The Dystopian Diaries Read online

  The guy who missed out was all fired up, yelling at the checkout person, and asking why they hadn’t put limits on the amount of ammo people could buy. I kind of slow-played things, hanging around just to see what would happen. So this guy rants and raves for a minute, but seeing as how he’s not getting anywhere with the checkout person, he follows the other guy outside and confronts him in the parking lot. After I got my own ammo, I headed outside too and kind of hovered nearby pretending that I was loading my stuff in the trunk of my car while I watched these guys.

  So the angry dude starts in on the guy who bought up all the ammo. He starts of reasonable at first, asking the guy if he would sell him a box or two of spare ammo. But the other guy refuses, so the dude who’s out of luck starts losing his cool, calling the other guy names and telling him he’s greedy and all this stuff. Well, the other guy, the guy who bought the ammo, you can tell he’s getting nervous, and he tries to get into his car, but the angry dude won’t let him. The one guy is trying to get into his car while the angry guy keeps pulling him out and making grabs for the bags full of ammo.

  Meanwhile, I’m standing there wondering what the hell I should do. The situation keeps escalating, and I’m afraid things are going to come to blows. I mean, I knew things with the flu were starting to get bad, but I didn’t think they were that far gone…at least until the angry dude pulled a gun.

  I had just made my way over to where the two were tussling, thinking that my presence and a threat of calling the police might break up the scene.

  Boy was I ever wrong.

  Right as I walked up, the angry dude aims his gun at the guy who had finally managed to get into the front seat of his car, and shoots him in the damn face!

  Then he turns around and looks right at ME! For a split second, I was sure he was going to aim that gun at me and pull the trigger again. Instead, he dives halfway into the dead guy’s car, grabs the shopping bags of ammo, and hauls ass over to his own vehicle.

  I’m left standing there, dazed and in shock, not believing what I just saw. Anyway, I waited around, gave my report to the police, and then got the hell outta there.

  I felt kind of guilty afterward. Maybe I could have offered the angry dude my ammo and saved a life. I don’t know. It definitely would have been a trade I’d make. Of course it could have been me that the angry guy killed too, so I guess I shouldn’t feel too guilty about it.

  Anyway, that event was the jolt I needed to finally call it quits in Indian Head Park and make the move out here to where I thought things would be better. I reasoned that if people were willing to kill each other over ammunition, it was time to go.

  But shortly after arriving to Woodcrest, I found myself definitely rethinking my decision. More on that later (it was freaking CRAZY – horrible and crazy).

  For now, I’m done eating, and I have work to do. I never realized just how much firewood you go through with a campfire. That was the nice thing about coming out here with Mom and Dad as a kid – they did most of the wood collecting.

  And it got kind of chilly last night. I think I’m going to pull some longer clothing and another blanket out of the car for tonight.

  September 12th

  2:23 p.m.

  Now for a few words about my camp, not that it matters since no one’s likely to read this. But I at least want to get it down on paper. Something tells me that what’s going on – this Su flu thing – needs to be documented. Someone, someday, if people are still around, should have some idea of what happened. I don’t know how many people will survive this pandemic by the sounds of what I’m picking up on the radio. So my account might be one of only a few. Who knows? One day, my words might be looked upon by some future race of survivors or mutants or aliens or whatever. It’s nice to tell myself that at least. It gives me some reason to go on. Plus, this is turning into kind of a nice little hobby to kill any downtime.

  The club at Woodcrest is a sort of anthill maze of old mining roads and newer paths cut specifically for campers and fishermen. The roads split, re-join in spots before breaking off again, and sometimes just dead end at campsites. These roads slice their way for miles throughout the club leading to dozens of campsites spread out over the club’s several hundred acres. Most of the campsites sit on or near ponds or lakes.

  The club entrance’s wooden railroad-crossing-style gates were down when I arrived, but that didn’t stop me. No one was manning them, so I just hopped the curb and drove my way around them through the grass.

  Then I drove as far back as I could get, until I hit the ancient mining roads that twist and weave their way into single-lane gravel – or in some instances dirt – paths that reach the farthest outskirts of the camp. I felt that it was a good idea to be as far away from the camp’s main entrance – and potential visitors or intruders – as I could get.

  But even when the road I was traveling dead-ended at a large field, I didn’t let that deter me. I carefully drove across the field to where it met with the woods again on the other side. There, I navigated my car between the trees so that it wouldn’t be visible from road or field, and parked by one of the old strip mines turned lake that wasn’t on the club’s camping map.

  I only knew about the spot because Dad and I had found it long ago on one of our many adventures hunting for secret spots to fish. Not many other club members even knew the place existed, and that’s why I thought it’d make the perfect spot to hide out. I’m not sure if the club’s board members even know about it for that matter, which is just fine with me.

