surely, she must have been alone. Why would she have come out by herself? She was either alone, or those that were with her were dead also.
Maybe she was the last one? Maybe she ran trying to draw them away from the rest of her group? It didn’t matter, either way, she was now dead and aside from killing the dead that were eating her, there was nothing I could do to help. Even killing them wouldn’t help her, not now. It’s too bad she couldn’t have held on for another hour or so, because I could see from what they were eating, that she was pregnant.
Location – Kentucky, Bowling Green
Occupation – Truck Driver
Life Skills – Money, Hammer, Food (x1), Dog, Gun and hunting.
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediate Family – None.
Extended Family – Uncle in Kentucky, Williamsburg
Mission – Head southeast, find your uncle and get to safe zone.
It’s been two weeks since I decided to get out. The place I left was a good enough shelter, but I was running low on supplies. While I can’t say I made the right choice, I can say staying there wasn’t an option. It may turn out that I traded a slow, miserable death for a fast, gruesome one. We’ll see.
The dead are everywhere. They’re like ants crawling around and they can come out of nowhere fast. Traveling by car on the freeways is an exercise in futility and one that’ll surely get me killed sooner or later. The main roads are slightly better, and by slightly I mean not much.
I’ve been sticking mostly to back roads and side streets. Traveling this way doesn’t open up many possibilities for scavenging, but then again, it is a bit safer. The occasional farm house or service station I’ve come across doesn’t hold much in the way of supplies, but they do offer something. I have a few cans of people food and one can of dog food.
I left a few behind the other day for two reasons: Number one, because I lost my damn can opener somewhere and haven’t found another. Number two, because they didn’t have labels on them. The good part is, this food will stay good for a while, the bad part is, I can’t even eat it! So it may be that all this weight I’m carrying around will be a waste of time and energy. Who knows, at this point in time it’s all just a crap shoot anyways.
Non-canned food is scarce, but water is fairly easy to come by. Thank god for small favors I guess. I was able to stretch my ration of food I left the hideout with for a day and a half, but it’s been mostly slim. I’ve had a bag of chips, a squirrel, two robins’ eggs and a couple of candy bars in the last few days.
I’m tired. My body aches from the constant tension and stress. My feet are mostly sore and swollen and I think I have a hole in my sock. I haven’t looked today. I had to put a few new holes in my belt since this thing started. I guess if nothing else, I’m finally losing all that road weight. I’m trying to stay positive, but it sure isn’t easy these days.
Everyday is a struggle to survive, not just physically, but mentally. I have seen only a few survivors, mainly from a distance over these last few weeks. I don’t think we ever fully grasp the human need for companionship until we are faced with isolation. Those few times I’ve seen living people, I’ve wanted real bad to come out and talk to them.
That feeling of hopelessness is a horrible feeling. When you know just about everyone left is out for survival and everyone is just as bad, if not worse off as you. It’s a scary feeling that’ll put a few things into perspective. The drive and desire to survive, the self preservation instinct that kicks in when everything goes to hell is pretty damn powerful.
I know that not all of the people I’ve seen were bad, but how could I tell who was bad and who was good? The first time I saw people after I left, I was just about to hail them when someone else did. This group of five drove up to him and got out; they shot him and stripped him clean. I’ve heard of worse things being done too. Before the radios went down we heard reports of murder, rape and all kinds of things that man should not be doing to each other.
I would think that this situation would finally make us realize that we are all just one race-human.
Then again, we are human and when the chips are down, unfortunately some people can’t handle the pressure. I know of some pretty awful things that we have done to each other when we’ve been pushed or scared. I know that we as humans will most likely survive this thing, both good and bad people, but I don’t think we’ll ever be the same. There’s a whole world out there that’s terrified from not only what is happening, but what could happen. Scared people can do some really stupid things. I just hope a nation full of scared people doesn’t do something stupid, like send some big bombs over here.
This morning I came upon some of the dead eating a corpse. It was a young woman and the kill was fresh, maybe only an hour or two. Two months ago I would’ve been horrified and probably would’ve puked all over myself. Now though, it’s just another sad reminder of what humanity faces. We are no longer the apex predator on this planet.
As I sat and watched the dead eat her flesh I wondered what her name had been. I wondered if she had any family left or if she’d been alone. Surely, she must have been alone. Why would she have come out by herself? She was either alone, or those that were with her were dead also.
Maybe she was the last one? Maybe she ran trying to draw them away from the rest of her group? It didn’t matter, either way, she was now dead and aside from killing the dead that were eating her, there was nothing I could do to help. Even killing them wouldn’t help her, not now. It’s too bad she couldn’t have held on for another hour or so, because I could see from what they were eating, that she was pregnant.
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sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:12 am
Character 3:
Location – Maine, Patten
Occupation – Logger
Life Skills – Money, Motorcycle, Axe, Food (x4)
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediate Family – Pregnant Wife in Oregon
Extended Family – All in Oregon
Mission – Cross into Safe Zone and get to Oregon.
In retrospect, I think leaving the cabin might not have been the best idea. Aside from not having any food or a reliable source of water, it was a pretty comfy place and it was secure. Secure…that’s a relative term I think. I don’t think any human is secure these days and I don’t think any of us will be for some time.
The seasons change rapidly up here, much faster than they did back home. I think the major difference here is that they have seasons. In Oregon it was more like a cold and wet season then a colder and wetter season. I should have brought the bigger jacket.
It is cold now, colder than it was before and I think the first snow is right around the corner. Although I regret leaving most of the winter clothes behind, I am glad I didn’t head up into Canada. I’d probably be dead right now if I had. Either shot by the cops in funny hats, or turned into a meat Popsicle.
Even though I badly need supplies I’m avoiding all major cities and towns along the way. I think the risk of being eaten far outweighs the risk of finding something to eat. If nothing else I can always fill up on water. It hasn’t been all that bad though…I guess. It could always be worse…
Tomorrow at daybreak I’m moving again. I can’t stay in the same place for long, especially out here. Most nights I desperately want a fire, but unless I have something to cook, it can’t be risked. These days, where there is no sound from the city, no cars, trucks or planes to create noise, every little sound and smell travels farther than you would think. Something as quiet as the crackle and pop of the fire could be heard a good distance away.
The smoke as well is a risk. The dead may not know what it is, but they know it doesn’t smell dead and they come to it. Fire is a risk, cooking is a risk, taking a piss is a risk; just being alive in a god-damned-zombie-filled state is a risk! Everything is a risk in these days.
My nights are filled with thoughts of my wife and family back home. Before the lights went out we were getting reports, rumors that they were starting to see infected people out in southern California and Arizona. No one knew for sure if it had spread, but it was possible. The government had reported nothing of the kind, but I wouldn’t put it past them to bury those reports.
My wife is about seven months pregnant right now…if she’s still alive. She begged me not to leave. She wanted me to stay in Oregon and find some other kind of work, but when you have to go to work, sometimes that means going to where the work is.
I try not to let my mind wander too often. I try not to think of her or my family. I know I need hope, or something to look forward to, but what worries me are the distractions that come along with that hope. It’s those distractions that may one day get me killed. If that happens, then I’ll be no good to anybody.
My mind wanders mostly at night or when I’m on a lonely stretch of road. I can still see her face. I can still hear her voice and I see her crying. I can hear my child crying as well and then I have to block it all out. If I don’t then I’ll end up falling over in a heap of tears and slobbery mess.
There’s always something else to think about. The next move always needs to be planned, especially in these times. You have to have a plan and you have to be able to think that plan through. Staying alive doesn’t just mean planning your next move, it means planning your next three moves and then planning what you’ll do if you can’t do one of them. And always, there is planning a way out.
Sometimes you have to steel your mind against what did, could or will happen. That usually means stuffing all those happy faces in your memory, into a dark corner somewhere. Somewhere they will be safe, and you will be safe as well. There’s a time and a place for certain things. But scavenging a house with three of the dead wandering outside is not the time, nor the place for tender thoughts.
