Today’s lunch was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (we used up the last of the bread and finished the first of our jars of peanut butter as well as a jar of jelly in the process), a can of mandarin oranges, some chocolate chip cookies, the last of the granola bars, some potato chips, and fruit juice. It reminded me of the picnic we had in Riverside during Labor Day weekend – it seems like so long ago.
We lent the portable cook stove to Brenda and Bradley and gave them a couple packs of Ramen noodles and some of our potato chips since they’re almost out of food. I asked them to utilize water from the hot water tank in their unit to cook with. As usual, they were appreciative, but I can tell they’re having trouble accepting our charity. And while I don’t want to say anything, I’m starting to wonder how long we’re going to have to support them. It’s hard enough taking care of my own family, let alone throwing two more, what I consider adults (since they eat as such) into the mix. I don’t want to be rude or appear heartless, but when it comes to a situation that is becoming more life-or-death by the day, and where food and water is scarce, they could cut our remaining food supply by days or even weeks. I feel for them, but if it means taking food from my own kids’ mouths, we might have to reconsider the situation. For now, though, we have enough to spare, and hopefully things will somehow get resolved before we have to make any tough decisions.
I made a quick trip downstairs to visit Ms. Murphy after lunch. I took her a sandwich and bottled water (yet another drain on our resources). While I was in her unit, I took time to fill her up several buckets of water from her own hot water heater tank. I’m thankful to have thought of this valuable water resource, since without it, I’m not sure what we’d do for extra water. I brought a jar of green olives with me for Felix since Ms. Murphy mentioned the other night that he has liked them as special treats since he was a kitten. I changed the litter box for her too. I have to admit, that chore is already getting old. It’s bad enough having to deal with our own family’s waste, let alone a cat’s.
Oh the joys of being stuck indoors all day.
6:33 p.m.
Tonight I invited our neighbors for dinner. I boiled a pound of noodles (I now have a pot of what I call “my boiling water” that I use solely for the purpose of boiling pasta). I mixed the noodles with a jar of spaghetti sauce and used it to feed our entire extended family of condo residents. It wasn’t the most exciting meal in the world, but I livened up the sauce with a little extra Italian seasoning and threw in a bit of garlic salt. I also used up most of the remaining butter since Violet and Dylan like their pasta with just butter and salt.
We tried to keep the conversation light and away from subjects like the flu, lost friends and family, and the future. All in all, it was a satisfying meal and it seemed to fill everyone up. However, tonight, we didn’t play games after dinner. Something else was vying for our attention. It seems that a large fire has been set out on Main Street. We can’t see exactly where it is or what’s burning, but it looks very close to the intersection of Main Street and 7th Ave. right at the heart of our little downtown. I’m not sure if it’s a car, multiple cars or something else. I’m curious as hell – as is everyone else – to know what it is, but I’m afraid it might be some sort of trap. It might just be a way to lure people outside. On the other hand, it could be an attempt to get people from the community to rally together. I’m just not sure. What I AM sure of is that I don’t want to hide inside when there might be efforts underway to start getting things back to some sense of normalcy or at least secure our neighborhood from further danger.
7:05 p.m.
Okay, I can’t take it any longer. I’ve been watching the smoke rise out on the street and it’s driving me nuts wanting to know what it is. And now I can see people coming and going from whatever is burning. I think it’s time to take a chance. Now that the sun is starting to go down, I might risk venturing outside. I think I’ll wait just a little bit longer, maybe until around seven-thirty. With dusk approaching, I can use the poor lighting to my advantage. I’ll keep to the shadows, sneak a peek at what’s going on, and then make a decision as to what I want to do from there.
Bradley wants to come with me, but his mother is against it. I’m against it too for that matter. It’s not that I don’t want some backup along the way, but with him not knowing how to handle a weapon, I’m not confident he’d be much help. He might end up slowing me down, so I think it’s best to go alone.
8:59 p.m.
Well that was interesting. I have a lot to write about this evening.
So I guess I should start with the fact that I DID actually venture outside tonight. I waited until just after 7:30. Once the sun had gone down far enough that it provided some good shadows for cover, I took my .38 and snuck out the rear exit of our condo building. I had to make my way past the still wrapped and bound Ms. Laurel and the remains of the dead person next to her that have largely been picked apart by wandering wildlife.
I cut between several buildings across the alley from ours and made my way out to Main Street. There, I could see several people wearing face masks and gloves grouped around a large bonfire set in the middle of the street. Several more people were bringing things in wheelbarrows to add to the fire.
After watching for a minute, I realized that those “things” were human bodies. They were actually BURNING bodies. I couldn’t believe it at first, but after thinking about it, it made sense. I mean, what the hell else are we supposed to do with all our dead? There have got to be so many around now that it would be impossible for survivors to bury them all. And we need to get rid of the remains to help keep conditions somewhat sanitary. Before we lost power, I remember news reports about the city morgues and hospitals being filled to capacity with flu victims. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this is what it has come to.