  About 100 feet from where I parked, there is a huge hill formed from old mine tailings. I guess it’s actually more of a ridge. It’s about 100 yards long, around 30 feet high in most spots, slopes down steeply on all sides, and is maybe 20 feet wide at its top and mostly flat. This ridge is covered with trees and other forest overgrowth, but not so much that with a little work, I wasn’t able to clear a spot at its top for my camp. While it’s a bitch to carry stuff up and down, I’ve found a place where the grade of the slope isn’t quite as steep and allows for slightly easier access.

  The ridge overlooks a sizeable lake on one side. And while the ridge’s tree cover provides some privacy, the overgrowth is not so dense that I don’t have a good view from its top. In fact, while the trees help conceal my presence, I’m also provided with a relatively good 360-degree view out over the field as well as the lake. So between Miles (my vicious attack dog – yeah right, the only things he’s going to attack is the last hamburger!), my distance from the club’s entrance, and the views out over the surrounding landscape, I feel reasonably confident that I can keep a good eye on things.

  At least I hope so!

  For now, I’m off for a little nap. I’ve worked hard over the last week, got my camp set up the way I want it, and frankly, I’m exhausted.

  6:49 p.m.

  What a beautiful day it has been. Temps in the low to mid-70s, bright blue sky, soft breeze that’s just enough to whisk away any real hint of heat, and as evening settles, a slight chill in the air that makes having a campfire all the more worthwhile.

  I’m sitting here contentedly in a camp chair beside my rock-ringed fire, Miles dozing at my feet, a beer in hand, and a belly full of food as I listen to the world die. What a great way to spend the apocalypse.

  Obviously I jest, but I have to admit, if this is the way civilization falls, I can imagine far worse ways to endure the inevitable.

  I have a battery-powered radio sitting here beside me. I listen to it while I putter about camp throughout the day and often while I’m eating my meals. Although lately, the news has been so dismal, it’s rather depressing. Interestingly, there are fewer and fewer channels to select from with each passing day. And the news reports grow increasingly dire. From what they’re saying, it sounds like the dead and dying are everywhere. Hospitals are crammed full of patients or are closed. Government and city services are faltering. Public transportation and the highways are at a standstill. And cities large and small ar
e quickly succumbing to the power of the Su flu.

  From what I understand, this flu is extremely contagious and pretty damn horrendous once you catch it. It spread worldwide in a matter of months. Here in the US, it ripped across the country in just weeks, and the rate of infected has grown exponentially over the past few days. Supposedly, once you’re infected, you’re screwed; you might as well just blow your brains out. Otherwise, you’re barfing and shitting all over yourself, you can’t eat, you can’t drink, you can’t sleep, and eventually you become delirious as the thing goes systemic, shutting down your organs one by one until you’re dead.

  They’re telling us that the CDC is working on a vaccine, but I think that’s all BS. They’re just trying to keep the masses calm, which from what they’re saying on the radio, doesn’t appear to be working either. It doesn’t seem like it’s going to matter anyway. By the time they get something brewed up in the labs, there won’t be anyone left to use it on.

  As for ‘the masses’, they say people are going bananas. The ones who aren’t sick are either doing their best to get themselves infected by going to hospitals or standing in lines together at stores trying to get supplies that don’t exist. The rest appear to be raping and pillaging their way to an early grave.

  All sporting events are cancelled, schools are still closed after summer break, and reporters are saying that gas stations are closed and grocery stores shelves are bare. Car jackings are occurring all over the place, fires are burning out of control since police and firefighters either can’t or WON’T respond, and people – at least in parts of Chicago – are having to resort to vigilante-style justice.

  Officials are telling people to lock themselves inside their homes and shelter in place until they get things under control. But with rolling blackouts and other utility services spotty at best, people are largely left in the dark – both literally and figuratively – regarding what to do to or how to do it.

  I’m so glad I got out when I did. I’d hate to be stuck in a densely populated area right now. I mean, sure, I’m kind of lonely out here, but I’ll take it over people trying to break into my home to steal my shit or worse.

  Okay, it’s starting to get dark. I need to stoke the campfire, go filter some more water from the lake (thank god I bought my purification system when I did – it was one of the last ones they had at the sporting goods store), and shake out my bedroll. It’s amazing how much debris I track in going in and out of my tent.

  September 13th

  9:28 a.m.

  After a terrible night’s sleep, I woke to a daddy long-legs crawling across my face. I don’t know what it is about my tent, but those long-legged spiders seem to love clinging to its fabric in the early morning hours. Maybe it’s the heat Miles and I generate. I’m not sure. But I counted seven of them, not including the one who chose to be my bedmate, clinging to the exterior of my tent’s canopy this morning. They’re such funny looking spiders – such long legs and such tiny bodies. I once heard that they are extremely venomous, but they’re fangs are too small to penetrate human skin. I think that’s just an old wives’ tale. I remember catching them as a kid. I’d pull off all but one or two of their legs and then watch them try to pull themselves around. How terrible! I feel bad about it now. I guess it’s just one of those horrible kid things you do growing up. Still, I feel bad. Sorry to all you daddy long-legs amputees.