In times of war, soldiers have told stories of pretending their families back home were dead, or that they never existed. They did this because they knew that if they allowed anything to distract them; they might not make it home. Some soldiers didn’t answer letters from home or even carry pictures with them.
My mind and the guilt I feel are at constant war with each other. I try not to blame myself for not being there, but sometimes I can’t keep it away. How could I have known this would happen? How could anyone have known? I just hope and pray that I’m not too late. That I’m lucky enough to see my wife again and that I can be around to protect her…and my son.
Location – Maine, Patten
Occupation – Logger
Life Skills – Money, Motorcycle, Axe, Food (x4)
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediate Family – Pregnant Wife in Oregon
Extended Family – All in Oregon
Mission – Cross into Safe Zone and get to Oregon.
In retrospect, I think leaving the cabin might not have been the best idea. Aside from not having any food or a reliable source of water, it was a pretty comfy place and it was secure. Secure…that’s a relative term I think. I don’t think any human is secure these days and I don’t think any of us will be for some time.
The seasons change rapidly up here, much faster than they did back home. I think the major difference here is that they have seasons. In Oregon it was more like a cold and wet season then a colder and wetter season. I should have brought the bigger jacket.
It is cold now, colder than it was before and I think the first snow is right around the corner. Although I regret leaving most of the winter clothes behind, I am glad I didn’t head up into Canada. I’d probably be dead right now if I had. Either shot by the cops in funny hats, or turned into a meat Popsicle.
Even though I badly need supplies I’m avoiding all major cities and towns along the way. I think the risk of being eaten far outweighs the risk of finding something to eat. If nothing else I can always fill up on water. It hasn’t been all that bad though…I guess. It could always be worse…
Tomorrow at daybreak I’m moving again. I can’t stay in the same place for long, especially out here. Most nights I desperately want a fire, but unless I have something to cook, it can’t be risked. These days, where there is no sound from the city, no cars, trucks or planes to create noise, every little sound and smell travels farther than you would think. Something as quiet as the crackle and pop of the fire could be heard a good distance away.
The smoke as well is a risk. The dead may not know what it is, but they know it doesn’t smell dead and they come to it. Fire is a risk, cooking is a risk, taking a piss is a risk; just being alive in a god-damned-zombie-filled state is a risk! Everything is a risk in these days.
My nights are filled with thoughts of my wife and family back home. Before the lights went out we were getting reports, rumors that they were starting to see infected people out in southern California and Arizona. No one knew for sure if it had spread, but it was possible. The government had reported nothing of the kind, but I wouldn’t put it past them to bury those reports.
My wife is about seven months pregnant right now…if she’s still alive. She begged me not to leave. She wanted me to stay in Oregon and find some other kind of work, but when you have to go to work, sometimes that means going to where the work is.
I try not to let my mind wander too often. I try not to think of her or my family. I know I need hope, or something to look forward to, but what worries me are the distractions that come along with that hope. It’s those distractions that may one day get me killed. If that happens, then I’ll be no good to anybody.
My mind wanders mostly at night or when I’m on a lonely stretch of road. I can still see her face. I can still hear her voice and I see her crying. I can hear my child crying as well and then I have to block it all out. If I don’t then I’ll end up falling over in a heap of tears and slobbery mess.
There’s always something else to think about. The next move always needs to be planned, especially in these times. You have to have a plan and you have to be able to think that plan through. Staying alive doesn’t just mean planning your next move, it means planning your next three moves and then planning what you’ll do if you can’t do one of them. And always, there is planning a way out.
Sometimes you have to steel your mind against what did, could or will happen. That usually means stuffing all those happy faces in your memory, into a dark corner somewhere. Somewhere they will be safe, and you will be safe as well. There’s a time and a place for certain things. But scavenging a house with three of the dead wandering outside is not the time, nor the place for tender thoughts.
In times of war, soldiers have told stories of pretending their families back home were dead, or that they never existed. They did this because they knew that if they allowed anything to distract them; they might not make it home. Some soldiers didn’t answer letters from home or even carry pictures with them.
My mind and the guilt I feel are at constant war with each other. I try not to blame myself for not being there, but sometimes I can’t keep it away. How could I have known this would happen? How could anyone have known? I just hope and pray that I’m not too late. That I’m lucky enough to see my wife again and that I can be around to protect her…and my son.
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sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:13 am
Character 2:
Location – New York, New York City
Occupation – Police Officer
Life Skills – Money, Gun, Radio, Food (x2) and Map.
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediately Family – None
Extended Family – None.
Mission – Collect three survivors and get to safe zone.
There’s a big storm off the coast. I can’t see it yet, but I know it’s there. I can feel it in the wind. Living in the city for so long you kind of become de-sensitized to the weather and nature, but I’m amazed at how fast it comes back when all the distractions are removed. When there’s nothing but silence to greet you every minute.
At first, in some sort of sick way, I missed the loud noise and chaos of the city, but now, now I can’t see ever wanting to go back to it. I’m still stuck in the city, but it’s a different beast altogether now. The skyscrapers are still here. The lights and monuments are still here, standing as tall and ominous as ever, but they seem slightly humbled today.
I get the feeling they somehow know they’ll never be as great as they once were. They know that they can only be as great as the people who built and gazed in awe upon them could say and think they were. And now, except for a small number of people, there’s no one to behold them.
I was born and raised in New York. Not in the city, but still I’m a native son and I used to love this state, this city. In a way I still do, but it’s now just a mere shadow of what it used to be. Down just about every street or on every corner there’s a memory of some kind. I know this place like the back of my hand, being a cop in the city for seven years will do that. It’ll also give you that slight accent you hear…used to hear in all the movies.
Even though I love this city, my first instinct was to get the hell out of here. I stayed though, until I couldn’t stay any longer. When I finally did leave, I scavenged the station for what I could. It wasn’t a hell of a lot, but I didn’t have many options. I needed to be quiet and get out of the building in a hurry. Grabbing what I could see I left the building without any shooting. Unfortunately, the trade-off for a quick and quiet getaway was that I couldn’t spend the time getting anything really good.
Aside from a few cans of food, a bag of chips and a soda I didn’t have much to eat. I kept my radio and took a spare battery, just in case. I had, and still have no idea if anyone will be broadcasting, but it may come in handy. I kept my gun of course and a spare clip, but after the shit started, guns and ammo were hard to come by. I have 24 rounds in the two clips…and one in my pocket.
I never thought about being anything other than a cop. My grandpa was a cop, my dad was a cop and my brother and I were cops. Just about every man in my family, on my dad’s side, was a cop of some kind. Me and the old man got to serve together for a bit. He walked me through the blue wall, just as his dad had done for him and just as I did for my brother.
Some nights I lay awake and wonder, if we had never been cops would things have turned out the way they did? If my dad were here he’d probably smack me for thinking it. One of the last things he said to me was, “You go do your duty, you’re one of New York’s finest. Go help your brothers and sisters out there. Your mom and I will be fine.” Two days later he shot her. Then he shot himself.
My brother and I survived and did what we could for another three weeks. We were holed up inside the station with one other guy, a civilian. For a while we were doing okay. We had food and a supply of water, we had some guns and ammo and the building was fairly secure. In hindsight it was kind of stupid of us, but we’d play target practice with some of the slobs out there. Then we started running low on ammo and the dead were coming in larger numbers.
None of us slept well with the constant banging and screams or whatever from the dead. The stress was starting to take its toll on all of us. Then one day, the guy just snapped. He ran to the front of the station, opened the door and started shooting. It happened so fast Jake and I didn’t have time to react. One minute the guy is fine and the next he is standing outside shooting zombies, and then he’s screaming because they’re ripping him apart.
We did what we could, but there was only one way out and that was up. I went first and my brother covered with a shotgun. When I had the roof hatch opened I yelled to him to get moving. He turned and ran for the ladder, shooting as he came. He dropped the gun and jumped up for the ladder then started climbing; he was almost to the top when he was grabbed. He fell three rungs and started to climb again when he was bit in the leg. I can remember his scream and me shooting the fucking zombie in the head, but I can’t remember how we got to the roof.
