Apocalypse Diary of a Survivor [Book 1]
Page 24
She was bleeding from the chest on her left side. It was bad.
I grabbed the torch, turned to face her, looked her in the eyes and screamed ‘are you OK?’
I couldn’t even hear myself talk. I looked in her eyes and she was conscious. I picked her up, putting her over my shoulder – somehow – and stepped over Josh’s body towards the ladder.
I managed to get three rungs up. From there I put her bum on the floor above and pushed her back as gently as possible. I don’t think it was a graceful landing, but she didn’t scream. I pushed her legs far enough out of the hole that I was able to climb out. She was bleeding from the chest and the mouth.
I ripped her jacket off and then her two tops so I could inspect the wound. I didn’t look good. I asked if she was OK, she didn’t respond. Her eyelids started to droop. I screamed at her to stay awake. I just yelled it over and over again while I tried to clear my head as to what to do next.
I ran and grabbed the first aid kit. I took out some gauze and dabbed the wound. Fi winced in pain. I pulled the gauze away and it was red. I sprayed some antiseptic then applied some fresh gauze then wrapped some white medical cloth around her chest four or five times, using sports tape to keep it all into position.
Fi started drifting off again. I slapped her face and yelled at her to stay awake. She started coughing and spluttering, I knew I was losing her. I struggled to work out what to do, this was beyond my limits. The only thing I could think of was the Firle hub – maybe there was a doctor there. It was a remote chance but it was all I could think of. If I could drag her to Phoenix I could get there in 10-15 minutes. I ran to the bedroom and pulled the quilt off the bed, it was the only thing I could think to use as a stretcher at short notice.
But when I got back her eyes were closed and she was making this strange gurgling sound. I checked her pulse on her wrist – there was nothing. I tried again on her neck with the same result. I remember trying to give her CPR. I’m not sure if I was doing it for one minute or 10 but when I stopped I knew it was over.
I screamed.
I started going crazy. I remember thinking if I could get her to the Firle hub there might still be a chance someone could save her. I rolled her on to the quilt and started dragging it towards the back door, towards Phoenix. I knew it was useless but through the shock and the pain and the deafness and the haze it was all I could think to do.
Then the quilt got snagged on something. I tried to wrench it free by giving it a couple of big tugs. I turned back to Fi only to realise I was smashing her head against the doorframe.
I stopped. I moved back and apologised. Then I laid down next to her, cuddled her and cried some more. That’s when it all became too much – the pain in my shoulder and hand, the pain in my heart. I just closed my eyes and shut down.
I woke up at some point, I don’t know how long I was out for. I just lay there for a while with Fi’s body in my arms. I cried.
I’ve lost my best friend. I’ve lost my only friend. I’ve lost my lover and my reason for even surviving in this bastard world. I cried and cried.
****
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
I buried Fi yesterday. Nothing I ever do in this world again will be as hard. I buried her with all her possessions and all my love. I told her life story, at least what I knew of it, to the ash and dust and to the absent friends.
I buried her with my hope.
I’m crippled now. Emotionally spent, physically exhausted. I’ve got nothing left to give. Everything is meaningless. Everything.
I don’t know what to do or where to turn. Signing off.
****
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Today I leave you behind, diary. I leave you behind to collect dust with the rest of my past world. There’s nothing left for me here now. I am going to finish this post, wrap you in plastic and leave you on the table to guard the house.
Who knows, some day someone might discover you. The looters will ignore you, you have nothing for them, but years later, centuries later maybe, when the world has repaired itself, someone may come to free you, to bring to life again.
Maybe Adelaide will be buried by then, just a few building shells poking out the top of a sea of ash like giant tombstones to the life and humanity that perished here.
I leave here wondering what will become of life, partly my life, but at the moment I can see that doesn’t count for much. I’m surviving, but I just need to find a reason to do so. It’s more about the BIG life, the life of humans. When this all ends – and who knows when that will be – months, years, centuries – are we destined to die out? Starving, suffocating on ash and killing each other for the final traces of food?
We could survive, but what will we become? A scattering of tribes, armed and dangerous future cavemen, maybe? Is that any better than dying out altogether? If we lose the things that made us human then maybe we are no longer human at all.
And what of the centuries of knowledge and art and technical advances – will that survive? Will future mankind blow away all the ash and start again, or will it be like apes staring at the monolith at the start of 2001: A Space Odyssey – a puzzled bewilderment at an ancient, glorious and misunderstood halcyon day.
That would make me sick to the stomach, knowing we had it all, we had endless possibilities and we squandered them. I try not to let the thought come in to my head too often, but the truth is, we knew something like this could happen one day, probably the only thing that could kill us off, but we threw some coins at a few scientists and assumed it would go away. Risk management they’d probably call it. Human risk management. Meanwhile the amount we spent on our military budget was a crime. We chose war and killing over our future and we got caught out by an unlucky roll of the dice, that cost us everything.
