On other fronts, I can’t say that our condo residents are thrilled with the water situation. The girls especially have raised a real stink about the salty taste. The stuff IS pretty disgusting tasting – very briny – even after I boil it on the grill. But until it rains or some other water option jumps out at us, it’s the best – and really the ONLY – option we have to stretch our supply.
3:49 p.m.
Today has pretty much been a non-event. The rain I was hoping for failed to come…only more humidity. What a surprise.
I’ve been thinking more and more about taking everyone outside. We’ve all got a touch of cabin fever after being cooped up in here for so long. If nothing else, it would allow everyone a bit of fresh air and a change of environment if only for a few minutes.
It really is incredible just how quiet it is here now. Most of the sounds come from the distant cry of seagulls and the soft sound of waves breaking on the beach. I’ve never heard the place so silent before. I have to admit, it’s really weird. I’m so used to the sounds of people coming and going, cars honking, sirens wailing, laughter and screams on the beach, and people arguing in the parking lot that this sort of environment is a whole new experience.
September 19th
9:17 a.m.
We had a group meeting first thing this morning. We decided to give it one more day before attempting a foray outside the condo. AJ was definitely up for giving it a go, but Catherine and the girls weren’t so sure, nor was Liz. I don’t particularly like the idea of pushing it either after the things I’ve seen around here. I have no desire for us to end up like the other condo residents or those sheet-wrapped bodies bobbing past in the ocean.
Speaking of those bodies, they’ve thankfully all disappeared from sight. Liz and I never did tell the others about them. What good would it possibly do? It’d probably just scare them even more, which at this point would be hard to do but still possible I suppose.
Guess we’re in for another long, long, LONG day. I really can’t emphasize just how long these days are. The high points are meals, and as our supplies dwindle, the high points are becoming LOW points as our meal sizes as well as meal options become increasingly limited.
2:22 p.m.
It’s amazing just how slowly time can pass when you’re shut up inside a dark condo in the Florida heat with very little fresh air flow. This place is REALLY starting to stink without the windows being open and with no running water for regular showers or toilet flushing. It was somewhat manageable when it was just the three of us, but since the addition of Catherine and the girls, it’s gotten bad…REAL bad!
I pray for the day when we can at least open the windows and crack the hurricane shutters or maybe even go to the bathroom outside!
I never thought that these sorts of things would be problems – food, water, basic sanitary living conditions. But here we are.
I think I’m done writing for today. I really have nothing else worthwhile to say.
September 20th
10:10 a.m.
So just before daybreak, here we were, all prepared to make our first trip outside together as a group, and what should happen? It started to rain!
Hey, I’ll take it. I think we’ll ALL take it. As the light rain shower became a torrential downpour, we hurried up to the roof to collect water as well as rinse off and cool down.
We’re taking this opportunity to now boil the rainwater on the grill. Maybe tonight I’ll make a trip out to the ocean to gather more sea water to mix in. While we’re not there yet, I think we’re starting to become slightly more used to drinking the briny concoction.
Oddly enough, while things are far from normal, I think we’re starting to settle into a sort of routine here. While it’s not a “fun” routine, it’s a kind of routine nonetheless.
I find it amazing just how versatile people can be. Even in the worst of conditions, we can begin to find some sense of normality. Each morning, we wake up and start working on breakfast. Liz, AJ, and I are responsible for coming up with and creating the meal. Catherine and the girls are responsible for cleanup. After that, we all kind of go our separate ways for a while, using the bathroom and otherwise doing our best to put some effort toward our physical hygiene.
At this point, meals are pretty much our main semblance of structure. Between lunch and dinner, there is a significant stretch of time in which we typically find ourselves in drastic need of something to do. We’ve burned ourselves out on board games and books. And conversation rarely leads us down any good paths. It usually results in talking about the flu – the results of the flu, what we miss BECAUSE of the flu, or how the flu has otherwise negatively impacted our lives compared to what they once were.
I think that once we can start getting outside again, we’ll be in better shape. If we can go out safely, we can start expending our time far more productively. In fact, if this rain keeps up, we might use it as a sort of test session. If the rain is keeping US indoors, maybe it’s keeping other people (BAD people) indoors too. And if that’s the case, then maybe we should take the opportunity to go outside. I don’t feel good about it, and I wonder if it’s safe. Then again, will I EVER feel safe again? It sure doesn’t seem like it.
7:47 p.m.
Well, we finally chanced it. There was a break in the rain from mid-morning to mid-afternoon, but then the skies opened up again as daylight began to fade. At around five, we held another group meeting and decided that it was time. Yep, we went outside!!!
Using the rain and the darkness of approaching evening as our cover, the entire group headed out. I think that everyone is at their wit’s end with being cooped up inside and are willing to take the risk to get some quality outdoor time, even if it IS in the rain.
So here’s what we did.