We stayed up there for two days. His leg was bad and I did what I could, but I’m not a doctor. We talked about mom and dad and the stupid things we did when we were kids. We talked about our favorite girls, the academy and our craziest arrests. It was nice to just sit and talk to him, I don’t know if we’d ever done that.
On the morning of day three, I shot him in the head. I Love you, Jake.
Location – New York, New York City
Occupation – Police Officer
Life Skills – Money, Gun, Radio, Food (x2) and Map.
Bonus – pocket contents: TBA
Immediately Family – None
Extended Family – None.
Mission – Collect three survivors and get to safe zone.
There’s a big storm off the coast. I can’t see it yet, but I know it’s there. I can feel it in the wind. Living in the city for so long you kind of become de-sensitized to the weather and nature, but I’m amazed at how fast it comes back when all the distractions are removed. When there’s nothing but silence to greet you every minute.
At first, in some sort of sick way, I missed the loud noise and chaos of the city, but now, now I can’t see ever wanting to go back to it. I’m still stuck in the city, but it’s a different beast altogether now. The skyscrapers are still here. The lights and monuments are still here, standing as tall and ominous as ever, but they seem slightly humbled today.
I get the feeling they somehow know they’ll never be as great as they once were. They know that they can only be as great as the people who built and gazed in awe upon them could say and think they were. And now, except for a small number of people, there’s no one to behold them.
I was born and raised in New York. Not in the city, but still I’m a native son and I used to love this state, this city. In a way I still do, but it’s now just a mere shadow of what it used to be. Down just about every street or on every corner there’s a memory of some kind. I know this place like the back of my hand, being a cop in the city for seven years will do that. It’ll also give you that slight accent you hear…used to hear in all the movies.
Even though I love this city, my first instinct was to get the hell out of here. I stayed though, until I couldn’t stay any longer. When I finally did leave, I scavenged the station for what I could. It wasn’t a hell of a lot, but I didn’t have many options. I needed to be quiet and get out of the building in a hurry. Grabbing what I could see I left the building without any shooting. Unfortunately, the trade-off for a quick and quiet getaway was that I couldn’t spend the time getting anything really good.
Aside from a few cans of food, a bag of chips and a soda I didn’t have much to eat. I kept my radio and took a spare battery, just in case. I had, and still have no idea if anyone will be broadcasting, but it may come in handy. I kept my gun of course and a spare clip, but after the shit started, guns and ammo were hard to come by. I have 24 rounds in the two clips…and one in my pocket.
I never thought about being anything other than a cop. My grandpa was a cop, my dad was a cop and my brother and I were cops. Just about every man in my family, on my dad’s side, was a cop of some kind. Me and the old man got to serve together for a bit. He walked me through the blue wall, just as his dad had done for him and just as I did for my brother.
Some nights I lay awake and wonder, if we had never been cops would things have turned out the way they did? If my dad were here he’d probably smack me for thinking it. One of the last things he said to me was, “You go do your duty, you’re one of New York’s finest. Go help your brothers and sisters out there. Your mom and I will be fine.” Two days later he shot her. Then he shot himself.
My brother and I survived and did what we could for another three weeks. We were holed up inside the station with one other guy, a civilian. For a while we were doing okay. We had food and a supply of water, we had some guns and ammo and the building was fairly secure. In hindsight it was kind of stupid of us, but we’d play target practice with some of the slobs out there. Then we started running low on ammo and the dead were coming in larger numbers.
None of us slept well with the constant banging and screams or whatever from the dead. The stress was starting to take its toll on all of us. Then one day, the guy just snapped. He ran to the front of the station, opened the door and started shooting. It happened so fast Jake and I didn’t have time to react. One minute the guy is fine and the next he is standing outside shooting zombies, and then he’s screaming because they’re ripping him apart.
We did what we could, but there was only one way out and that was up. I went first and my brother covered with a shotgun. When I had the roof hatch opened I yelled to him to get moving. He turned and ran for the ladder, shooting as he came. He dropped the gun and jumped up for the ladder then started climbing; he was almost to the top when he was grabbed. He fell three rungs and started to climb again when he was bit in the leg. I can remember his scream and me shooting the fucking zombie in the head, but I can’t remember how we got to the roof.
We stayed up there for two days. His leg was bad and I did what I could, but I’m not a doctor. We talked about mom and dad and the stupid things we did when we were kids. We talked about our favorite girls, the academy and our craziest arrests. It was nice to just sit and talk to him, I don’t know if we’d ever done that.
On the morning of day three, I shot him in the head. I Love you, Jake.
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sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:15 am
Day 16
Kentucky
“Morning sweetie, what can I get you?”
“Morning Ma’am, I’d like a coffee first, then the special. Eggs over easy.”
“Sure thing, I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
I’ve been on the road for six weeks now. This is the last run of my trip and with any luck I should be back home in a few days. I could use a couple weeks off. Being on the road this much tends to wear on you.
My route started six weeks ago with a drop in Salt Lake and a pick in Provo. From there it was a drop here and a pick there, mostly snaking across the country from north to south. I’m a week behind schedule and the trip shouldn’t have taken this long, but there were a lot of military trucks on the roads.
From what I hear there is something happening in Ohio, but no one is sure exactly what it is. The president sure isn’t talking about it, but the military is definitely out and about. Chatter over the radio thinks it can’t be that big of a deal, because they are still dropping loads in and out of the state.
I don’t watch the news much, preferring to stay un-informed rather than misinformed. I honestly have no clue as to what is happening up there, maybe a dam broke, maybe some people are rioting, maybe the browns are playing free games, who knows. I do know that my last stop is in Kentucky, which is right below Ohio so hopefully there won’t be anymore delays.
“Here’s your coffee. Cream and sugar are right there if you need it. Your order should be up in a bit.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
The hot shower this morning was nice and since I probably won’t get one tonight, I enjoyed it just a bit longer than I normally would have. Right now I’m sitting in a truck stop diner in the town of Butler, Missouri. As the crow flies I’m about two-hundred miles east of the Kentucky border, but the way I have to travel puts me closer to five hundred than two.
It’s kind of nice, just sitting here. The clank of dishes in the background mingled with the sound of grease popping and chatter makes it feel almost like home. It’s still fairly warm outside here, but the weather man is saying that in a few days things should start to cool down a bit. That’s good; it should get the deer moving around a bit.
There’s seven people in here other than myself, the waitress and the cook. I’m sure there’s a dishwasher in the back, but I haven’t seen him. Four of the patrons look just like me, or my type, long haul drivers. There’s an older couple in a booth by the window and one solo guy eating pancakes and reading the paper.
The older couple is typical, cute in an old traditional couple sort of way. I’m sure they were high school sweethearts and married right after graduation. My parents were like that. They were married for fifty six years before my dad passed. My dad was only a few months older than my mom, but he lived a hard life filled with hard work, sunshine, rain and plenty of aches and pains.
My mom died less than six months after he did. They were both too young, but they said they had lived long enough to see their son grow up to be a man. They were proud of me, this I knew, but I didn’t much know why. I hadn’t done anything spectacular with my life; I just tried to be a good person is all. It was good enough for them.
My mom had a rough time being pregnant with me and she nearly died bringing me into this world. They never spoke of it much, but I think it’s why they never had any more kids. Most of the time I like being an only child, but I do admit, it would be nice to have someone else in the world like me…or at least someone that had the same parents.
I used to joke with my mom and dad saying that if they did have another child, that he would probably be the good one. I’d apologize for them having to be stuck with me, but my mom would just smile and tell me that she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was nice like that, she could find some good in anything and she always wanted to believe in that proverbial silver lining. My dad always said things like, “I don’t need it to be great, just don’t let it be terrible.” They were good people and I miss them most days.
“Can you believe this? That whole state is going crazy. I tell you, I think it’s the communist. They’ve infiltrated our government and now look what they’re doing to Ohio!”
“What’s that?”
