by Matt J. Pike
It’s actually inspired me to do my good deed for the day – I’m gonna go up and down the street and let everyone know about the register. I mean I have the luxury of solar power so I can still get TV, but I wonder how many others are getting the info I am. Besides which, it’ll give me a good chance to nosey in on everyone and see how they’re doing now and how prepared they are for what’s to come.
1pm: Just had breakfast – erm – lunch. Food conservation starts as of now. My first aim is to not let anything perishable go to waste. So basically I’m deciding what to eat based on used-by dates. Oh well, that means plenty of fresh fruit and veggies over the next week. I could probably use it too – the closest I’ve come to eating vegetables in the last week was a bag of potato chips (oh, and the veggies on the pizza).
4pm: Well, that took longer than I thought. I probably got to around 60 houses most of them had at least someone home. I’ve been living in the area for over a year now and didn’t realise how many neighbours I actually knew. Either I’d talked to them in the past or just waved when they walked by. That all seemed to come in pretty handy because there were a lot of very suspicious answers at the door. I don’t know what people were expecting to find when they saw me, but I was getting a very distrusting and protective vibe almost everywhere I went. I wonder what they were hiding from, or protecting.
Anyways, the info on the survivor’s register was news to most of the people I spoke to, and they seemed pretty happy to hear about it. So I think I earned myself some neighbourly kudos that might come in handy one day.
It was really interesting seeing inside some of the houses too. Some had electricity but most didn’t. That’s a big win for the solar panels. Of the other houses some people had loaded up on candles, others were using torches and some had just moved all their living activities close to the windows so they could see what was going on.
Apart from that there were no really noticeable changes to most homes. That shocked me I’ve got to say. I mean, as of right now these places are barely coping without electricity what’s it going to be like if this nuclear winter hits? If what’s coming is half as bad as they’re saying, then I can’t see half these people surviving a month. And what about extra food, water, supplies? What about the kids and the elderly – they’re not gonna cope.
I’ve got a feeling this situation is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better. If it gets better.
5.30pm: I’ve been robbed! I can’t believe it – robbed! FFS. Worst of all it must’ve happened when I was out letting all the neighbours know about the survivors register. Wow – that’s bloody low – so much for helping out your fellow man and all that! I’m mightily pissed off right now and feel massively violated. Dirty almost. My heart’s racing like anything and I’ve been pacing back and forward not knowing what to do. Grrr.
OK, the good news and perspective first – the only thing that’s missing is food from my fridge and pantry. But in this day and age that’s serious theft. Forget cash or electronics – food and water, they’re the blue-chip commodities of 2014. That food was mine – it was important to extend my survival – and some douche bag nicked it! I’m not overreacting on this. And to think it could have been one of the neighbours who knew I was out of the place talking to everyone else. I’m dirty about that – massively dirty.
They got into the house through the sliding door in the side courtyard. I’d locked it but hadn’t bothered locking the main door. Rookie error – won’t be happening again. They came over the fence, forced a hole in the flyscreen then made their way in.
There are no real clues as to what went on while they were here but it doesn’t look like they hung around for long. I’m guessing they just fridge/pantry raided then left. Lucky for me – as none of my main supplies are kept in the kitchen. My secret stash remains secret.
I wonder what they would have made of it all if they’d seen it – the water, food, maps, notes, plans, print-outs, generators, the war room – all of it. Would they have been intimidated? Jealous? Would they have laughed? Would they want to come back, kill me and move in here?
God, what if they did want to take over my set-up? What if it’s a family with a big strong dad and a couple of teenage boys bigger than me? How could I stop that? This really all makes me feel very vulnerable.
I’d never really thought too much about personal security. I never really thought it’d be that big of an issue. But I see now it really can be. It’d be so easy to get into a house if you wanted to – even if it was occupied. And who’s gonna stop you? Most of the neighbours are too busy protecting their own property – they’re not gonna look out for others. Police? Forget it. I haven’t seen one and, even if my phone worked to get in touch with them, why would they come? Are they even still operating?
The other thing that’s really opened my eyes to this all today is seeing how the other people are living. To be brutally honest, they’ve got no freakin’ chance of surviving without help. And I don’t think many of them realise how entirely dire their future looks. But they will. Soon. When the clouds obscure the sun for good, when the food runs low, when it gets cold and there’s no electricity. They’ll get desperate. Desperate people are dangerous.
Whatever the case, I really need to beef-up security. I can’t believe I all but overlooked one of the most important aspects of survival. That’s my new mission.
I can’t believe I was so dumb today. Sure, my intentions were good, but I’ve basically drawn way too much attention to myself already. And it’s already cost me in a small way. At least I had the smarts to avoid any questions about food and water supplies – if anyone asked I’d just tell them that I had enough for a couple of weeks. I didn’t get the vibe anyone was scoping me out – just being friendly – but I know enough about poker to know you don’t tell everyone you’re holding the best hand at the table.