Maybe I’m talking rubbish. Maybe I’m just looking for someone to blame for all this. I have spent so much time trying to survive I couldn’t afford to think too much about blame. But it was always there in the background and now it’s raging through me. Surely this is someone’s fault.
Maybe it’s God. Maybe it was the biblical apocalypse. Maybe the second coming came and went and I didn’t get a ticket to heaven. I probably didn’t deserve one to be honest. Maybe I’m destined to walk this hell on Earth for all eternity.
Maybe it was just super random, bad luck on a galactic scale. It happened to the dinosaurs and now it’s happened to us. Maybe that’s life’s ultimate joke, just an epic highlighter pen marking the pointlessness of it all.
Just ignore me, diary, I’m not in a good place. Sorry we have to leave on such awkward terms.
Positive thoughts, positive thoughts...
My hope is that one day, when survivors emerge from the ash into the sunshine again, they’ll keep the lessons of the past. They’ll rebuild the cities, restart the servers, revive the sense of community. They’ll build again and always remember why they are where they are. We are all at the whim of mother nature, or her cosmic cousin, and if we are truly going anywhere as a species we can never forget that.
In reality we are all small twigs on large family trees, intertwined in a global forest started by the same acorn. Funny how quickly we forgot that. Maybe I’m part to blame for keeping my resources to myself, for not sharing with my community when it was in need. I didn’t kill anyone for food but maybe I was a small step down that slippery slope. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about the community and what happened. Not a day goes by I don’t feel guilty.
That will haunt me forever as will the memories of everyone I’ve lost – family, friends, Fi. Especially Fi. So, too, the sky will haunt me always – a dark, cold daily reminder this is my life; the days of light and colour are gone. I was there once, with my friends and family and first world problems. Now it’s just a distant dream.
And my brother, I miss my brother. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead and the reality is I never will. He is lost to me, like those who have died. There’s nothing I can do or s
ay that fill the void.
That’s why I can’t stay here any more. There is nothing left but painful reminders of what cannot be again. Whatever lies for me out there over the hills and to the east is a new start for a new day. It’s the only way I’ll be able to function, the only reason I can give myself purpose without being weighed down by guilt and pain, the only way to put one foot in front of the other and walk again.
I’ve decided to take Fi’s guitar with me. I’m going to learn how to play. It’s going to be my physical reminder of her. She only played it once. One song.
Goodbye diary. I hope your lay in wait is not forever. I will miss you as you have been the only constant friend I have had since this all began. But this is where our time together ends. I hope you understand.
Goodbye diary, goodbye Adelaide.
Jack J Baldwin
####
****
Claim your free copy of Apocalypse 2
With Apocalypse 2 due for release in 2015 I’m looking for people to send advanced review copies to. If you rate and review Apocalypse: Diary of a Survivor, from where you purchased it, then email me at matt@mattpike.co I will send you an advanced review copy of the sequel when completed to say thanks.
Your reviews matter big-time to this indie author.
****
WIN!!! Or just stay in touch:
You can email me at matt@mattpike.co if you have any questions for me – I want to hear from you. In fact, subscribe to my mailing list to get the latest news on new books and competitions.
****
Finally, a big thanks
You have already helped me!
My youngest daughter, Abby, has Rett Syndrome – a neurological condition that affects mostly girls. Abby cannot walk, talk or use her hands in a meaningful way. Part proceeds from the sale of each and every book I sell will go to finding a cure.
Your support is appreciated.
Author Q&A:
Warning. This Q&A contains spoilers. Please read the book before diving in….
Where did the idea from the book originate?
I was largely inspired great grandfather's WWI war diary, where he shared his personal journey through a harrowing global event. He was shot, gassed, hit by shrapnel and survived a bomb exploding under the horse he was riding (yes, that actually happened) – all told in a daily matter-of-fact journal. One day he wrote of epic events, the next he complained about eating bully beef and biscuits again. It was such a riveting and personal read and I wanted to transpose that style into a modern, end-of-the-world tale.
How long did it take you to write and research?
Research was a huge part of this book. It started well before I put pen to paper (OK fingertips to keyboard) and continued right through the editing phase. It was pretty far-reaching too, as I had to consider the comet strike itself, the level of damage it would create immediately after impact, and then the change in environment in the ensuing days/months. There was some really interesting information available online about asteroids/comets, their frequency, their TBC - everything. I also found a fantastic internet tool which lets you enter the size of a comet, it's speed, angle of impact and what it’s made from and then tells you how much damage it would cause you, depending on you distance from the impact site. Apart from that I also spent a great deal of time watching documentaries, webisodes, movies and reality TV shows on related topics such as the demise of the dinosaurs and apocalypse prepping. I got some great information from these sources (and some not so great), but my inner geek was happy I could justify it all as research.