“What do you mean, haven’t you been listening to the news? There’s something going in Ohio. The governor has mobilized the Ohio National Guard and declared a state of emergency for the Dayton area. People are being asked to limit travel in to or out of the city and state. It’s crazy; I ain’t ever seen anything like it.”
“I ain’t really heard much about it. There has been some talk on the road about some trouble there, but I don’t listen to the news. They get it wrong half the time anyways.”
“Ma’am can you turn this up a bit please?”
All five drivers and the waitress were now looking at the screen. I moved two seats closer just as the lady with the microphone started to speak.
“We are getting scattered reports based on eyewitness accounts. No one really knows what is happening in the city of Dayton, but the governor has now declared it a disaster area and has activated the National Guard. As you can see from the convoy behind me they have wasted no time in getting here.
The governor has also asked that residents both in and outside of the city, limit their travel to help keep the roads open and clear for the troops. Triage centers have been set up at various locations around the city and the Red Cross is expected to be on site as well. All schools within the three adjoining counties have been closed for the time being and parents are being asked to keep their children home and inside until further notice.
Very few businesses remain open today and only a handful of gas stations in the area have gas. Sales for bottled water have skyrocketed as have purchases of ammunition, freeze dried and non perishable foods. The mayor released a statement earlier today saying that the local government was doing everything within its power to address the situation and that people need to remain calm, keep their dignity and wits about them.
“I want to assure the people of Dayton that we are doing everything possible to insure the situation is handled in the most efficient and effective manner possible. We have a great team assembled and working on this and I urge all residents to remain calm and allow authorities to do their job. I also ask that all citizens think before they act. The last thing we want is a panicked overreaction to a contained situation. We are all in this together and we all have to live with each other and ourselves when this is over.”
“During the press conference the mayor would not take any questions and when asked what exactly the situation or crisis was, he said that he could ‘Not answer that at this time.’
Unconfirmed sources tell us that the crisis has spread to outlying towns and neighborhoods and that there has been a military presence for two days in the towns of Miamisburg and Kettering. We have been unable to verify these claims as all major roads and freeways into the area have been blocked by the National Guard and only authorized personnel are being allowed in at this time.
What we do know at this time is this:
A major crisis of some kind is affecting the greater Dayton Ohio area.
The governor has declared a state of emergency for the area.
The National Guard has been activated.
All roads in or out of the area have been blocked.
They are only allowing authorized personnel into the area.
The CDC has been involved extensively over the last few days.
All school districts in the area have been ordered to suspend school temporarily.
People are being asked to not travel, to keep children and pets indoors and to stay calm.
The president has extended an offer for Federal resources should they be needed.
This is Jill Scolin reporting live from just outside of Dayton Ohio, Back to you in the studio.”
“See, I told you. Communists.”
“Communists my ass, someone probably drove a tanker truck into some rich guys house is all. Don’t get all worked up over nothing. I’m sure this will all be over in another few hours.”
I went back to my coffee while the two drivers argued back and forth about whether or not Cuba and China had invaded Dayton. I doubted it was communists, but it was a pretty weird situation. I have never heard of the National Guard being called in to keep people inside of an area. They usually get called when we want to get people out.
My parents were of the firm belief that it did no good to speculate on things you don’t know about. It was better to just keep your mouth shut and see how things turned out. After all, a closed mouth gathers no foot.
I’m not sure how long I was lost in my own thoughts, but the sound of a bell brought me out of it. I looked up to see the waitress bring my plate over. She had the coffee pot in the other hand and refilled my cup. She said to let her know if I needed anything else and walked back towards the TV. I looked down at my plate and realized that I was really hungry all of a sudden. For the next ten minutes you couldn’t have pried me away from that plate with a chain and a tractor.
Kentucky
“Morning sweetie, what can I get you?”
“Morning Ma’am, I’d like a coffee first, then the special. Eggs over easy.”
“Sure thing, I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
I’ve been on the road for six weeks now. This is the last run of my trip and with any luck I should be back home in a few days. I could use a couple weeks off. Being on the road this much tends to wear on you.
My route started six weeks ago with a drop in Salt Lake and a pick in Provo. From there it was a drop here and a pick there, mostly snaking across the country from north to south. I’m a week behind schedule and the trip shouldn’t have taken this long, but there were a lot of military trucks on the roads.
From what I hear there is something happening in Ohio, but no one is sure exactly what it is. The president sure isn’t talking about it, but the military is definitely out and about. Chatter over the radio thinks it can’t be that big of a deal, because they are still dropping loads in and out of the state.
I don’t watch the news much, preferring to stay un-informed rather than misinformed. I honestly have no clue as to what is happening up there, maybe a dam broke, maybe some people are rioting, maybe the browns are playing free games, who knows. I do know that my last stop is in Kentucky, which is right below Ohio so hopefully there won’t be anymore delays.
“Here’s your coffee. Cream and sugar are right there if you need it. Your order should be up in a bit.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
The hot shower this morning was nice and since I probably won’t get one tonight, I enjoyed it just a bit longer than I normally would have. Right now I’m sitting in a truck stop diner in the town of Butler, Missouri. As the crow flies I’m about two-hundred miles east of the Kentucky border, but the way I have to travel puts me closer to five hundred than two.
It’s kind of nice, just sitting here. The clank of dishes in the background mingled with the sound of grease popping and chatter makes it feel almost like home. It’s still fairly warm outside here, but the weather man is saying that in a few days things should start to cool down a bit. That’s good; it should get the deer moving around a bit.
There’s seven people in here other than myself, the waitress and the cook. I’m sure there’s a dishwasher in the back, but I haven’t seen him. Four of the patrons look just like me, or my type, long haul drivers. There’s an older couple in a booth by the window and one solo guy eating pancakes and reading the paper.
The older couple is typical, cute in an old traditional couple sort of way. I’m sure they were high school sweethearts and married right after graduation. My parents were like that. They were married for fifty six years before my dad passed. My dad was only a few months older than my mom, but he lived a hard life filled with hard work, sunshine, rain and plenty of aches and pains.
My mom died less than six months after he did. They were both too young, but they said they had lived long enough to see their son grow up to be a man. They were proud of me, this I knew, but I didn’t much know why. I hadn’t done anything spectacular with my life; I just tried to be a good person is all. It was good enough for them.
My mom had a rough time being pregnant with me and she nearly died bringing me into this world. They never spoke of it much, but I think it’s why they never had any more kids. Most of the time I like being an only child, but I do admit, it would be nice to have someone else in the world like me…or at least someone that had the same parents.
I used to joke with my mom and dad saying that if they did have another child, that he would probably be the good one. I’d apologize for them having to be stuck with me, but my mom would just smile and tell me that she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was nice like that, she could find some good in anything and she always wanted to believe in that proverbial silver lining. My dad always said things like, “I don’t need it to be great, just don’t let it be terrible.” They were good people and I miss them most days.
“Can you believe this? That whole state is going crazy. I tell you, I think it’s the communist. They’ve infiltrated our government and now look what they’re doing to Ohio!”
“What’s that?”
“What do you mean, haven’t you been listening to the news? There’s something going in Ohio. The governor has mobilized the Ohio National Guard and declared a state of emergency for the Dayton area. People are being asked to limit travel in to or out of the city and state. It’s crazy; I ain’t ever seen anything like it.”
“I ain’t really heard much about it. There has been some talk on the road about some trouble there, but I don’t listen to the news. They get it wrong half the time anyways.”
“Ma’am can you turn this up a bit please?”
All five drivers and the waitress were now looking at the screen. I moved two seats closer just as the lady with the microphone started to speak.
“We are getting scattered reports based on eyewitness accounts. No one really knows what is happening in the city of Dayton, but the governor has now declared it a disaster area and has activated the National Guard. As you can see from the convoy behind me they have wasted no time in getting here.
The governor has also asked that residents both in and outside of the city, limit their travel to help keep the roads open and clear for the troops. Triage centers have been set up at various locations around the city and the Red Cross is expected to be on site as well. All schools within the three adjoining counties have been closed for the time being and parents are being asked to keep their children home and inside until further notice.