It still bugs me. I’m almost convinced it was someone I visited today who took my stuff. It had to be. They realised I’d be out of the house for a while, they knew where I lived and they took advantage. When they broke in they either started feeling really guilty, or were paranoid that I’d come back, so grabbed all they can carry and done a runner.
I’m fuming. If I ever catch the prick who did this I’m gonna go ballistic!
6.30pm: I’ve finally raided the remains of the pantry for dinner. I’m still angry, but now I’m starting to realise how lucky I am. Things could’ve been so much worse. I could’ve lost everything I’ve worked towards. But the thing that sticks with me most is that this will happen again. That is a guarantee.
It’s got me thinking about every aspect of the house and how I spend my time here. I definitely want to live low-profile. But how many things am I doing that are going to give off signs to others? Electricity for example – I have it, so does anyone with solar. For now. But should I be advertising that? Should I make sure the volume on the TV is down so people can’t hear it walking by? Should I use the family room rather than the front lounge at night so I’m not showing my lights to the world?
And what happens when solar goes down? When I have the generator and few others have electricity? I’ve got to be extra careful then. I’m gonna be surrounded by very desperate and curious people. Must lay low then. The stakes will be higher then. Much higher.
What about tomorrow? I should really make an appearance at the registry. But how do I know no one is watching me when I leave the house? Do I sneak out over the back fence?
Or am I just being super paranoid now? Just out-clevering myself by trying to see too far down the track? Wow, it’s getting ridiculously intense inside my brain already! I think I’m gonna hit some games and chill for a while.
11.30pm: Well that was a completely far less satisfactory than expected experience. I’m so used to online multiplayer that playing against console AI is a waste of time. It’s just not nearly as fun. I started a tournament in FIFA and got three games in before I was bored. Three games! That’s usually a warm-up, n
ot a session.
I ended up going all retro and firing up one of the old Call of Duty’s on the Xbox360, I played the campaign mode, which I haven’t done before. It was pretty damn good actually so I might be able to stretch out some more gaming love like that if I’m desperate again. Better than playing against the computer.
The funny thing is I couldn’t really concentrate on the gaming at any point – I know something’s really not right when that happens! I couldn’t let the break-in go. I was stewing on it. I still am to be honest.
Anyways, I’m really getting this drive at the moment, or inclination or something, that whenever I’ve got a problem with something I need to deal with it straight away. It might be that I’m trying to set up good habits in this new world as it evolves in front of me – I’ve got to stay fresh and be prepared for anything at short notice. It’s partly that, but I have this feeling it’s mostly driven by the fact I feel like a completely useless sitting duck waiting for whatever disaster to unfold next. I feel if I keep moving and stay busy that… I dunno… I’m a harder target to hit.
Whatever the reason, that thought process lead me on my evening security set-up mission.
I found a couple of small combo locks, which I’ve used on the side gates either side of the house. It’s hardly gonna stop anyone who really wants to get in but if it deters ‘curious’ people from becoming trespassers then great.
I’ve used a bunch of the extra-thick black garbage bags and gaffer tape to completely block-out the front window. With that, the exterior blinds down and curtains closed you cannot tell if there is a light on in the front lounge,even if you’re standing right outside the window The only light visible from the front of the house now is around the entry door frame. Still, that gives me something to work on for tomorrow.
I’ve set up a little webcam in the courtyard that can run straight into Dad’s laptop. Next time someone comes to visit when I’m not around I’ll be able to get a good look at them. Maybe I’ll put up a few warning signs to keep people out too.
It’s times like these I wish I had a dog. I’ve never been much of a pet person but a dog would be a perfect deterrent right now.
I’m also armed too! It’s amazing how many weapons the shed offered up. First of all – and I cannot believe I hadn’t remembered this until tonight – was Jason’s archery gear. Yes, feeling slightly stupid right now. But in my defence I was mentally playing the ‘keep myself alive as long as possible’ game and it’s only now I’m starting to think ‘survive as long as possible’. Big difference. It’s like survival of the fittest – with adequate firepower. I really hope the world doesn’t degenerate to that, but just in case, I’ve dusted off a crossbow and sweet looking camo-designed standard bow, plus 15 arrows… and I killed a big-ass redback spider that was guarding it all (not with the crossbow, that would’ve been overkill). #ihateredbacks
I can also add a bunch of filleting knives, a hammer, a nail-gun, a cricket bat and a baseball bat to the collection. I’m thinking of going all Mad Max on the baseball bat and hammering some massive nails through the head of it. Badass!
I’ve got my weapons cache spread out in front of me on the kitchen table. Looking at it now I’m actually starting to feel a little too weaponed-up. It made me feel safer while I was getting it all out of the shed but now that it’s here in the house I’m feeling a little daunted by it all. I certainly couldn’t ever imagine actually using any of it in anger. In fact I think it’s gonna make me even more paranoid having weapons laying everywhere. I’m not sure what to do with it all now. I think I’ll spread it around the house and out of sight for the time being, until I can figure out a use for it all. #rambowannabefail
Anyways, I’m probably blowing all of this out of proportion – and the weapons are just a reflection of my paranoid state from today’s break-in. Or maybe it’s the first sign of me going crazy. Here I go again with the thinking – stop it with the thinking already.
