The Pandemic Diaries [Books 1-3]

by Callahan, K. W.

  I don’t think I truly realized just how true what he was saying was at the time or how far this flu thing would actually go. Now it’s too late to tell him how right he was. The only question is will our family last long enough for our descendants to read these ramblings?

  Well there’s a positive thought for you. Okay, enough of that, time to get back to the matters at hand, like finding a place where we can settle and TRY to keep ourselves alive long enough to create a future for our family.

  I’m going to get the kids settled back on the train, try to get them to take a nap, and then go out later on my own around nightfall. This will give me a little more leeway in my travels and exploring since I won’t have Violet slowing me down. I think I’ll have the kids take shelter somewhere away from the train just in case someone stumbles across it. I don’t want people trying to steal it with Dylan and Violet inside.

  8:34 p.m.

  I feel bad. The poor kids are so hungry, but I don’t dare give them much food since we are down to our last few meals. I allowed them one pack of ramen noodles shared between them for lunch.

  For dinner, we finished off the half can of beans, another pack of noodles (which leaves us with just one) and half the candy bar for dessert. We’ve got to find food fast. We have one small meal left, and that’s it. I saw some berry bushes on my walk back into town earlier tonight. We can pick some berries in the morning.

  As far as what I saw on my walk tonight, well, I guess you could say that things look promising. Again, the town appeared quiet, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to find supplies there tomorrow. If things work out, we might even be able to move into an empty house.

  I broke from the train tracks, using side streets to move discreetly once inside the town proper. It looks like it was a cute little place back when it was inhabited. I’m not sure if everyone died from the flu, they abandoned the place, or maybe they’re just holed up inside their homes, but the town certainly appeared deserted. I suppose that’s a good thing…I’m not really sure. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. I just pray I find food.

  Tuesday, September 24 th

  8:41 a.m.

  I noticed a definite chill in the air this morning while we were picking berries. Fall appears to be on its way. I guess I should use the word “picking” loosely when referring to our berry adventure. The kids ate most of their crop, while I did my best to set some berries aside for later. But I have to admit, I ate my fair share as well.

  The blackberries were delicious – big, sweet, and juicy. It was amazing. You forget just how good fresh berries taste when you’re so accustomed to buying them at the store. Half of what you’d get in your store-bought pint container was often smashed, mashed or moldy. The bad thing about picking these berries was contending with the bees that floated around the bushes while at the same time contending with the vines’ treacherous thorns. By the end of our picking session, our hands, and certain parts of our clothing, were stained a dark purple, and we’d all incurred multiple thorny injuries, but it was well worth the effort. I only wished we’d had some fresh cream and a little sugar to go with them. But beggars can’t be choosers.

  Now that our tummies are filled with delicious blackberry pulp, it’s time to get down to business.

  While we were out picking, I found a good spot for the kids to hide until I get back from my trip into town. I hate leaving them alone, and I worry what they’ll do if something happens to me, but I don’t want to take them along should I run into trouble. I don’t plan to be longer than an hour or so at most…I hope. The weather is holding. There’s no sign of rain, and the cloudless sky has allowed the sun to warm the chilly morning air, so hopefully they’ll be okay.

  Wednesday, September 25 th

  11:43 a.m.

  Sorry I didn’t write more yesterday, we’ve been busy settling into our new home. Yes, you heard me right, I said, “NEW HOME”!

  Yesterday evening, my trip into town was successful. While I wasn’t able to explore everywhere, and didn’t reach the town’s business district, I found that the places I did explore were quiet and seemingly deserted, just as they had been on my previous scouting mission. I spent time exploring one part of the town in particular. It seemed much nicer than the part I explored yesterday, and I found some lovely houses along Hillside Avenue. They were big, and they appeared to be empty. It’s a shame. There were tree-lined streets with looming late-19th and early-20th century-built homes, which other than their untended lawns, looked to be in good condition. Everything else (other than the lack of people) seemed quite normal.

  After seeing these homes, I hastily (because I was so excited) made my way back to Dylan and Violet where they were sheltering near the train. Once I gathered the kids, we accumulated our few remaining supplies – which don’t amount to much – and hauled them back to town with us.

  We left the train idling since it doesn’t appear to be burning much fuel in its current state and I want it ready for a quick getaway if we need it.

  I pray we DON’T.

  So now, here we are. I chose a big Victorian just off Hillside Avenue. We’re only a couple blocks from an elementary school. Should civilization ever bounce back, this could make for a great little spot. The kids would easily be able to walk to school from here. The home is nicer than any I could have imagined living in before the flu. An inlaid wood entry floor inside a sweeping foyer meets with a winding staircase. On the first floor there’s a sitting room, living room, office, small library, a beautiful dining room with glass-fronted built-ins for dishware, a half bathroom, and a lovely country-style kitchen. Upstairs, there are five bedrooms and two bathrooms. Then there is a sprawling attic. Its floors and walls are finished, there are several windows, but there are no walls, leaving it as an open and massively sprawling space (that could make a great play area for the kids!).

