The Dystopian Diaries

by K. W. Callahan

  I wonder if I should take Miles with me when I go. While he’s no fearless attack dog, he’s fairly protective of me. And he might add a little intimidation factor to my presence. But maybe I don’t want to intimidate this person or people. I’m not really sure how I’ll approach this potential meeting. Guess I’ll just have to sleep on it and hope the answer comes to me in a dream.

  8:49 p.m.

  Gosh, I didn’t think I’d be writing so much. But after being out here by myself for a couple weeks now, no phone, no internet, no cable…I’m sort of embarrassed to admit that I’m starting to feel a little lonely. And Miles isn’t the best of conversationalists.

  The quiet solitude of nature is kind of nice after living in the hectic rat race for so long, but at times, it can be a little creepy too. You’d think that I’d be used to it by now, and I kind of am. I feel much more comfortable than I did when I first arrived. It’s not the idea of wood wraiths or anything like that. It’s more the idea of other humans that concerns me.

  Sometimes I swear I hear someone out in the woods around my camp. Then, usually a raccoon or a squirrel or something will make its presence known.

  I think my own mind is the most dangerous thing out here. It sometimes has me jumping at shadows when I should know better. No matter how much I reason things out, sometimes I still feel like a kid again, afraid of all those childhood monsters lurking in the forest – especially at night.

  I wish I had more guns. I’d feel so much better. Stupid mainstream media, always making me feel guilty about buying a firearm. Huh! Bet the media pundits are kicking themselves now! Come to think of it, they’re probably all dead now. Only reason I owned a gun is because I got Dad’s when he passed.

  God this is weird. I can’t fully describe what it’s like being out here with the world potentially falling apart around me. What if this is truly it? Can civilization come back? Is someone out there working to remedy all this? Sometimes it’s kind of cool feeling like I’m the last man on earth, but most of the time, it’s just terrifying as hell.

  Depressing thoughts. Okay. I’m learning. When the depressing thoughts start coming, it’s time to be done writing and do something productive around camp to take my mind off things.

  September 18th

  8:24 a.m.

  Breakfast this morning was dry granola cereal, an apple I picked the other day, and water. Not too exciting, I know, but it did the trick.

  On the weather front – wow! It cooled off dramatically over night!

  Today’s goals:

  Come up with some sort of longer term plan. If society is really and truly shot for the time being, I’m going to need a game plan of some sort.

  Stock up on more firewood. If I’m stuck here until fall, or God forbid even winter, I’m going to need lots and lots of wood.

  Start scouting the club. If I have any hope of eventually venturing into town, I’m going to need to start filling in the gaps on what the world is like around the club first.

  Those are the big three for the moment. Of course stuff like conserving food, being on the lookout for more food sources, and stuff like that is on the list too, but those are fairly constant.

  I still have a decent amount of supplies that I brought with me, and I’m continuing to catch fish to supplement my diet, so I’m far from starving at this point. I’ve been collecting things like dandelion greens and cattail roots (it’s too late in the season to eat the shoots, but the roots can be boiled and eaten) to extend my meals as well. Can make for good filler, especially in soups and stews.

  More than anything, I’d like to at least attempt to re-establish contact with the outside world just to find out what things are like outside the club. I’d like to know if any sort of group has been formed to put some order to things. Who knows, maybe Woodcrest has got their shit together. I doubt it, but you never know.

  6:33 p.m.

  Okay, I made some pretty good progress on my goals today, if I do say so myself. I pooled several of my wood caches and brought several others up to camp. I’d say I have enough here at camp now for at least a week. My other wood stashes could last me a couple more weeks, maybe a month depending on weather.

  I made a big cloth bag that I carry with me when I walk. I fill it with wood that I find any time I venture outside camp on scavenging missions or just while on walks with Miles. I can fit a pretty sizeable supply of broken up wood inside my sack. This tends to make my walks productive and my life around camp easier.

  I have to say that at this point I thought I would be missing the city environment more than I am. But something about living in the forest is very calming. It’s definitely a harder life, a lonelier life, but it some ways, it’s more rewarding. And I tend to make friends easily out here.

  There is a squirrel that comes by daily. I leave him little bits of cereal or nuts on a stump right outside my tent. I just have to watch Miles – he might eat poor Squirrelly (that’s what I’ve named him) given the chance. But most of the time, Miles seems to be enviously watching Squirrelly’s food more than Squirrelly himself.

  There is a big fat robin who sings outside my tent each morning. He’s as good as an alarm clock. And the other night, I even thought I caught the sound of a whippoorwill across the lake, although I could be mistaken. Then there are my ants. Their home is about 20 feet from my tent, a big hill I accidentally kicked one day while bringing up some wood to camp. While I apologized profusely for my errant foot, they still exacted their revenge later that day, making a raid on my cooler and the camp table I have erected for cooking on. But we’ve made up since then. I usually take my crumbs leftover from any meals and dump them right beside their hill home. I could just dump it right on top, but knowing the ants, they wouldn’t like it if I made it too easy on them. They like to work. And keeping them busy at THEIR home keeps them from straying too far into MINE. While I can’t see the expressions on their little ant faces, I’m sure that with winter approaching, they are grateful to have the bounty of my giant leftovers to fill their labyrinth of subterranean storerooms. Now if only some giant would come drop food from the sky for me – as long as he didn’t accidentally kick my camp in the process.