Very few businesses remain open today and only a handful of gas stations in the area have gas. Sales for bottled water have skyrocketed as have purchases of ammunition, freeze dried and non perishable foods. The mayor released a statement earlier today saying that the local government was doing everything within its power to address the situation and that people need to remain calm, keep their dignity and wits about them.
“I want to assure the people of Dayton that we are doing everything possible to insure the situation is handled in the most efficient and effective manner possible. We have a great team assembled and working on this and I urge all residents to remain calm and allow authorities to do their job. I also ask that all citizens think before they act. The last thing we want is a panicked overreaction to a contained situation. We are all in this together and we all have to live with each other and ourselves when this is over.”
“During the press conference the mayor would not take any questions and when asked what exactly the situation or crisis was, he said that he could ‘Not answer that at this time.’
Unconfirmed sources tell us that the crisis has spread to outlying towns and neighborhoods and that there has been a military presence for two days in the towns of Miamisburg and Kettering. We have been unable to verify these claims as all major roads and freeways into the area have been blocked by the National Guard and only authorized personnel are being allowed in at this time.
What we do know at this time is this:
A major crisis of some kind is affecting the greater Dayton Ohio area.
The governor has declared a state of emergency for the area.
The National Guard has been activated.
All roads in or out of the area have been blocked.
They are only allowing authorized personnel into the area.
The CDC has been involved extensively over the last few days.
All school districts in the area have been ordered to suspend school temporarily.
People are being asked to not travel, to keep children and pets indoors and to stay calm.
The president has extended an offer for Federal resources should they be needed.
This is Jill Scolin reporting live from just outside of Dayton Ohio, Back to you in the studio.”
“See, I told you. Communists.”
“Communists my ass, someone probably drove a tanker truck into some rich guys house is all. Don’t get all worked up over nothing. I’m sure this will all be over in another few hours.”
I went back to my coffee while the two drivers argued back and forth about whether or not Cuba and China had invaded Dayton. I doubted it was communists, but it was a pretty weird situation. I have never heard of the National Guard being called in to keep people inside of an area. They usually get called when we want to get people out.
My parents were of the firm belief that it did no good to speculate on things you don’t know about. It was better to just keep your mouth shut and see how things turned out. After all, a closed mouth gathers no foot.
I’m not sure how long I was lost in my own thoughts, but the sound of a bell brought me out of it. I looked up to see the waitress bring my plate over. She had the coffee pot in the other hand and refilled my cup. She said to let her know if I needed anything else and walked back towards the TV. I looked down at my plate and realized that I was really hungry all of a sudden. For the next ten minutes you couldn’t have pried me away from that plate with a chain and a tractor.
-
sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:16 am
Maine
Someone asked me a while back why I do what I do for a living. They asked me why I didn’t just find a desk job, or at least something a little safer. If they could be here with me right now, seeing what I am seeing, they would understand. My wife understands, to some degree, but she wouldn’t mind if I did get a desk job.
I like the smell of pine in the morning, the smell of dew on the ground and the moss growing everywhere, it’s like nothing else. I tell people that I get to sit in god’s country everyday, that I get to see beauty that is only comparable to my wife. That always goes over well with her.
It is true, I’ll admit, this job is dangerous and I have lost a few friends to injury and worse, but it pays well and there is an inherent danger in just about everything these days. I like to think that if I am going to go, let it at least be in one of two places: Next to my wife and family or out here. Preferably out here, next to my wife and family.
When I said my wife understood to some degree why I do this job and why I love it, I didn’t mean to infer that she liked it. She understands only as far as she knows we need the money and that if I started a new job, it may take years to get back up to the level of pay I am making now. Still, she loves me and doesn’t want to see me get hurt.
The majority of the jobs we work are close to home, in Oregon, but every so often there will be an out of state job. They can be nice; I get to see some new country, make a couple of bucks and the jobs usually pay a bit more. I think my wife tolerates the job because most of the time I am so close to home. I know she doesn’t like it when I leave for a week or two, but she usually doesn’t say anything.
There was a job a while back in Alaska that she didn’t want me to take, because she thought that I might get eaten by a grizzly. But when I told her it was in an area that was not known to have any grizzlies, she calmed down a bit. I think it helped that I would make in three weeks what I usually make in four months too. But she won’t admit that.
This job was different though. She did not want me to take it, even for one week. She said she had a bad feeling about it and though I tried to calm her down and reason with her, she would have none of it. The job was a bit farther than I had traveled away from her, but it was only for four weeks. I tried to tell her that this job would pay enough to support us for six months and that if I worked again in that time we could just put that money away. I said we needed to think about things like that with the baby on the way.
I think that is the reason she didn’t want me to go in the first place. She was about five months pregnant then, or twenty-two weeks or something. Her answer to all my points was the same, “It won’t do us any good if you’re not around.” Though I did agree with her on that, I couldn’t pass up the job.
I talked to her a few days ago. On jobs like these we usually stay in tents or campers right near the job site, that doesn’t allow for many luxuries and it very rarely allows for a cell phone signal. At least once on the weekend we try to get into the nearest town to wash clothes, eat real food and call loved ones. It works out more often than not, but sometimes the weather can be an issue.
Speaking of weather, it sure is nice here. It’s almost like being back in Oregon, but it’s different at the same time. The nights are colder here, but the days are not all filled with rain and clouds. The air is just as clear and the country just as, if not more beautiful than back home. I like it here and if there was steady work to be had; I might like to move here one day.
I say one day, but it will probably never happen. Not unless I suddenly become rich or Maine changes their views on logging. Steady work can be a tough thing to find here, for a logger anyways. If I really wanted to live here, I guess I could always try my hand at being a lobster fisherman.
I am sure that I will live out my years in Oregon with my family, but it might be nice to have some land somewhere else, just for a change of pace and scenery. Maybe someplace warm like Arizona or New Mexico.
This job was only supposed to last four weeks, but we’ve been here for three and a half. Luckily for us, we got the okay to work a new tract of land to the west. We got the news yesterday and I know she won’t be happy about it when I call her this weekend.
The plus side, it’s more money and the job should take us a week at most, if we work seven days. That means I would be home about ten days later than originally planned. Five grand for ten days, I’ll take it.
The down side, I will be home ten days later than originally planned. No biggie, she can handle it. Besides, our parents are close if she needs anything.
Tomorrow is Wednesday and we start on the southern most part of this tract. It looks like good timber from our camp, but it is going to be hard work. The road the mill made doesn’t go anywhere near that section and it’s pretty steep terrain. I am looking forward to it, but at the same time I am not.
A steep remote piece of land usually means humping in your gear and gas, then humping it back out at the end of the day. It also makes it slightly more dangerous because our rigging lines will be strung out farther and the anchor point will be lower. It’s also a risk to the guys, because if someone gets hurt, it will take a while to get them out.
We do what we have to though. I love the sound of the saw and the smell of fresh wood. It’s a great smell, a clean smell and one that I wouldn’t trade for any kind of desk job, ever. I would rather have my dangerous outdoor job with all its sights, sounds and smells than a safe desk job with nothing but a pine scented air freshener and a grey wall to stare at all day.
Man I am tired. I think I am going to pass out now. Tomorrow is going to be another rough day and I need some sleep. I think I can stretch my clothes to Saturday, but if not, oh well; it’s not like anyone will complain. And I’m already going to hear enough complaining this weekend.
Seriously, I’m going to bed now. I don’t know why I still keep these journals anyways, it’s not like anyone will ever read them…
…………………….
It’s Saturday night and we just got back from town. The phone lines were down and the guy at the Laundromat said the power had been going out all day. I couldn’t call Stacey and no one could get a cell phone signal. I’m a little worried, but only because I know I’m going to catch hell when I finally do talk to her.
The lady at the diner said there was something going on in Ohio, but no one was sure what it was. She said the National Guard had been called in, but the governor and mayor were trying to assure everyone that the situation was under control.