  The basement is finished but isn’t anything special. It has painted concrete floors and walls. There is a small kitchenette, a room to house mechanical stuff that I know nothing about, and a larger portion that looks like it served as a sort of family room and is furnished with two sofas, some chairs, a coffee table, and a large television.

  There is no sign of the former occupants. It looks like the previous owners must have lived here for some time since there are family photos of the parents and kids at various stages of life moving up through the kids’ (two boys) teen years. I’m guessing by the looks of the bedrooms upstairs that the boys still lived here when the flu hit, but I have no idea where they (or the parents) went. Everything in the house looks relatively in order, like the people left with intentions of coming back. I hope they don’t return to find us living here, although by the looks of things around town, I’d say the chances of that happening are fairly slim. The place looks dead to me. I haven’t seen one person in or around any of the homes we passed on the way here. It’s kind of creepy really…like some kind of horror movie.

  But on to happier thoughts.

  First off, there was food in the kitchen. Not tons (and the stuff in the fridge was spoiled, which reminds me not to open the fridge door again), but plenty compared to what we’ve been living off of lately.

  Now that I’ve got the kids settled in and have checked out the interior of the house and locked all the entry doors, I’m going to see what’s around here in the way of other supplies. The kids are still investigating their new digs, so I’m going to start working on this task once I get done writing.

  I also noticed a small garden in the backyard. It looked like there were a few tomatoes left that were ripe, but I didn’t see much else. I’ll have to check that out too.

  Beside the garden was a sizeable wood pile. There are two wood-burning fireplaces in the home, one in the living room and one in the library. I think I’ll use the living room as our sleeping area not just because of the fireplace (since fall temperatures will soon be upon us) but because we have an escape route out the back door should we need it (my sweet Chris taught me that).

>   I also saw a rain catcher at one corner of the house when we arrived. Hopefully it will accumulate water to boil for drinking.

  All I can say for sure right now is that it’s nice to be settled momentarily, even if it’s in a new and unfamiliar location. I am staying alert and not getting too comfortable. The memories from Chicago are still fresh in my mind. Images of those fine Victorian homes across the street from our condo going up in flames are forever etched into my memory. I’m keeping the .38 on me at all times until I’m sure we’re completely alone here.

  6:43 p.m.

  I’m absolutely exhausted. There has been so much to do to settle into our new home. We had to move beds and bedding down to the living room. I had to bring water and wood inside for the fire we’re going to have here eventually. We had to search the house for additional useable supplies, and in my husband’s honor, I created an inventory list today. I’d say we have enough food to easily remain here for a couple weeks without additional supplies…maybe even longer.

  And while I’m tired, for the first time in almost two weeks, I feel okay about things. I mean, I’m far from happy with the situation the flu has left us in, but compared to a lot of people, we’re far better off. At least we’re alive and have a nice home to stay in for the foreseeable future. After that, who knows? Being stable for even just a couple days feels significantly better than when we were walking or riding the rails, not knowing what was going to happen or where we’d be the next hour, let alone the next day. At least we have a place where we can stretch out, clean up, and call “home” for a while.

  Thursday, September 26 th

  8:49 a.m.

  Even though I was in a strange environment, I slept so well last night. It was the first night I actually felt comfortable enough to do so. I still don’t know who might be living around us, so I waited until it was dark to start a fire in an effort to conceal any smoke. We built a fire in the living room fireplace that kept us warm and toasty, and I was even been able to boil water for coffee this morning. COFFEE! I haven’t had a cup of coffee in weeks…maybe a month…I can’t even remember it has been so long! God it tastes good!

  The kids are reveling in a batch of hot cocoa I brewed them – WITH MARSHMALLOWS NO LESS!

  Life is good…except for Chris not being with us of course…but we’re trying to stay positive. As Eric Idle from Monty Python once sang…“Alwaaays look on the briiiiiiight side of life!”

  Yesterday, during our search of the house, the kids found some toys packed away in the basement. It’s kind of sad since I know the stuff most likely once belonged to the boys in the pictures, but they’ll be put to good use. I wonder what happened to the people who lived here? I’m guessing the flu got them or they hit the road like me and the kids. But if the flu got them, where are their bodies? And if they decided to leave, why didn’t they take their food with them? Why didn’t they just stay put in this wonderful home? I hope we haven’t walked into some sort of horrible bio-hazard where the town’s water supply is infected or the Su flu is just floating around in the air we’re breathing or something.

  Remember, got to try to stay positive…still, it’s weird.

  You’d think that SOMEONE would still be here. Sure, I know the flu hit hard, but then what? I mean, Chicago still had people left. Indy still had people left. Why not Spencer? Did EVERYONE die? It seems impossible. But a month ago, something like the Su flu sweeping around the world seemed impossible too.

  I’d like to explore the town more, but even with it apparently deserted, I’m somewhat hesitant. While I’d like to know what happened here, maybe it’s better not knowing. I don’t want to go stumbling into something horrific.

  3:09 p.m.

  It’s raining. It’s a nice steady rain. As soon as it started, I ran outside and emptied as much of the rain catcher into buckets and pots (another move I picked up from Chris), and brought them inside to be boiled so that we could collect more runoff.