  So now some more about my goals, another of which was somewhat fulfilled when I conducted a scavenging mission around the front of the club.

  Since, for privacy reasons I didn’t want to drive my car (although I did start it on my way out of camp just to keep the battery charged), I had to make the multi-mile trek back to the front of the club on foot. I kept mostly to the woods beside the roads. This kept my visibility to anyone who might see me to a minimum, but it also slowed my progress substantially.

  It took me a while, but eventually I made it all the way to the club’s main entrance. And from what I saw, the place is a complete ghost town…or ghost CLUB if you will. No one was around. The main entrance gates were still closed. There were no vehicles passing on the main road outside the club. And since I’d left Miles back at camp, I hung around for a while, almost half an hour just to make sure that I was indeed alone here. I didn’t see a single soul.

  I felt bad about leaving my buddy behind. I know he hates being tied up. But I didn’t want to chance him barking along the way and potentially giving away our presence. Looking back on it now, it probably would have been fine since no one was around anyway, but I didn’t know that initially.

  I rigged a pretty nice little set up for him here at camp while I was gone. I had to tether him to a tree beside our tent, since I feared he’d try to follow me or run off while I was gone. And I didn’t want to zipper him up inside the tent because he might do his business in there or tear his way out; then we’d be without a home. But I left the tent flaps unzipped, and I made the line tethering Miles to the tree long enough so that he could go in and out of the tent as he pleased.

  So while I was hanging around the deserted club entrance, it suddenly hit me that I hadn’t checked the snack bar near the club’s swimming area. But considering t
hat my hand is about to cramp up and fall off, and I’m kind of tired from my trek, I’ll write more about that later.

  9:37 p.m.

  The light across the lake was there again tonight. I decided to try to make contact, but by the time I got around to the other side of the lake, the light was gone.

  I think that tomorrow, I’ll head over there around nine and just hang out. I hope I don’t give the poor person a heart attack with my presence, but I think I should try to establish some sort of relationship with them. Without my radio reports, I’m really starting to feel like I’m in the dark here. It didn’t bother me as much at first, but after seeing how abandoned things looked around the club today, I’m really starting to get concerned. It’s amazing how quickly nature is beginning to take over. The weeds are starting to grow in the roads. Branches and tree limbs are down all over the place. The grass is long from going uncut in spots. The place is growing wilder by the day, and I don’t think that it will take long for nature to overcome the efforts of man around here.

  I think the reality of this situation is finally hitting home. Having been out here for almost two weeks, I’ve been largely isolated from what has apparently been going on. I think it’s time for a reality check.

  September 19th

  10:24 a.m.

  I have a feeling that I’m REALLY going to be sick of fish by the time this thing is done with. That’s why I guess it’s good I went out on my mission to the front of the club.

  So back to that.

  As I was writing yesterday, I decided that since I’d walked all the way to the club entrance, I might as well make the most of my trek. Therefore, I made my way as stealthily as I could over to where a cinderblock building, containing the beach bathrooms, changing rooms, and snack bar are all located. There, I found everything locked up tight (as I expected). But after a few well-placed strikes to the door lock with a sizeable rock, I was able to access the snack bar and its connecting storeroom.

  While I didn’t find a treasure trove of supplies awaiting me as I’d hoped, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they had yet to remove everything from the stockroom. I have a feeling that management was probably going to come back for some of the stuff but was blindsided by the rapid onset of the Su flu.

  I managed to find several cases of canned soda, several cases of bottled water, a few boxes of soda dispenser syrup (not sure exactly what I could do with that), a box-and-a-half of snack-size chips, a full box of assorted candy bars, a container of bubble-gum suckers, and an assortment of various condiment packets. I also found a sizeable stash of toilet paper, paper towels, and an array of cleaning supplies.

  I quickly realized my problem however – how to get all this stuff back to camp since I hadn’t driven. And with the lock to the space smashed beyond repair, I was afraid a wandering scavenger might see signs of someone being here and raid the supplies while I was gone. Therefore, I took the lightest-to-carry items (the chips, candy bars, and suckers) and put them in the wood-hauling satchel I’d brought with me. The beverages I hauled out and stashed in some bushes until I can come back for them later. I left the bathroom supplies for the moment. I don’t want to hide them outside in case it rains. Bottled water and cans of soda will weather a storm – toilet paper and paper towels, not so much.

  I thought about driving my car back one night to load up the rest of the supplies, but I’m afraid someone might hear or see me. I figure I can haul the stuff back a little at a time on foot, though. It’s not like I’m so busy I can’t make several more trips. Plus, I might discover some other items of use on my return trips when I have more time to look around.