The weather is a major character in the book, and not often for good reasons. How did you get into that?
The change in weather post-impact also required a lot of research. This was mostly based on what scientists believe happened to the dinosaurs 65 million years ago in terms of atmospheric changes, food shortages etc. Some of this has been proven, but a lot is educational guesswork. It was such a great tool for writing because it really was such an important character. It dictated what our character could do, his mood and how he interfaced with the world around him. It was a moving feast from start to end and played a key role in my writing. I wrote chronologically and the weather changes were a big inspiration for how the story shifted, society evolved (devolved) and how TBC's day-to-day life worked.
Speaking of characters, how real is the dark comet that is the ‘villain’ of the piece?
The notion of the dark comet has been mentioned by a number of readers, and they do exist in theory - just one of the many hidden gems in our universe. The dark comet in this story allowed for a very late detection on Earth, which was critical to the plot. In truth, most objects (regular comets/asteroids) of this size would be discovered months in advance. However, our detection systems are far from perfect, and there have been many cases of smaller objects (but still very deadly) not being discovered until they were days away from Earth. As for the large objects, experts believe they have discovered 90% of the asteroids in our solar system over 1km in diameter. Comets, on the other hand, are a much more unpredictable beast. Still, I'm sure the stats would say you're more likely to meet your maker crossing the road than you are being hit by a comet, so don't lose any sleep over it.
Was Jack inspired by anyone you know?
I guess he represents the type of person I would like to be if such an event transpired. On the whole he makes good decisions, is very resourceful, good with his hands, creative and thinks on his feet. He shares the surname Baldwin with my Great Grandfather.
Who would play him in the movie?
Hmmm… tough one. Help me out casting agents.
How did Fiona come about?
Well, pre-rock, I guess she was a representation of how crazy the world would become if everyone knew there were just days remaining. When she comes back into his life, I saw that as part of the natural need for people to gravitate to others. People need people – doubly so in extreme situations such as the book presented. I think the crazier the world is spinning around you, the more heightened your desire becomes to find normality. A home, a partner, food – the simple things can make all the difference.
In the book, Fi and Jack are pretty tight, but one of their few differences of opinion is on whether Mia should be trusted. However, we never find out who was right. Can you tell us?
I think Mia was a trustworthy person. Sure, she had agendas, but most of those were concerned with steering the Trinity Gardens community in the right direction. The way I see it, Mia and Jack could've ended up together if Fi hadn't entered the scene, despite the age gap (people need people). I think Fi sensed that and was protecting her territory as much as anything else. It's also a conscious part of this book that not everything resolves in nice, neat packages. Life rarely works like that on good days, let alone during the apocalypse, where utilities and communications are very limited.
Authors have really struck a chord in the last few years with books that put teens in peril, fighting for their lives. Why do you think this sort of situation resonates so strongly with young and old readers?
Who doesn't want to read about stories where the stakes are life and death? When I read them, I have a tendency to put myself in the story and see if I would do what the main characters are doing. Would I be resourceful enough to survive? Would I have made the right moves? I think our lives (in affluent countries) are so removed from high stakes struggles and basic survival needs, which conflicts with integral parts of our genetic makeup, that we are drawn to stories like that.
You end the book on an indefinite end. Are you planning a sequel?
Yes, I want to revisit this world. I really want to see what happens to Jack, society, the ash-cloud, communications, everything. I guess if I want to know what happens, I need to write it J I'm currently working on a sequel to my first YA novel, Kings of the World (mattpike.co), then I have another project lined up before I head back to the Apocalypse world again. Can't wait.
AND NOW FOR THE
BIG ONE. SPOILER ALERT … and we’re not even slightly joking…
What made you decide to kill off Fiona?
Don't hate me! I seriously mulled over that decision for a long time. I know it wasn't the ride into the sunset you'd expect, but to me it was a far more fitting finale to what the world had become. It was random and dangerous and, ultimately, sad.
And finally, what’s next up for you?
As I said earlier, the first draft of Kings of the World: The sequel, or maybe book two in the trilogy, which never ends well for the good guys (working title) is in full swing. The boys are back and this time the galaxy is at war. The world's leaders can't stand them, which isn't surprising, since the boys can't really stand each other. They are back at their cringe-worthy, inappropriate, embarrassing best.
FAST FIVE WITH MATT
In an apocalypse I would save …
No idea – it’s too hard to choose between something practical and something to keep me same. And that’s not even mentioning condiments ;)
If I could choose the only other person to survive, it would be…
That is a really unfair question for someone with three kids. Does that mean I get to save the one most well behaved at the point of disaster? That can be arranged, bwahahaha.