After watching what was going on for a few minutes, the situation didn’t appear dangerous. And I thought I recognized one of the people working when he temporarily removed his mask to wipe away some sweat, so I decided to take a chance.
It turned out that the person I thought I recognized was Scott Anderson, the father of one of Dylan’s friends. We’d met and had several conversations at practices and games when Dylan and Scott’s son, Finn were on the same basketball team last year.
After making a quick introduction, Scott explained that he had lost his mother and father to the flu but that his wife Selma, and their kids, Finn and Liam had thankfully remained untouched. He went on to tell me that a lot of his neighbors (they live several blocks away on 8th Avenue) hadn’t been so lucky. In fact, many of them had succumbed to the flu. He and a few of his remaining neighbors – Issac Franz and Jim Abrel – had been working a several block radius around their homes seeing who was still alive. Unfortunately, I guess they haven’t been having much success, finding mostly decaying corpses. Those who ARE still alive are burdened with the rotting remains of passed family members, thus the bonfire this evening. Cremation was the most efficient method they could come up with on the spur of the moment. Scott and his two neighbors had undertaken the depressing task of trying to clear the immediate vicinity around their own houses of decomposing bodies.
I told him about the two in our alley and the three in our front courtyard and he lent me a hand hauling them over in a wheelbarrow and getting them into the fire. While we were working, I asked him if he’d heard any news about steps being taken to get things back under control and city services up and running again, but he seemed to be as in the dark as I am. The only thing he knew for sure was that roving gangs were on the loose and that we needed to be on the lookout because he’d heard some horror stories about the atrocities being committed by these groups.
I told them that just such a gang was responsible for the three dead in our courtyard and explained how it had gone down. He said he wasn’t surprised. Then he told me about what he’d heard these gangs were doing. Turns out, if what he said was true, it sounds like it’s worse out there than I thought.
Scott told me that he’d heard about a couple gangs hitting the other side of town and described the tactics they’re using. The first such tactic involves using those in the early stages of the flu as a sort of “zombie” infiltration unit to get into people’s homes. Apparently, they send these flu carriers into a home at gunpoint. The person or people holding out inside the home are faced with a dilemma – either kill the “zombies” in self defense or, realizing that these people have the flu, kill them in an attempt to avoid being infected. Their only other option is to try to flee, at which point the gang of looters waiting outside will murder them. Then the gangs kill the “zombies” or force them on to infiltrate other targets while pillaging any remaining supplies in the home or building they just cleared.
The other tactic that Scott described is the one that concerns me most. He said that some of these gangs go looking specifically for families. They’ll take several families captive and then they use the children or the wives as hostages. They force the younger more able family members to infiltrate the homes of people the gang suspect might have food or supplies. If the person or people refuse to act, the gang members kill one hostage at a time until those who remain finally submit to the gang’s will. If the home is successfully infiltrated, the gang moves on to the next target, using the same tactic to get the remaining family members to work for them. If those family members fail in their home invasion, the gang kills the remaining hostages and finds new families to do its bidding. It’s a win/win for the gangs, getting the supplies they need without risk to themselves. And it’s a lose/lose for the families – if they succeeded in their raid, they are rewarded with another mission, and if they fail, the rest of their family dies brutally and sometimes sadistically at the hands of the gang members.
I was both glad and dismayed to have met up with Scott. His stories have scared the piss out of me and put me on guard more now than ever. If anything positive has come out of these revelations, it’s that I’m going to fight tooth and nail to keep any and all intruders out of our home. In my opinion, it’s better to go down fighting than be taken alive by such people.
With this knowledge, I quickly retreated to the relative safety of our condo building after loading the bodies of our fallen neighbors into the bonfire.
11:32 p.m.
I’m writing by the light of a single candle. Unfortunately, it looks like there were some unintended consequences of the Main Street bonfire. Like moths to a flame, it has drawn the looters back to our neighborhood. I saw a group of them go by just before it got dark and I just heard people down in the back alley. I could hear one of them trying our building’s rear entry doors…thankfully without success. They then tried to get into a store across the alley from us. I heard them smashing one of the windows. I don’t think they’re going to find much, but I’m not going to be the one to tell them.
I’ve temporarily moved our refrigerator away from the kitchen window over in front of our kitchen’s back door, and I’ve slid the hutch (that’s very heavy since it’s loaded with Kate’s grandmother’s old dishes) that typically sits in the central hallway over to block our front door. Before I did so, I offered to let the Williams’ room with us for the night since they have no weapons with which to defend themselves should our stack of condo units be breached. They accepted. I also asked Ms. Murphy, but she graciously declined, saying that if she was going to die, she’d like to do so in the privacy of her own home. Good ‘ol Ms. Murphy, stoic and steadfast as ever.
Now I’m on watch duty. Kate, Bradley, and Brenda are all still awake too. I gave the Williams’ a crash course on gun use and safety in the event that the worst occurs.