  The funny part about it all was that in the process of “robbing” the snack bar, I felt incredibly guilty. I know it’s kind of silly considering the state the world is in, it’s just those old societal norms creeping in. Gosh, I hope I don’t have my club membership revoked for damaging/stealing club property (hee, hee, hee!). I’ll just blame it on poor old Miles.

  I know that the stuff I got today (a bunch of junk food) isn’t the most nutritious, but I’m not looking for healthy fare here. I think pre-flu, people had forgotten what it’s like to eat to survive versus eating to enjoy. I know I had. Now, it’s not so much about an enjoyable meal but more about caloric intake. And I’m not going to complain about free chips, sodas, and candy bars – and neither is Miles!

  September 20th

  8:47 a.m.

  To celebrate my food discovery yesterday, I’m treating myself with a candy bar for breakfast this morning.

  And guess what?

  I met someone!

  Last night, I staked out the other side of the lake. I got there just a little before nine. I didn’t take Miles because I didn’t want him to get in the way or scare off the person or people who have been making their way to the lakeside each night. I also didn’t want to endanger him. I had no idea what this person(s) might be capable of, therefore, I tied Miles up at camp. It wasn’t a tight knot I left him on, more of a psychological binding. As I said, Miles isn’t the brightest of dogs. And I figured his laziness would keep him from trying to break free. At the same time, I knew that should something happen and I didn’t return from my adventure, once Miles’ tummy started to rumble, he’d sure as heck break free to go rooting for food like the chubby little pig he is.

  Before I left, I also loaded Dad’s old revolver. It was totally weird. I mean, I’ve fired a gun a time or two, but I’ve never actually walked around with a loaded weapon. It felt completely unnatural. I suppose that like anything else, it’s something that comes with time.

  I had nowhere to carry the gun. I don’t have a holster or anything. I had to shove it into my waistband since I didn’t want a potential meeting with someone to be marred by the sight of an openly carried weapon. But then I was left worrying that it might fire and blow off my nuts or something. The last thing I need out here is a horrific injury of my own creation. At the same time, though, I don’t want to be caught without protection. Like having a condom in your wallet that never gets used, it’s better to have it and not need it than vice versa. I probably should have started carrying the gun shortly after I arrived – probably even before I left home – but I’ve never been that comfortable with a firearm, and I’ve just been putting it off for as long as I could.

  I think that carrying a gun makes this whole situation much more real, and that’s kind of frightening. Thinking that I might be put in a situation where I have to fire the thing is even more frightening. I’ve never fired a weapon in anger, and I’m not sure I could. And even if I could, god only knows if this thing will work. Knowing my luck, it’ll just blow up in my face – LITERALLY! I’d like to fire a few rounds as practice, but I’m afraid that the sound of my gunfire might give away my position here. I guess I could walk somewhere far from camp and do it, but it could still alert potential outsiders that someone is in the vicinity. Guess I’ll just have to pray I don’t have to use the thing.

  Anyway, back to my adventure. So I was hanging out on the other side of the lake, kind of keeping behind a couple large trees since I wasn’t sure what the situation would be. Just a hair after nine o’clock, I heard movement and saw a light approaching through the woods. I didn’t know exactly how to introduce myself, since I’m sure it would seem a little odd to someone my hanging around out in the dark all alone. So I just did what came naturally – I started whistling.

  I feel kind of stupid about it now, but I started whistling, “If You’re Happy and You Know it.” It was the first thing that popped into my head. And as soon as I started, the approaching light stopped dead in its tracks and turned off. A moment later, a tremulous voice called, “Hello?”

  It was a woman’s voice, and a very NICE voice at that, if I may say so. Soft but strong, fearful yet brave.

  “Hello,” I called back as pleasantly but confidently as I could. I then proceeded to tell mystery woman that I’d seen a light over the past few evenings and wanted to investigate
.

  The woman then turned her light back on and I turned on my own. We made brief, somewhat guarded introductions (her name is Madeline – a very pretty name for someone I would describe as a very pretty woman). While it was difficult to tell in the glow of our flashlights, Madeline appeared to be somewhere in her mid to late-20s, tall, maybe 5’7 or 5’8, had long hair (bound into a braid) and a nicely defined face to fit her figure. She wore shorts (fairly short shorts if my memory serves correct, which I think it does), with hiking boots, and a long-sleeve flannel button-up.

  I asked her what she did at the spot each night, and she informed me that she cleaned dishes there in the lake. She had a basket of dishware with her that appeared to be from more than just one person. I felt like an idiot with my follow up question regarding whether she was a member of the club. Her short response of “No,” didn’t make me feel much better about the progress of my interrogation. But I continued undeterred by asking if she was camping nearby.

  I know; I’m a dolt. But what was I supposed to do? I need to know what’s going on around here. And considering this was the first person I’ve seen in the club since I’ve arrived, I at least wanted to make some sort of in-roads to what might be the beginnings of a relationship. She may be my only neighbor for miles around. And if that’s the case, I can think of worse neighbors to have.