Stories in a Lost World: Danielle
L.C. Mortimer
For the boy who never gave up on me
Copyright: L.C. Mortimer
Published: 19th May 2015
Publisher: Amazon Kindle
The right of L. C. Mortimer to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
Danielle is an average college student when the new plague sweeps Kansas. Lost in this new world of pain, death, and creatures who return from death, she is left with her two roommates to try to make sense of everything happening around her.
This is her journal.
*This is the second book in a 3-part series.*
Contents
May
Author's Note
Author
Other Books by L.C.
May
May 1st
Summer is basically here.
Basically.
It’s insanely hot, so I’m hiding out in the shade. That’s why I finally decided to start this journal. I’ve been carrying it around for almost two months with every intention of writing, but I never do. Well, I guess that now it’s time.
I’m Danielle. I’m 23 and I live with my two roommates, Kristy and Bridget. Oh, and we have two tagalongs now: Paul and Keith. Paul is kind of a broody bad-boy. Keith is a little bit nicer, kinder. They’re both not as bad as I thought they were at first, though.
They protect us.
We found the house we’re staying at a few days ago. It was a fluke, really. We almost completely passed it by. The front yard has so many trees and bushes that you can barely see the house from the road. It’s just our luck that we managed to find it. Seriously. Great luck. Things have not always been so smooth for us, trying to survive in the world of zombies.
Kristy got sick a few weeks ago and even though we didn’t tell her, Bridget and I were both worried she wasn’t going to make it. It was just a little virus, but things are a lot harder to recover from when you don’t have easy access to liquids or medication. Even something as small as Tylenol can be really helpful, but it’s not that easy to find. Not anymore.
So this house. It’s huge. There are four bedrooms and two floors. No attic, but who cares? FOUR BEDROOMS. Kristy and I share, but Bridget wanted her own room. The guys each have their own room, too. Kristy doesn’t trust them as far as she can throw them, but Bridget is quickly developing a little crush on Paul. I don’t know what’s going to happen there. Honestly, I just hope she doesn’t get pregnant. Babies in the apocalypse? No thanks.
The room that I share with Kristy used to be the master bedroom. We had to throw out the comforter because it was covered in blood from the previous tenants, but the king size bed more than makes up for the missing blanket. It’s enormous. Think medieval-castle-princesses-and-knights kinda stuff. It’s a four poster bed with curtains. Yes, you heard that right. Curtains.
I keep all of my things in the nightstand to the right of the bed. Kristy keeps her things in the dresser. It’s crazy to me that my only earthly belongings can fit in this tiny little night table, but they do.
So here I am.
This is me.
I’m ordinary, lonely, and have almost nothing to my name.
But I’m still me.
At least, that’s what I try to tell myself. Sometimes it seems like I can’t remember who I was before, so I just try to remind myself. I try to remember.
Here’s what I know about me:
I brush my teeth every day, even though it uses water.
I always grab dental floss and toothpaste anytime we find a place to loot or search.
I hate canned foods and I’m convinced that my blood pressure is through the roof because of all the salt in what I eat.
I can’t remember what I wanted to major in.
I hate the undead.
I miss my little brother so much that it hurts. Sometimes I think about him and I just can’t stop crying.
I wish the world had ended. At least that way, the dead would stay dead.
May 2nd
Today the girls and I explored the house, searching every nook and cranny for anything useful. We found extra toilet paper, batteries, string, plastic bags, and tape. We also found crackers, some food that had gone bad, some canned goods, and best of all, we found some chocolate.
Bridget is thrilled that she found a box of condoms. Yeah, I bet she is. She didn’t say much about it, but I saw the way her eyes lit up before she put them in her backpack. Kristy didn’t see.
I’m trying to be understanding, but it’s hard when I still feel so sad about Dillon dying. I can’t imagine moving on like she is. I can’t imagine even thinking about being intimate with someone. Not now.
But maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time with all of this: I can’t move on. To me, I still care about trying to eat a balanced diet and keeping my teeth clean. I run every day to build my endurance and stay in shape. I still think every day about Dillon and whenever something funny happens, I wish I could tell him about it.
Nothing in this world makes sense anymore.
Before the infection, I was a big sister. I was a daughter. I had a place in the world and I knew exactly what it was. Now? Now I don't know what I'm doing with my life or if I even have one anymore. I can't even call what I do now "living."
Bridget has taken up this hobby of knitting. She's so bad at it, but she tries every day for at least an hour, sometimes more. She works and works and works the needles, trying to create this amazing little blanket thing she's working on.
It looks like a blob.
But it's something that's hers: only hers.
I wonder sometimes if I need to get a hobby. I have no idea what it would be, though, except for gardening. I wanted to plant at our last house, but we all kind of knew that we wouldn't be there long enough to see anything come to fruition. When Keith and Paul showed up, they were trying to outrun a horde, which they managed to bring right down on us.
