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FICTION: Survivor's Log - Jean


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Week One:


My name is Jean, and I have decided to write a log of these past few days… in case any of us survive. On the off chance that, if we do, we may actually want to remember any of it.


It was supposed to be a quick visit to my great aunt. In-law, that is. Luke and her used to be really close, apparently. And he really wanted all the kids to meet her before she went. I… guess I am glad they all got that much, at least.


So we all packed up and piled in the car and drove all the way from Toronto. That part honestly was kind of fun. We made a two week trip out of it and stopped at a lot of nice spots across the USA for some sightseeing and hiking and climbing. I didn’t even mind being cooped up with all 5 kids so much for a change. God… to think I used to hate them all sometimes? Now, I’d give anything to have them back.


The bombs fell while we were in the hospital. Some kind of biological weapon, they said. They sealed the doors and said no one could go in and out for at least 48 hours. Everyone only held it together for about 36 - someone slipped out and left the doors open, and that’s when the Zeds got in.


It was a week of siege warfare for us, then. Room to room and hall to hall, the staff and patients and visitors who were unaffected so far, we had to bar off doors, and retreat, and eventually fight the growing hordes of infected. We started calling them zombies, with nervous laughs, trying to take the tension off. It wasn’t that funny - it was pretty accurate.


On the 7th day, something was different about the Zeds. They got particularly active - spastic, I guess, convulsive - every night after dark. This was much worse. They were like a pack of frenzied animals, gathered in a mass like we’d never seen and tearing through the barricades after us. We barely escaped, all of us except Sammy, my 10 year old. I’m worried sick about him but… I didn’t actually see him get hurt, he must have been hiding somewhere. I can still hope he made it somehow. But of all of us who did make it out… I was the only one who didn’t get bit.

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Navezgane County. Jean. Week Two. Day One:


We didn’t want to believe it when little James started to turn. Even more so than when I was separated from Sammy back at the hospital. Lord, I hope Sammy is still out there somewhere: alive, somehow.


I treated James as best I knew how, with the supplies we carried from the hospital. We kept thinking it was getting better until the change was complete. I just couldn’t give up on him, I guess.


So, really it’s my fault. It’s my fault this happened to them.


They all got bit. Every one of them but me. And I tried so hard for a cure, tried to keep them alive… Luke tried too, at first, but he was the first one to give in, for some reason.


“Finishing” him off was… hard. Incredibly hard. You’d think that would have made the others easier by comparison, but… the only comfort was that they were over quicker. By then, I knew what I was doing. When it came the kids’ turns, one by one… at least they didn’t have to suffer.




And now I finished burying the youngest, Susan, just before the sun went down, in the dry Arizona soil out back of this ragged and half-burned little cottage we were hiding in. The others are scattered across the past several miles in similar spots, nightly havens. It’s just me now. The survivor.


I try to sob quietly so the Zeds don’t hear.

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Navezgane County. Jean. Week Two. Day Two. (Part 1)


So far I have been basically hitting things with a rock when I need any kind of materials. Grass for bedding, branches and chunks of wood from what few trees and bushes I can find in this arid place. Today I managed to sharpen the rock a bit, and tie it on to the end of a sturdy branch. Might be a bit of an improvement.


I miss having proper outdoor tools. But despite our little stops this was hardly a true “adventure” outing so I had to pack light - and most of what I brought originally is long gone by now anyway. But if I ever scrounge up a proper knife, or saw… I’ll be holding on to that.




Even so, I managed some basic carpentry with the crude stone axe and some nails I found, knocked a couple of boxes into shape for storage, a door to replace the one I had to bust down to get in this place, patched up some of the many holes. They all came out rough, but acceptable for now. Getting better at the whole hammering nails into boards thing will have to be a priority, I guess. I don’t plan to stay here too long, but I should try to make it at least reasonably secure against the Zeds.




I’m still new to this whole wilderness-woman thing, though. I mean, I loved camping and climbing before but I never had to cut down trees and make things. I still have the fire axe, though, one of the few things I brought with me from the hospital that didn’t get used up. All the medical supplies (save a few bandages) were wasted, trying to save my family from the inevitable. I guess I used the axe for them, too… it just wasn’t used up, in the process.


Though it was a bit the worse for wear. Once it breaks completely I’ll be up ♥♥♥♥ creek. Huh. It almost feels good to actually curse again. Cathartic. I got so used to editing myself around the kids, you know “fudge” and “mother-puncher” and all that, that it had become habit. Taking the small joys where I can. Anyway, the axe was about ready to give out so I figured I had to use it carefully while I still have it - time to stock up on firewood.

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