I asked her what she had heard and about what the National Guard was doing. They had apparently set up road blocks just outside of three Ohio cities. I told her that we couldn’t get a signal for our phones and asked if she thought the two were related.
She said, “Honey, anytime you have to call in the National Guard, the situation is already out of control. Ohio is kind of a quirky state anyways. Let’s hope they keep their problems in their own state.”
One of my buddies said,
“It’s a good thing we are way up here then, huh?”
“Is it?”
Someone asked me a while back why I do what I do for a living. They asked me why I didn’t just find a desk job, or at least something a little safer. If they could be here with me right now, seeing what I am seeing, they would understand. My wife understands, to some degree, but she wouldn’t mind if I did get a desk job.
I like the smell of pine in the morning, the smell of dew on the ground and the moss growing everywhere, it’s like nothing else. I tell people that I get to sit in god’s country everyday, that I get to see beauty that is only comparable to my wife. That always goes over well with her.
It is true, I’ll admit, this job is dangerous and I have lost a few friends to injury and worse, but it pays well and there is an inherent danger in just about everything these days. I like to think that if I am going to go, let it at least be in one of two places: Next to my wife and family or out here. Preferably out here, next to my wife and family.
When I said my wife understood to some degree why I do this job and why I love it, I didn’t mean to infer that she liked it. She understands only as far as she knows we need the money and that if I started a new job, it may take years to get back up to the level of pay I am making now. Still, she loves me and doesn’t want to see me get hurt.
The majority of the jobs we work are close to home, in Oregon, but every so often there will be an out of state job. They can be nice; I get to see some new country, make a couple of bucks and the jobs usually pay a bit more. I think my wife tolerates the job because most of the time I am so close to home. I know she doesn’t like it when I leave for a week or two, but she usually doesn’t say anything.
There was a job a while back in Alaska that she didn’t want me to take, because she thought that I might get eaten by a grizzly. But when I told her it was in an area that was not known to have any grizzlies, she calmed down a bit. I think it helped that I would make in three weeks what I usually make in four months too. But she won’t admit that.
This job was different though. She did not want me to take it, even for one week. She said she had a bad feeling about it and though I tried to calm her down and reason with her, she would have none of it. The job was a bit farther than I had traveled away from her, but it was only for four weeks. I tried to tell her that this job would pay enough to support us for six months and that if I worked again in that time we could just put that money away. I said we needed to think about things like that with the baby on the way.
I think that is the reason she didn’t want me to go in the first place. She was about five months pregnant then, or twenty-two weeks or something. Her answer to all my points was the same, “It won’t do us any good if you’re not around.” Though I did agree with her on that, I couldn’t pass up the job.
I talked to her a few days ago. On jobs like these we usually stay in tents or campers right near the job site, that doesn’t allow for many luxuries and it very rarely allows for a cell phone signal. At least once on the weekend we try to get into the nearest town to wash clothes, eat real food and call loved ones. It works out more often than not, but sometimes the weather can be an issue.
Speaking of weather, it sure is nice here. It’s almost like being back in Oregon, but it’s different at the same time. The nights are colder here, but the days are not all filled with rain and clouds. The air is just as clear and the country just as, if not more beautiful than back home. I like it here and if there was steady work to be had; I might like to move here one day.
I say one day, but it will probably never happen. Not unless I suddenly become rich or Maine changes their views on logging. Steady work can be a tough thing to find here, for a logger anyways. If I really wanted to live here, I guess I could always try my hand at being a lobster fisherman.
I am sure that I will live out my years in Oregon with my family, but it might be nice to have some land somewhere else, just for a change of pace and scenery. Maybe someplace warm like Arizona or New Mexico.
This job was only supposed to last four weeks, but we’ve been here for three and a half. Luckily for us, we got the okay to work a new tract of land to the west. We got the news yesterday and I know she won’t be happy about it when I call her this weekend.
The plus side, it’s more money and the job should take us a week at most, if we work seven days. That means I would be home about ten days later than originally planned. Five grand for ten days, I’ll take it.
The down side, I will be home ten days later than originally planned. No biggie, she can handle it. Besides, our parents are close if she needs anything.
Tomorrow is Wednesday and we start on the southern most part of this tract. It looks like good timber from our camp, but it is going to be hard work. The road the mill made doesn’t go anywhere near that section and it’s pretty steep terrain. I am looking forward to it, but at the same time I am not.
A steep remote piece of land usually means humping in your gear and gas, then humping it back out at the end of the day. It also makes it slightly more dangerous because our rigging lines will be strung out farther and the anchor point will be lower. It’s also a risk to the guys, because if someone gets hurt, it will take a while to get them out.
We do what we have to though. I love the sound of the saw and the smell of fresh wood. It’s a great smell, a clean smell and one that I wouldn’t trade for any kind of desk job, ever. I would rather have my dangerous outdoor job with all its sights, sounds and smells than a safe desk job with nothing but a pine scented air freshener and a grey wall to stare at all day.
Man I am tired. I think I am going to pass out now. Tomorrow is going to be another rough day and I need some sleep. I think I can stretch my clothes to Saturday, but if not, oh well; it’s not like anyone will complain. And I’m already going to hear enough complaining this weekend.
Seriously, I’m going to bed now. I don’t know why I still keep these journals anyways, it’s not like anyone will ever read them…
…………………….
It’s Saturday night and we just got back from town. The phone lines were down and the guy at the Laundromat said the power had been going out all day. I couldn’t call Stacey and no one could get a cell phone signal. I’m a little worried, but only because I know I’m going to catch hell when I finally do talk to her.
The lady at the diner said there was something going on in Ohio, but no one was sure what it was. She said the National Guard had been called in, but the governor and mayor were trying to assure everyone that the situation was under control.
I asked her what she had heard and about what the National Guard was doing. They had apparently set up road blocks just outside of three Ohio cities. I told her that we couldn’t get a signal for our phones and asked if she thought the two were related.
She said, “Honey, anytime you have to call in the National Guard, the situation is already out of control. Ohio is kind of a quirky state anyways. Let’s hope they keep their problems in their own state.”
One of my buddies said,
“It’s a good thing we are way up here then, huh?”
“Is it?”
-
sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:17 am
New York
“So I was yelling at this guy, ‘show me your fucking hands’ and this idiot pulls his hands out of his jacket and what do you think he has? A friggin dildo! No bullshit. I asked Marie if she wanted to confiscate it, she said no. Because she knew I liked the big ones!”
“That’s hilarious! So this guy was really running around poking women with it? I wonder how many of them liked it.”
“Ya I know, Maggie loves hers. Most of the time she says she doesn’t even need me.
Hey how was your parent’s thing today? How long they been married, forty something years right?”
“Forty-two and it was good. Kind of boring, but it was good. You know, my dad is this kind of hard ass and my mom’s always trying to get him to do touchy feely kind of stuff. He really doesn’t go for it, but he does it to make her happy.”
“They’re good together you know? Your mom and dad, it’s nice to see people still making it after all these years. I hope me and Maggie can hit forty-two years. Hell, I’ll be happy if we hit twenty-two years.
You ready for another one? I got this round, order up. I’ll be back in a minute, I gotta take a leak.”
Forty-two years was a long time. My dad met my mom just after high school. He was just about to sign up for the academy and said he almost didn’t because of her. It’s hard to imagine my old man not being anything other than a cop. Then again it’s hard to imagine anything other than my dad with my mom.
She’s a good women, he’s always saying that. He says things like she always deserved better than him, but she loved him anyways. It’s kind of cute in an old people sort of way. Of course, my old man, never the one to show any sign of being soft would make it into a joke somehow. She could see right through him though, and in these recent years, so could I.
My brother Jake is more like her. Of the two of us, he’s the more sensitive type. I’m not saying he is a whining baby, but he’s just a bit less calloused and cynical than I am. It’s probably because he hasn’t been a cop as long as I have. But even still, he’s always been more likely to show more of his emotions than I would.