So that was all for that place.
Now, though, I just want something. I want something to make me feel alive again because I don't. I feel like I'm dying. I feel like I'm falling. I feel like nothing in this world makes sense and I'm the only one who notices.
May 3rd
Menu for today: crackers, crackers, and crackers. I'm so fucking sick of crackers. If I see another one, I might go insane. I just might. You know, if there's any chance that I haven't already, which I'm not counting on.
Keith and Paul have created a pile of makeshift weapons. What we have right now are a shotgun with shells, a pistol with bullets, two guns without bullets and no idea if they work, a baseball bat, a hockey stick, some tennis rackets (really?), and a couple of knives.
In other words, our inventory is pathetic.
Paul found a toolbox and some nails, so he wants to start boarding up the downstairs windows, which is fine with me. He said that if we want to stay here, we need to start fortifying everything now. Fine. I don't care as long as they don't expect me to pretend to be happy or alive.
Bridget helped Paul nail the downstairs windows closed. Of course she did. I don't think they've slept together yet, but it's only a matter of time. She can't keep her eyes off of him. At first, I thought she hated his guts, but now I know it's lust. You know what, though? At least she's found somethi
ng that makes her feel something.
I haven't.
While Bridget and Paul worked on the windows, the rest of us took inventory of our food supply. We have enough to last us a few days if we ration carefully, but we're all starving. Before the infection, I never really knew the definition of hunger. Not like this. Not when I go to bed hungry and wake up even hungrier. It's the most awful feeling in the world, almost more awful than losing someone you love.
Almost.
But not quite.
We're going to go look for food tomorrow at first light. Paul and Bridget are going to stay behind so they can “finish nailing the windows.”
I think it would be more accurate to say that Paul is the one who is going to be doing the nailing, but what do I know?
Until tomorrow.
Good night, Journal.
May 4th
We got up early and left without eating. Keith just doesn’t like to eat in the morning, but Kristy and I were both nervous we would puke if we ate too soon, especially if we ended up having to run away from someone…something.
Keith wanted to drive and I didn’t protest. It was about time we started taking turns with the driving. It was usually Bridget, sometimes me. I didn’t mind not driving today. I was secretly glad for the chance to get to sit and look out the windows. When I drive, I tend to pay very close attention to the road, more than I need to. I still have the idea in my head that I have to watch for people, other cars, and animals.
In reality, the only thing I have to do is keep the car on the damn road. The chances of me seeing someone or something are even smaller than the chances of me hitting someone or something. At least, that’s what I tell myself, but I don’t really believe it, not deep down.
So now that Keith is driving, I actually have the chance to stare out the windows and look at the lush grass that’s blossoming everywhere. How weird to think that there could be undead people or even cows lurking in the grass? How weird to think that the world isn’t really as clean or beautiful as it looks right now?
I try not to care. He can drive every damn day if it means I get to steal long, lingering glances out the window.
Yeah.
We found a couple of houses, but nothing promising until we came across an old gas station. It was abandoned, and sitting in the center of an empty parking lot. It felt weird to be walking around in the open without grass or trees to shield us, but the gas station looked like it had been abandoned long ago.
Before the apocalypse happened.
The windows weren’t boarded. There were just empty-looking “CLOSED” signs hanging in the windows. Keith broke a window and we all waited, hesitating to see if it was going to bring around the undead.
We didn’t have to wait long before a couple of them wandered out from the high grass that surrounded the parking lot. With a combination of rain and no one to mow the grass, it was waist high. It was the perfect hiding place for them. Keith took care of two of the zombies on his own, smashing their skulls with his baseball bat. I stared at one, holding a hockey stick, waiting for it to get closer.
The more it moved, though, the more I thought of Dillon. The closer that it got to me, the more I thought about the way he would never grow up. He would be a little boy forever, locked in a decaying body he couldn’t control in a world that no longer had room for him.
I didn’t even notice that I had frozen until I heard Kristy shout out something. Then I heard a gunshot. The zombie crumpled to the ground and I just stared at it until Kristy shook me.
“Are you crazy?” She yelled. The gun was still in her hand. “Fuck, Danielle! You have got to stop this self-pitying bullshit before it gets us all killed!”
I just looked at her for a minute, then I saw Keith. He was looking at me like I was the saddest, most pathetic thing he’d ever seen. And I think a little bit of me died inside when I saw his stare.
Was this really who I’d become?
Was this really who I was now?
I knew that I was pathetic. I knew I was worth pitying. I knew they were right to stare at me that way, but suddenly, I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be the girl with the dead little brother. I just wanted to be someone new, someone fresh, in a world that didn’t completely fucking suck.
I stepped into the gas station first.