  We’ve got a nice fire going. I’m hoping the rain will keep anyone inside who might notice smoke from our fire. I’m working to boil the water we’ve brought in. Once it’s cool, I’m putting it into bottles and sealable containers I found in the kitchen. It feels nice to be productive. The kids are helping. They’re scavenging the house for more containers. It’s like a big treasure hunt for them.

  We’re going to read together after we’re done. It’s been a while since they’ve done any sort of structured learning. The last time was when we had our family game nights when we were still in the condo back in Chicago. I suppose that continuing their education will be up to me for the foreseeable future.

  We found more flashlights, batteries, and candles in our search of the home, and the fireplace gives us a fair amount of light if we sit close to it. I have to admit that while it’s certainly cozy here in our snuggly living room, nights are not really my favorite time in this new world, especially in a big old house like this one. I know the town’s quiet and seems empty, but that almost makes things worse. It’s so eerily silent, especially after living in Chicago where there were always noises of some sort occurring outside. And without Chris here for companionship, it’s kind of scary. I’m trying to stay strong, but I think the kids sense my nervousness. Like me, they love their new home during the day – running through its sprawling confines like it was their own giant playhouse – but at night, I notice they stay close to me and always follow close behind when I leave the room.

  We’ve been using a 5-gallon bucket with a lid that I found in the garage as a potty. Tonight, I brought it inside and put it down in the basement utility room. There’s no way the kids will go down there by themselves. If only one of them has to go, the other one doesn’t want to stay up here alone, so we make it a communal event. Whenever one of us has to go, we all go. I’ll have to find a place to dump the bucket tomorrow. There’s an alley that runs behind the backyard. I think that would be a good spot for the time being.

  Tomorrow will be bath day since we will have extra water after the rain we’ve had. Thankfully, I brought extra firewood inside so we have dry wood to heat water with. I’m looking forward to being able to shave my legs again. It’s been far too long…not that I have anyone to look good for anymore. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Keep it positive, Kate.

  Friday, September 27 th

  5:56 p.m.

  It’s getting dark earlier now as the days gradually get shorter. I thank our lucky stars we’ve found a place to stay that keeps us out of the rain and cold.

  Speaking of which, it’s been raining almost non-stop since yesterday afternoon. This means we had an indoor day, which is just fine with me. It’s given us a chance to get better organized, go through the house and our supplies, replenish our bug out bags (just in case – I hope we won’t need them), and get better situated in our living quarters.

  We’ve moved the furniture in the living room either out into the hallway or to the perimeter of the room to make space for a queen-sized bed that Dylan helped me bring from upstairs. We reassembled it in the center of the room and mounded it with pillows and blankets. I think it makes the kids feel safer, like bunnies snug in their burrow; and the warmth it provides, allows me to let the fire die during the night. It gets pretty chilly without it, but we need to conserve our wood supply since I have no idea how long we’ll be here. If we decide to stay through the winter, even our sizeable wood pile probably won’t last very long. I guess I could start burning the books from the library if I get desperate. I’d feel bad, but it’s not like there aren’t plenty of books to go around now that there’s hardly anyone left to read them.

  Speaking of books, I found a copy of “Stuart Little” by E.B. White. I’m planning to read it aloud to the kids tonight before bed. I think it will be a good way to keep their educational skills honed, not to mention a nice way to keep us all occupied.

  Saturday, September 28 th

  9:09 p.m.

  The kids are asleep for the night, tired after their long day
of worrying about Mommy. I’m pretty pooped too, but I want to get this all down while it’s still fresh in my mind. I promise I’ll do my best not to ramble.

  So, whad’ya know? We’re not alone in Spencer after all! What a day. I have so much to write. Where to begin?

  Well, I guess I’ll start by recounting my adventure with what I heard this morning and go from there.

  When I first woke up this morning (actually, it’s what woke me up) I heard something. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but it sounded a heck of a lot like the sound of distant vehicle engines. I literally flew out of bed, not knowing what was going on, but wanting to be ready for anything. I threw on my clothes, grabbed the .38 from where I keep it beside the bed when I sleep, and ran to the front door.

  I couldn’t see anything, and by the time I got the door open and outside, the sounds had faded into nothingness. Our house is located about three and a half blocks from Highway 46 that runs through the center of town, so I figured that’s where the sounds had come from.

  The kids were right behind me. They exhibit a mixture of terror and curiosity about what has and what IS happening to our world.

  It’s so hard being a single parent in this sort of environment. At the time we heard the sounds, I found myself wanting to go investigate what they were, but with a strong sense of indecisiveness regarding whether I should take the kids with me or leave them alone at home. It’s terribly difficult to know which decision puts them in more danger. I decided that leaving them alone would be safer than taking them with me. Should something happen to me, they would still have shelter, food, water, and a big place in which to hide should someone come around. We picked out a sort of hidden space down in the basement as their “safe spot” should someone break in. Then I gave them hugs and kisses and told them to stay safe and be smart while I was away.