I take after my old man in that the only emotion I show is anger or happiness. I like to laugh at a good joke, or at someone else’s misfortune, but I’m also more hot headed than Jake. He’s always saying things like, “Relax bro, you’re gonna have a heart attack one of these days.”
That may be, but I’m not going to go down without a fight. I think that may be my downfall someday. I am always ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and sometimes I am willing to drop the hat.
Jake's not like that, he’s a lot calmer than I am. He’s always got a level head and he can work his way out of almost any situation. Now when I say he’s the sensitive one I don’t mean that he’s a sissy. You can’t be a cop in this city and be a sissy la-la.
Jake's a bad ass, but he’s a smart, calm bad ass. There was a robbery down on 138th and a cop had been shot. The guys were still inside the store shooting and they had the wounded cop pinned down. They had a few cops pinned down and they wouldn’t let rescue go in and get the cop.
Jake is there and he’s still a rookie, you know. Instead of running back like some of the other guys did, he opened the trunk of the cruiser and took out a can of WD40. Then he takes this can and throws it through the window of the store.
As the guys inside were talking shit saying, “Is that the best you can do cop? We’re gonna kill you all!”, Jake stands up and shoots the can. It explodes and hits one guy. The other guy is all messed up from the concussion and Jake runs up, grabs the cop and drags him back to his car where the paramedics can get to him.
He was a real hero that day and we were all proud of him. That was the day I realized that my brother would be a better cop than I would. He just had his way you know? Most of the kids liked him and he was the kind of guy that could walk into a domestic violence call and convince the guy to come out and walk to the car-without handcuffs.
I’m not going to go so far as to say he was the favorite, but he was the baby and my parents treated him and me differently. Not in a bad way or anything like that, but it was just different. My dad too, he was a little…gentler with Jake than he was with me. Probably because I pissed him off more, seeing as how I was so much like him.
I know he loves my mom very much, more than anything you could say. And Jake, being more like her, I guess he naturally felt that if he hurt Jake, he was hurting her too. It never bothered either one of us and we never threw it in each others faces. We did though; use it to our mutual advantage sometimes.
“Jesus Christ! What, did you go to Brooklyn to take a piss or what?”
“Nah, Maggie called and I had to step out back to check the message.”
“Everything okay? Did she tell you that you left your balls in her purse?”
“This fucking guy. No, she asked if I could get some ice cream on the way home.
“Hey can you believe this crazy shit that’s happening in Ohio? Mike’s brother, you know Mike, from the night shift right?”
“Big Mike or Mikey?”
“No, no, Mikey. Well his brother has a friend in Ohio and he was telling him that they got tanks and soldiers and all kinds of shit. They got three cities, three whole fucking cities blocked off so no one can get in or out. This is crazy shit man.”
“Ya I did hear something about it. My mom has been following it for a few days. She said the news isn’t really being told much beyond what the National Guard is doing there, but she said the CDC has been there for like a week or something.”
“The CDC? That’s crazy. You know there’s some bad shit happening if the CDC is there.”
“Ya really, huh. Well whatever, as long as they keep all that shit in their own state I don’t really care what happens.”
“Hey, speaking of little shits, where’s your brother?”
“Oh, he said he had a thing and that he might be here later.”
“A thing after a thing huh? Busy guy I guess. A thing or a she?”
“Knowing him, it’s probably both. He probably went to a thing to pick up a she.”
“Five bucks says she’s blonde.”
“Deal. Jake likes brunettes.”
“So I was yelling at this guy, ‘show me your fucking hands’ and this idiot pulls his hands out of his jacket and what do you think he has? A friggin dildo! No bullshit. I asked Marie if she wanted to confiscate it, she said no. Because she knew I liked the big ones!”
“That’s hilarious! So this guy was really running around poking women with it? I wonder how many of them liked it.”
“Ya I know, Maggie loves hers. Most of the time she says she doesn’t even need me.
Hey how was your parent’s thing today? How long they been married, forty something years right?”
“Forty-two and it was good. Kind of boring, but it was good. You know, my dad is this kind of hard ass and my mom’s always trying to get him to do touchy feely kind of stuff. He really doesn’t go for it, but he does it to make her happy.”
“They’re good together you know? Your mom and dad, it’s nice to see people still making it after all these years. I hope me and Maggie can hit forty-two years. Hell, I’ll be happy if we hit twenty-two years.
You ready for another one? I got this round, order up. I’ll be back in a minute, I gotta take a leak.”
Forty-two years was a long time. My dad met my mom just after high school. He was just about to sign up for the academy and said he almost didn’t because of her. It’s hard to imagine my old man not being anything other than a cop. Then again it’s hard to imagine anything other than my dad with my mom.
She’s a good women, he’s always saying that. He says things like she always deserved better than him, but she loved him anyways. It’s kind of cute in an old people sort of way. Of course, my old man, never the one to show any sign of being soft would make it into a joke somehow. She could see right through him though, and in these recent years, so could I.
My brother Jake is more like her. Of the two of us, he’s the more sensitive type. I’m not saying he is a whining baby, but he’s just a bit less calloused and cynical than I am. It’s probably because he hasn’t been a cop as long as I have. But even still, he’s always been more likely to show more of his emotions than I would.
I take after my old man in that the only emotion I show is anger or happiness. I like to laugh at a good joke, or at someone else’s misfortune, but I’m also more hot headed than Jake. He’s always saying things like, “Relax bro, you’re gonna have a heart attack one of these days.”
That may be, but I’m not going to go down without a fight. I think that may be my downfall someday. I am always ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and sometimes I am willing to drop the hat.
Jake's not like that, he’s a lot calmer than I am. He’s always got a level head and he can work his way out of almost any situation. Now when I say he’s the sensitive one I don’t mean that he’s a sissy. You can’t be a cop in this city and be a sissy la-la.
Jake's a bad ass, but he’s a smart, calm bad ass. There was a robbery down on 138th and a cop had been shot. The guys were still inside the store shooting and they had the wounded cop pinned down. They had a few cops pinned down and they wouldn’t let rescue go in and get the cop.
Jake is there and he’s still a rookie, you know. Instead of running back like some of the other guys did, he opened the trunk of the cruiser and took out a can of WD40. Then he takes this can and throws it through the window of the store.
As the guys inside were talking shit saying, “Is that the best you can do cop? We’re gonna kill you all!”, Jake stands up and shoots the can. It explodes and hits one guy. The other guy is all messed up from the concussion and Jake runs up, grabs the cop and drags him back to his car where the paramedics can get to him.
He was a real hero that day and we were all proud of him. That was the day I realized that my brother would be a better cop than I would. He just had his way you know? Most of the kids liked him and he was the kind of guy that could walk into a domestic violence call and convince the guy to come out and walk to the car-without handcuffs.
I’m not going to go so far as to say he was the favorite, but he was the baby and my parents treated him and me differently. Not in a bad way or anything like that, but it was just different. My dad too, he was a little…gentler with Jake than he was with me. Probably because I pissed him off more, seeing as how I was so much like him.
I know he loves my mom very much, more than anything you could say. And Jake, being more like her, I guess he naturally felt that if he hurt Jake, he was hurting her too. It never bothered either one of us and we never threw it in each others faces. We did though; use it to our mutual advantage sometimes.
“Jesus Christ! What, did you go to Brooklyn to take a piss or what?”
“Nah, Maggie called and I had to step out back to check the message.”
“Everything okay? Did she tell you that you left your balls in her purse?”
“This fucking guy. No, she asked if I could get some ice cream on the way home.
“Hey can you believe this crazy shit that’s happening in Ohio? Mike’s brother, you know Mike, from the night shift right?”
“Big Mike or Mikey?”
“No, no, Mikey. Well his brother has a friend in Ohio and he was telling him that they got tanks and soldiers and all kinds of shit. They got three cities, three whole fucking cities blocked off so no one can get in or out. This is crazy shit man.”
“Ya I did hear something about it. My mom has been following it for a few days. She said the news isn’t really being told much beyond what the National Guard is doing there, but she said the CDC has been there for like a week or something.”