I needed to go inside. I needed to show that I wasn’t broken. I am not some sad little doll that can be cast aside when it breaks. That’s not me.
I just needed a way to show them.
I flashed my light around, looking at the empty gas station. It wasn’t completely empty. It definitely looked old and dusty, though. I wondered how long it had been like this. The sun rays streaming through caught the dust in the air and made the room look even eerier.
There were still some things in the shelves, so I started going through, grabbing everything I could. Candy bars, gummy bears, condoms, Aspirin: I took it all. Keith came in behind me and grumbled for me to hurry it up. He left Kristy outside to keep watch. With the shot she had to fire, we knew they’d be coming this way. The fuckers could hear, if nothing else.
We had tracked blood in on our shoes and I tried not to stare at the now-red floor. Our tracks were throughout the entire gas station. That was what we had done. That was what the apocalypse had made us. We were once-honorable citizens who were now living lives of crime and secrecy, hiding behind the chaos of the end of the world.
And it felt horrible.
I grabbed a few packs of cigarettes from behind the register. Keith saw what I was doing and grabbed even more. We filled two duffel bags and our backpacks before heading back out. Kristy was silent as we all got back in the car and headed home.
There wasn’t really much to say.
May 6th
Bridget and Paul are officially sleeping together. They share a room now and everything, but no one talks about it. We all pretend that we don’t know what’s going on or how fast it happened, as if that somehow takes away the weirdness.
It doesn’t.
It’s weird.
I live in an undead world with one sort-of normal roommate, one eerily silent roommate, and two roommates who are going at it like bunnies.
Bunnies.
Just the thought of that phrase brings back memories of springtime and happiness at the warming weather. Now all I can think about is how hot it already is, and it’s only the start of May. It’s only going to get worse in the Kansas heat. We’ve got no air conditioning. Awesome. Well, the A/C still works in the car, but we’re down to almost no gas left, so no telling whether we’ll actually have a chance to use it or not. Maybe we’ll find some real vehicles soon, ones with full tanks.
A girl can dream.
Today I went running by myself. It’s not the safest activity, by any means, but it’s mostly dirt roads and empty spaces around here, and I needed some space. No one protested. I told them where I was going, and they made it clear that if I didn’t come back, I shouldn’t expect much in the way of a search party.
Kristy would come for me.
Maybe Bridget would, too, but these days, I’m not even sure about that.
I do know that the guys think it’s stupid the way Kristy and I run every day. We run for endurance, to clear our minds, and to have something to do, but it’s more than that. It’s to prove we’re not afraid. It’s to prove that we won’t back down. It’s to prove that these creatures can come back from the grave and we can’t do a damn thing to stop it but they can’t do a damn thing to stop us from running.
It’s a silent plea for normalcy that will forever go unanswered.
On the other side, we found an old well today on the property, just like we all hoped that we would. A lot of houses in this area are on city water, which basically means they’re hooked up to the local sewer system, but we’re far enough out of town now that more and more places will still have wells.
This means fresh water for us.
Sort of.
There’s no g
uarantee that the water isn’t going to have a fish swimming in it and at this point, we’re all mostly hoping we don’t get water that’s been tainted with a body or something. If we didn’t find water soon, though, we’d all be dead, anyway. So it doesn’t really matter.
Paul actually helped us pry the top off the well. It was locked by the original owners and we haven’t found a key or anything in the house. I’m guessing they locked it to keep children from falling in, but it worked just as well to keep the undead out, so we’re all pretty pleased.
When we looked down the well, it was dark, but we shined our flashlights down and could see the electric pump sitting halfway down that worked to push the water into the house. It’s no use to us now, not unless we find a generator or something, so we lowered down a bucket on a rope and filled it up.
We were all so happy to get real water, real fresh water, that it felt like Christmas to us. It felt like birthdays. Most of all, it felt like hope. Finally, we had something go right for us. I just hope this good fortune lasts. I know in my heart that it won’t, but it’s something good, and it means a lot to us.
May 8th
If April showers bring May flowers, then what do May showers bring?
Zombies.
I think they’re all trying to seek shelter from the rain we’ve been having because today Keith and I stood in the yard and killed a total of five zombies over the course of the afternoon. Sure, five zombies, you might think that’s not so many.
But we hadn’t seen any here in awhile, and this is our haven, and it’s got us all uneasy.
Keith and Paul want us to do another scavenging trip to look for weapons and bring them back. Right now the girls and I are too nervous to go out. If this is our safe place and the zombies are coming here of their own free will, what’s driving them this way? What’s causing them to move?
They used to stay in the cities, mostly, and the farm area was all pretty much abandoned. Now, though, none of us knows what to believe or what to hope for. Now I think they’re leaving the cities. Now I think the cities are full.
Stories in a Lost World: Danielle Page 1