After cracking open the hurricane shutters to make a careful visual scan of the surroundings, and doing a similar inspection of the rear of the building, we quietly headed downstairs. There, we re-gathered at the breezeway gate that leads to the building’s grassy front lawn to make another inspection. Once we were as sure as we could be that the coast was literally clear, we made our way out onto the now overgrown lawn. We kicked off our shoes and stood standing in the rain for a couple minutes, all the while watching around us for signs of other people.
I had two pre-baited fishing poles that I took out with me to the beach while the others remained on the lawn to play quietly with a soccer ball we’d brought down. AJ wanted to fish with me and was disappointed when I said, “Maybe next time.” I told him to just be thankful he was outdoors.
Before I left the group on the grassy lawn, I told them that if they saw anyone approaching, to beat it back upstairs immediately. They all agreed, and then I was on my way to set up my poles.
We only stayed outside for about 30 minutes. It continued to rain the entire time we were outside. With evening approaching, the rain felt refreshing, almost cold.
For me, the time outside seemed so much longer as I felt VERY exposed, on the beach. Thankfully, I didn’t see another soul. It was strange, but I’ll take it over the alternative. I did however catch two large fish (that we’ll eat for dinner). My catches were motivating. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll try it again.
September 21st
9:21 a.m.
Last night I slept better than I have in weeks. I think we all did. Everyone seems to be in slightly better moods this morning.
It was leftover fish and pasta from last night’s dinner for breakfast. The rain has stopped, and it is slightly cooler but muggy. I hope that things stay quiet today so that we can venture outside again.
On a positive note, the rain has helped us bulk up our fresh water supply dramatically. I also collected more ocean water to mix it with. We managed to boil the majority of what we collected, but I’ve noticed that our propane supply is starting to dwindle. I’d estimate that we only have about a third of a tank left. Once it’s gone, I’m not sure exactly what we’ll do. It’s troubling to say the least. While most
of our food no longer needs to be cooked (other than the fish I caught yesterday), since we’re subsisting on longer-lasting foods and canned goods, we still have things like pasta and water that need to be – or at least SHOULD be – boiled before consuming.
If things remain calm and quiet, I might hunt for more propane. I have no idea what might be left after the groups we saw got done raiding the area. I don’t know if they scavenged mostly food, guns, and other easily carried supplies or if they went after everything – including propane.
3:05 p.m.
Still all quiet on the Cocoa Beach front. That bodes well for our next outdoor excursion. AJ has been on me nonstop about letting him fish with me. He’s arguing that we could set up twice the number of poles to catch twice as many fish. I understand what he’s saying, and I know it’s really just an excuse to come out on the beach with me, but I managed to put him off for one more day. I just don’t trust this place yet. Too many bad things have happened. Too many people – many of whom we cared deeply about – have died. And I’m just not willing to risk it. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to AJ.
5:26 p.m.
We’re getting ready to head outside again. I can see the difference in the others when we’re getting ready. It’s like they’ve come alive again.
Right now, we’re all at our posts looking outside. The kids have each been assigned a window, the parents a different crack in the hurricane shutters. Everyone knows to immediately alert the others if they see something, but to this point, it remains quiet.
September 22nd
8:18 a.m.
Our outing last night didn’t go at all as planned. Just like the previous night, after we ensured that all was clear, we headed downstairs as dusk began to settle. Again, I left the others on the lawn to play Frisbee and soccer while I took the fishing poles out and got them set up on the beach.
I had again pre-baited the poles, but this time, as I was preparing to cast the second pole, I encountered a snag in the line. The snag took me several minutes to untangle, and during that time, I was so enthralled with my work that I failed to notice two people approaching on the beach. I was shocked and frankly frightened when the man and woman hailed me. I quickly recovered however once I realized the two looked like waterlogged rats in need of desperate help. The man was supporting the woman, and it didn’t appear as if he was in much better shape than her.
So I ended up catching two people instead of two fish. While the two seem like decent individuals, I frankly would have preferred the fish. I don’t know how we’re supposed to care for two additional people. We can barely make it with those we already have. But what was I supposed to do? Once I heard their story, I could hardly refuse.
According to what the couple told us as we took them inside, dried them off, got them into some new clothing, and gave them some apparently much-needed water, they had been on a cruise ship enjoying their honeymoon when the flu struck. The flu had ravaged the ship, killing all but a few passengers. The remaining handful of passengers eventually had to abandon ship after it ran aground. They continued their trip in a lifeboat. They’d spent over a week aboard the lifeboat before it sank from under them. After that, the couple had been separated from the other survivors and forced to cling to a makeshift raft of life preservers until they were washed ashore here at Cocoa Beach.
It was an incredible story, one I probably wouldn’t have believed were it not for the condition of the two when they found me. They were skin and bones, haggard, unshaven, and they literally looked physically and mentally exhausted.