Random thought for the day:
Just realised I’d have been at the football today if there hadn’t been this whole end of the world thing happening – Crows v Saints at Adelaide Oval. Footy’s been so off my radar the last week obviously but jeez I miss it. Worse still, I doubt it will ever be back again. It definitely won’t be back like it was before. There won’t be 50,000 people packing Adelaide Oval again.
Aussie Rules. Damn, I love that game. It’s the whole reason winter is tolerable. Not having it any more – that’s a pretty empty thought. I mean – that’s like a chunk of me… gone. It’s not even worth thinking about really.
I wonder how many AFL players even survived this thing? I mean Melbourne and Perth are destroyed – Geelong too no doubt – there’s 12 teams wiped from existence. Adelaide’s two teams are based in the west, which is annihilated. And of the east coast teams Gold Coast, Brisbane and Sydney were all in the tsunami firing line. In fact the only team based in an area that could possibly be safe is Greater Western Sydney, which may have been inland enough to miss the tsunami damage.
Thinking about information like that makes ya feel numb. I’ve gotta change my thought process because nothing good’s gonna come of this one.
I love football.
****
Monday, April 15, 2014
1pm: I just got back from the survivors register (no one broke into the place while I was gone, by the way). It was really good. Really busy too. The army was in charge and it was more organised than I expected. I probably lined up for about half an hour before I could register myself. The guy I spoke to – Sgt Barker – was great. He tried to answer all my questions. Not that he appeared to know anything substantially more than me, but he tried.
It seems everyone was talking about the weather. It was a strange day out – the dust and vapour cloud finally made an appearance over Adelaide. It was in the upper atmosphere, kinda blurring and dimming the sun but not obscuring it altogether. At ‘normal’ cloud level it was just like any other autumn day with some thin, wispy clouds rolling in and out. At least that’s the sense I got, but it’s hard to tell as there was smoke rising from a number of fires; they seemed to be everywhere. But the junk in the upper atmosphere gave everything a sickly yellow look. If this is as bad as things get I think the solar panels might be able to cope with my electricity usage. That would be a massive win – maybe deluded thinking though.
I didn’t speak at length with Sgt Barker but long enough to get a sense there was a plan being hatched to keep everyone safe. He dropped a few hints indicating the register was designed to get enough info from the community to work out how best to plan for the future. On the surface that all sounds really good and encouraging, but is it wrong that the cynical side of me senses it’s to keep the ‘general public’ calm? Weird. Despite all the formality today there was only a handful of army people there. I certainly don’t get the sense of limitless resources behind this. Regardless, I did get a sense of trust and relief from it all.
They also had a heap of supplies to give out, which was awesome. Everyone got a pack with a couple of boxes in it. The first box contained flour, long-life milk, pickled onions, biscuits, water and preserved fruit; the second contained a bunch of different canned foods, can opener, torch and a stack of batteries. It was heavy as anything but I was able to pop home and grab the car to take it all back.
The second box also contained an info pack on where to go for services and information. The plan is to keep parts of all the regional shopping centres open as distribution networks so people can get food and other supplies. If you needed other help – like medicine etc – you could get in touch through these centres (assuming the phone network has recovered). They’re also going to try to keep ABC TV and radio broadcasting news and information. It all sounds very handy and there was a sense of community out there, which was more than I’ve felt since this thing started. There was definitely a positive energy and a sense this thing can be beaten.
They’re coming back in a fortnight and they ho
pe to have a more substantial plan in place by then. I look forward to it. I really do. I could not feel a more polar opposite to yesterday’s paranoid low.
To top off the good vibes, I bumped into Hardo and Boof when I was packing up the car ready to go. They seemed, well, normal... for them. I’m even heading around to Hardo’s this arvo for a bit of a FIFA session. His folks’ place is set-up with solar panels as well and they were having a few people around anyway.
3pm: My phone just burst into life for the first time since the strike-night – someone must’ve pressed all the right buttons to get the network up and running again. Stocked! It then started having a spac-attack while it tried to spit out texts and messages and push notifications and what-not. I don’t think the coverage was too great and every time I tried to do something on the phone something else would beep or download or alert. I think I’ll let it sort itself out while I go to Hardo’s.
7pm: Well, back from my first post-apocalyptic BBQ – it was quite the afternoon actually. Good people, plenty of food, a sneaky beer or two and FIFA and Call of Duty for the boys. The adults just left us alone really, which suited everyone.
It was great – just to sit down, have a few beers with your buddies, then shoot their newb arses over and over again. It was fun – it was so normal. It’s probably the first normal moment I’ve had since this whole thing began. Man, I needed it.
I did get the aside conversations with Hardo’s mum and dad at different points. Clearly my ‘going solo’ approach to all this is a talking point amongst the oldies at the very least. Hardo’s parents are both pretty cool I have to say – they were clearly checking up but were very relaxed about it all. They come across completely unparenty about the situation, which made it OK to talk to them. I feel like they trust what I’m doing.