“The CDC? That’s crazy. You know there’s some bad shit happening if the CDC is there.”
“Ya really, huh. Well whatever, as long as they keep all that shit in their own state I don’t really care what happens.”
“Hey, speaking of little shits, where’s your brother?”
“Oh, he said he had a thing and that he might be here later.”
“A thing after a thing huh? Busy guy I guess. A thing or a she?”
“Knowing him, it’s probably both. He probably went to a thing to pick up a she.”
“Five bucks says she’s blonde.”
“Deal. Jake likes brunettes.”
-
sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 12:17 am
Ohio
“Ow, shit!”
“What, what happened?”
“Something Bit me god damn it!”
“Where, what do you mean? An animal or a spider?”
“No, it was an animal, look at my hand.”
“Oh yeah, he got you pretty good dad. Did you see it?”
“No, but it’s right under there and it’s about to be dead. Go get my .22.”
“Alright, but after that we need to clean that thing up.”
“Just hurry up with that rifle will ya.”
“Oh yeah, it’s a raccoon dad. Hang on a minute. Sorry fella, but you can’t be doing things like biting people for no good reason.
Ok, hold this and let me pull him out.”
“Geez son, what kind of shot was that? He’s still alive”
“It’s dark under there and his back was to me.”
“Well shoot him again and put him out of his misery. I don’t want no animal to suffer, even if it did bite me.”
“Look at him. Look at his mouth; he shouldn’t have that white foam around there. If I lunged him it would be sort of pinkish. This is kind of white dad. We should probably have him checked.”
“Yeah I guess so. Come on, let’s go back to the house so I can clean this first.”
“Alright. Hey how was Dale? Mom said you went to check on him the other day?”
“Oh he’s fine. I got kind of worried when he didn’t come to service on Sunday. He said he just had the flu and wasn’t feeling up to it. Your mom took him some soup when she went to see Darlene.”
“Good, glad he’s okay. Does mom have any of that soup left?”
“I think so, you know you mom doesn’t make a little bit of anything. I’ll have her send some home with you when you leave.”
“Ok, I’m gonna get my truck and take this coon to Janice and see if she can have it checked out. I’ll be back after a while, pop.”
“Alright.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Hey Sue.”
“Well hey James, how’re you? What can we do for you?”
“Is Janice in today? I need her to take a look at something real quick.”
“Yes, she’s just getting some medication for a mare that came in last night. She should be up in a minute. What do you have?
“I got a coon that bit my dad a while ago. It doesn’t look right, so I was wondering if she could look at it and maybe test it.”
“Uh-oh. Okay, let me see if she is done yet.
Hey Janice, are you still busy? Little Jim is here and he has something he wants you to look at. Ok, I’ll let him know.
Two minutes.”
“Alright. Should I bring it in?”
“No, not yet, she may want you to take it around back. If there is something wrong with it, we don’t want to track it through the lobby.”
“That’s a good point. Good thing I didn’t put it on the front seat then huh?”
...................................................................................
“Well Hey Jim, how’re you doing sweetie?”
“I’m good Janice, thank you.”
“Lynn, says you got something you want me to look at?”
“Yeah, it’s in the back of the truck. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Well, you shot it and I don’t think I can do anything for it now.”
“Yeah, sorry, I kinda had to. It bit my dad in the hand real good and it was kinda in a place it shouldn’t have been you know? But after I pulled it out I thought it didn’t look quite right. I figured I would bring it here and see what you thought.”
“Do you know what it was doing before your dad got bit? Was there anything it was eating or drinking?”
“No, I’m not really sure, but I didn’t see anything else under the bench with it.”
“Okay. Well just looking at it won’t tell me much, but the mouth does look like it has a little too much saliva around it. Drive it around back and I will meet you there with some gloves and a bag.”
“Will do.”
“Ow, shit!”
“What, what happened?”
“Something Bit me god damn it!”
“Where, what do you mean? An animal or a spider?”
“No, it was an animal, look at my hand.”
“Oh yeah, he got you pretty good dad. Did you see it?”
“No, but it’s right under there and it’s about to be dead. Go get my .22.”
“Alright, but after that we need to clean that thing up.”
“Just hurry up with that rifle will ya.”
“Oh yeah, it’s a raccoon dad. Hang on a minute. Sorry fella, but you can’t be doing things like biting people for no good reason.
Ok, hold this and let me pull him out.”
“Geez son, what kind of shot was that? He’s still alive”
“It’s dark under there and his back was to me.”
“Well shoot him again and put him out of his misery. I don’t want no animal to suffer, even if it did bite me.”
“Look at him. Look at his mouth; he shouldn’t have that white foam around there. If I lunged him it would be sort of pinkish. This is kind of white dad. We should probably have him checked.”
“Yeah I guess so. Come on, let’s go back to the house so I can clean this first.”
“Alright. Hey how was Dale? Mom said you went to check on him the other day?”
“Oh he’s fine. I got kind of worried when he didn’t come to service on Sunday. He said he just had the flu and wasn’t feeling up to it. Your mom took him some soup when she went to see Darlene.”
“Good, glad he’s okay. Does mom have any of that soup left?”
“I think so, you know you mom doesn’t make a little bit of anything. I’ll have her send some home with you when you leave.”
“Ok, I’m gonna get my truck and take this coon to Janice and see if she can have it checked out. I’ll be back after a while, pop.”
“Alright.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Hey Sue.”
“Well hey James, how’re you? What can we do for you?”
“Is Janice in today? I need her to take a look at something real quick.”
“Yes, she’s just getting some medication for a mare that came in last night. She should be up in a minute. What do you have?
“I got a coon that bit my dad a while ago. It doesn’t look right, so I was wondering if she could look at it and maybe test it.”
“Uh-oh. Okay, let me see if she is done yet.
Hey Janice, are you still busy? Little Jim is here and he has something he wants you to look at. Ok, I’ll let him know.
Two minutes.”
“Alright. Should I bring it in?”
“No, not yet, she may want you to take it around back. If there is something wrong with it, we don’t want to track it through the lobby.”
“That’s a good point. Good thing I didn’t put it on the front seat then huh?”
...................................................................................
“Well Hey Jim, how’re you doing sweetie?”
“I’m good Janice, thank you.”
“Lynn, says you got something you want me to look at?”
“Yeah, it’s in the back of the truck. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Well, you shot it and I don’t think I can do anything for it now.”
“Yeah, sorry, I kinda had to. It bit my dad in the hand real good and it was kinda in a place it shouldn’t have been you know? But after I pulled it out I thought it didn’t look quite right. I figured I would bring it here and see what you thought.”
“Do you know what it was doing before your dad got bit? Was there anything it was eating or drinking?”
“No, I’m not really sure, but I didn’t see anything else under the bench with it.”
“Okay. Well just looking at it won’t tell me much, but the mouth does look like it has a little too much saliva around it. Drive it around back and I will meet you there with some gloves and a bag.”
“Will do.”
Last edited by sehoner on Thu Nov 10, 2011 10:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by Shanna_Redwind » Thu Nov 10, 2011 8:58 pm
Great start!
I like the three separate viewpoints. It's going to be fun to see how their stories will intertwine (or not).
I like the three separate viewpoints. It's going to be fun to see how their stories will intertwine (or not).
Online Post Apocalyptic Fiction An index of stories from around the net.
Awesome Online Zombie Stories An index of zombie stories from around the net.
Awesome Online Zombie Stories An index of zombie stories from around the net.
- Shanna_Redwind
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- Posts: 30
- Joined: Wed May 11, 2011 10:11 pm
Re: It's Not The Isolation That Kills You
by sehoner » Thu Nov 10, 2011 10:36 pm
Thanks Shanna! It originally started as the storyline to a game, but it has evolved into something more.
We will see how it all plays out over the next few days.
Rich
We will see how it all plays out over the next few days.
Rich
-
sehoner - Posts: 17
- Joined: Tue Nov 08, 2011 12:12 am
- Location: Elk Grove
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