As soon as they were done with this recital of their flu experiences, they asked to lie down to rest. They didn’t even ask to eat. Their names are Jill and Jeremy Davis.
September 25th
1:11 p.m.
There hasn’t been much time to write lately, thus the lengthy gap since my last entry. That might sound kind of weird considering I’m not working a full-time job anymore, but it’s really a full-time job just trying to survive these days.
We’ve been super busy, fishing, cleaning, collecting and purifying water, and keeping everyone actively productive and participating in our new fight to survive. It’s not us trying to hold out against the bad guys anymore. It’s us trying to hold out against our environment. At the same time, we must teach ourselves how not only to survive in this new world, but hopefully to thrive.
I’m definitely feeling better with Jill and Jeremy around. Now that they’ve recovered from their arduous endeavor out on the open sea, they’ve proven quite upbeat and energetic. I guess that just about anything beats the situation they came from on the lifeboat. From what they’ve told us, it sounded pretty terrible. I guess that several of their boat mates met somewhat grizzly demises along their journey.
The newcomers have been a real help around the condo over the past few days. And I have to admit, it’s nice to have another guy around. AJ and I were feeling a little outnumbered before. Jeremy is proving to be a real help with things like fishing and scavenging supplies. I even felt confident enough with Jeremy around as backup to allow AJ to come out and fish with us yesterday. And Jill is a powerhouse all her own – a very “take charge” kind of woman. I like that. She and Liz seem to get along very well.
Speaking of Liz, I think she has caught a little cold after being out in the rain the other day. It doesn’t seem to be anything major, but it’s yet another issue with which we must deal.
On other fronts, today is “move out” day. Catherine and the girls are moving into the condo directly behind us. Jill and Jeremy are moving in next door. This way, we’re close enough to support and protect one another, but we’re not all crammed into a single condo. In the process, we’ve knocked small emergency “bug-out holes” in the adjoining walls between all the condos on our floor. This way, if intruders arrive, we can move from condo to condo, making secretive escapes without being noticed.
It was hard knocking holes in the walls at first. We didn’t want to do damage to the condos. But we soon realized that we needed to overcome some of those pre-flu stigmas about what is acceptable and what’s not in this new world. A little damage to the condos doesn’t matter now. All that matters is our safety and security.
October 16th
7:17 p.m.
I feel a little guilty about not having written in almost three weeks. My entries had become such a part of life before, but now every minute of the day seems to be packed with duties to find food, purify water, gather supplies, or make adjustments to our living arrangements. Plus, Liz has been sick lately, so I’ve been spending more time taking care of her and picking up the slack during her down times.
I think I mentioned in my last entry that my dear wife had picked up a cold after going out in the rain. Well, I guess that cold has morphed into something else. We aren’t exactly sure what it is, but it comes with a very throaty cough, which makes me think it might be bronchitis, especially with the way it has held on over the past few weeks. If it IS bronchitis, it almost makes me feel better since I know that the illness takes a long time to get over. In the meantime however, I feel terrible for Liz. While we’ve found some basic medicine that helps treat her symptoms, nothing seems to improve the cough. Her coughing is constant throughout both day and night. And while it often keeps me awake at night, I can only imagine what it’s like for her. She has been very lethargic lately.
I honestly just pray that it’s bronchitis, an illness that’s not fun to have, and lingers a long time, but that will eventually go away on its own. I love her so much. I just wish she’d get better.
November 15th
8:18 p.m.
Liz is really sick. We’re not sure what’s wrong with her. It’s either pneumonia or some sort of infection.
We’ve been in communication with a small group of survivors around Cocoa Beach. There are probably about a hundred of us in the area who have loosely banded together mostly to share resources and hunt for supplies.
There
has been talk about a doctor in the area, but supposedly he’s almost 20 miles away in Melbourne, and travel isn’t as easy as it used to be. Many vehicles have had their fuel siphoned, their batteries have died, their tires have been removed, or they’ve been vandalized in some way that makes them un-drivable.
Rumor has it that there is a guy setting up some sort of communal transit system that runs between several of his trading posts up and down the coast, but things still aren’t completely safe out there. Word on the street is that most of the bad sorts we encountered shortly after the flu have either headed north to Atlanta, west to Orlando, or south to Miami. Apparently there are better pickings in these areas. Plus, I guess there are others, similar to them, around these urban landscapes. Supposedly people in those cities are organizing these rabid dogs into roaming gangs of scavengers willing to do anything and everything to get what they want. I can only imagine what that must be like for the poor remaining residents just trying to survive like we are. I shudder to think, but I have to admit that I’m thankful those thugs are there rather than here. Even then, we’ve heard stories of roadside bandits attacking local travelers around here. So I guess not everyone who remains is willing to play by some sort of pre-flu societal rules.
The Dystopian Diaries Page 71