It’s been dark out for a while now, and fires are starting to pop up around town as these gangs of looters (or whatever you want to call them) start putting homes and businesses to the torch. You’d think they’d have better things to do…apparently not. I guess that when the rules of modern society have been taken away and the dogs are let loose, it’s time to run wild. I think these people must just roam the city, taking what they want and doing what they want. I hear them running up and down the alley as I write this, yelling, screaming, shouting, shooting things, smashing things, and generally wreaking havoc and destruction on what was once our peaceful little village. It’s frightening. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before they focus on our building again.
Right now, it looks like they’re hitting the large Victorian homes around us. Those houses don’t stand a chance. They’re big, they have big windows, many of the entry doors have large glass panes in them, and overall I can seem them being extremely tough structures to defend against intruders. A lot of them have security systems, but what good are those now? I feel for anyone left in those homes. I wonder how Scott, his neighbors, and their families are doing? There has to be close to 100 of these violent looters out there going crazy, maybe more. They’re all armed and obviously have no compunction about using their weapons. It looks like any structure they want to get into, they’ll get into. I can only pray for those citizens of our suburb who are still alive and trying to stay that way. Like suffering through the Su flu wasn’t bad enough, now we’ve got to deal with this lawlessness and destruction from those left behind.
Saturday, September 14 th
1:13 a.m.
I’m still writing by the light of my one lonely candle. I have to say, though, even this sole flame almost seems too bright on a night like tonight. Everyone is still awake – even the kids. We’re all huddled in our living room, Brenda and Bradley Williams included. We’ve left the windows open so that we can hear what’s going on outside, but I have drawn the shades to reduce the chances of anyone outside catching a glimpse of movement inside our unit. Poor Violet wants Kate to read to her, but I’m afraid to let them use more candles or a flashlight that might draw attention to our unit.
Things have gone from bad to worse outside as the night progresses. From our third-floor vantage point, I’ve counted at least ten fires burning around town. Gunfire has increased substantially, and it doesn’t appear that the thugs or looters or gang bangers or whatever they are who have infiltrated our village are going anywhere soon.
I actually saw first hand out our living room windows what Scott told me about. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening since it was dark out and I only had the light of a burning house across the street to see by, but from what I could tell, a group of these invaders were forcing what appeared to be a group of area residents to conduct a home invasion. I could hear a lot of gunfire coming from around and inside the house, and then it went quiet. Several minutes later, the armed mob went inside the house. They made several trips back and forth, carrying out what I guess were supplies, before they torched the house.
After a few minutes, what I was afraid would happen, happened. The mob turned its attention to our condo building. Several of the armed gang tested the front gate. Finding it locked (I re-secured it when I got back from hauling the corpses to the bonfire), they cut off the chain holding it closed with bolt cutters.
I was torn as to what to do. I didn’t want them getting into the courtyard for fear of what happened to our neighbors several days ago, happening again. But I also didn’t want to give away our location by firing warning shots. I was hoping that maybe these people would just leave if they thought the place was empty.
By the light of the growing house fire across from us, I could see that the intruders had gotten the gate open, and I knew I had to act. I made sure everyone was well away from the window, cracked the blinds slightly, and fired my .38 until it was out of bullets. I tried aiming at the flowerbeds around the gate since I have absolutely no desire to kill anyone even if they aren’t the nicest people in the world. Plus, since I couldn’t see the faces of the people outside, I wasn’t sure if the people trying to gain access to our courtyard were possibly friends and neighbors from our community who had been put up to this by having their own loved ones held hostage.
; The shots I fired were extremely loud, and their sound reverberated intensely inside our living room. Poor Violet was left weeping quietly and shaking violently when I’d finished, but the gunfire seemed to have the intended effect as the group clustered around the gate beat a hasty retreat.
It now looks like the multitude of thugs and criminals invading our community have moved down the street in search of easier pickings, but I’ve reloaded my gun just in case and the shotgun’s within reach. It felt weird to fire the gun again, especially when it was aimed toward actual people, not at the gun range.
I wish these people would find something else to do and move on…but move on to what? Where do they have to go? What else do they have to do?
Is this how our world’s going to be?
Unfortunately, I guess so. Things are getting worse, not better. I’m not sure what to do. Right now, it’s just about surviving to see another day. But then what? What happens a couple weeks from now when the food runs out? What happens if society as we once knew it never returns? What do WE do? Where do WE go? Will the world be taken over by the kind of people roaming our community – people who don’t play by the rules…who apparently HAVE no rules?
It’s frightening enough for us adults, but what about poor Dylan and Violet? What do they have to look forward to in that sort of environment?
Maybe we can get out of the city. Maybe things are better in small towns where communities were tighter knit before the flu. We’ve kind of missed our chance, but if we can wait things out until these groups have picked places clean – or at least THINK they’ve picked them clean – maybe we can take a shot at getting out of town. The bad thing (ONE of the bad things) is that we’ll probably have to attempt our escape on foot since trying to drive out of the city would only call more attention to ourselves from people like those outside right now.
The Pandemic Diaries [Books 1-3] Page 9