  Anyway, as I mentioned, I slept miserably last night, thus my late start this morning – not that I’m particularly trying to adhere to any sort of schedule or anything. Not only was I having nightmares about my arrival to Woodcrest paired with concerns about where our world is heading, but I am almost positive I heard the sound of distant gunfire at some point during the night. While I suppose that sound shouldn’t surprise me considering the state of the world right now, I can’t say it particularly put me at ease either.

  Even Miles seemed somewhat troubled last night. He kept whimpering, and several times I awoke to him scrabbling like he was in one of those squirrel-chasing dream sequences. I was afraid he might catch the air mattress with one of his claws, and then we’d both be sleeping on the ground.

  And after the gunfire and frantic Miles, I had trouble falling back to sleep. All these thoughts kept running through my head. I mean, what is happening to the world? Are we going to pull through this thing? And by ‘we’, I mean society…civilization…the world as we know it and HAVE known it. What happens if we don’t? What will be left? WHO will be left? Will there be anything left worth resurrecting? I have so many questions, and at this point, so few answers.

  It was just starting to get light outside when I finally fell back into a heavy sleep. I’m starting to get really worried. My whole plan was to hold out here until this thing blew over. But now it doesn’t seem like it’s GOING to blow over. Or if it does, it’s going to blow the world away with it. What if there’s nothing to go back to?

  I know it’s not like a nuclear weapon is going to go off and decimate Chicago or something like that. But if this thing continues to wipe people out in the numbers they’re saying it is, then it’s pretty much the same thing. No one will be left to take care of the stuff that kept the lifeblood of civilization going. There won’t be people to run the utilities. There won’t be engineers to fix all the technology. There won’t be doctors to keep people healthy. There won’t be scientists to develop and test new drugs. Heck, there won’t even be the teachers to teach people how to do this stuff to begin with.

  The world – or what remains of it after this thing – could really be screwed. And not just for a while – FOREVER! Or at least for a hell of a long time. I’m not sure that the survivors of this pandemic could ever reconstitute things the way they are now. We are just too far along. Trying to rebuild all that’s lost – not just in physical development but in the knowledge drain that occurs – in a relatively short timeframe could take decades or even centuries. I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be thinking on such scale or such timeframes. I need to be living day-to-day. Leave the rest for later if it comes to that. It’s not like I’ll be fixing those problems on my own anyway. Right now, I’ve got bigger fish to fry!

  5:57 p.m.

  Well, I wrote that I had ‘bigger fish to fry’ and I proved my words true! I tried my hand at some fishing today on the lake beside my camp. While I didn’t have huge success, I did catch a decent-size walleye (my dinner), and a small perch (Miles’ dinner along with some dry dog food).

  I caught a daggone snapping turtle too. Had to cut him off my line since I’m sure as hell not messing with trying to get my hook back. Those things are nasty suckers. Didn’t like them when I was a kid and I still don’t.

  I don’t think Miles was super thrilled with his fish dinner, but he ate it. Here’s a secret – Miles will eat just about anything. Doesn’t mean it won’t come back up later, but he’ll at least give keeping it down a good shot. If nothing else, he keeps food waste to a minimum, big, sweet fatty that he is. He’d better get used to fish, though, because I’m hoping to use regular catches to supplement our food supply here. Speaking of which, I should probably give a general account of what I brought with me.

  During my supply procurement in the days leading up to my journey out here, I made a pretty extensive list of stuff I needed. From food to camping supplies, I spent a tidy sum buying things I didn’t have, which was quite a bit since most of my camping stuff from the old days was either in poor condition or outdated. I bought a new tent since my old one had several tears in it. I got a new, sub-freezing-temperature sleeping bag. I loaded up on a couple new coolers. And then I bought all the standard fare “fun” camp food – hot dogs, burgers, marshmallows, chips, beer, soda, bottled water, some alcohol, baked beans, corned beef hash, some bacon and eggs, stuff like that.

  In additional, I bought a crap-ton of extra canned good, dried foods (beans, pasta, and rice), pre-packaged freeze-dried soups and stews, a lot of cereal, dried fruit, and more “hiking” type f
oods that will last longer.

  I also bought a new propane-fed camp stove, a bunch of small propane canisters to go with it, a new hatchet, a collapsible shovel, a saw, and some other camp accoutrements I was lacking. Most of the other stuff, things like pillows, extra blankets, silverware, toiletries (I did bulk up on extra toilet paper and toothpaste), I just pulled together from around the house.

  Speaking of which, I wonder how my apartment is doing. I had a small, one-bedroom place back in Indian Head Park. I locked the place up good, and there’s not much left there worth stealing since I didn’t have much to begin with. But after hearing about all the looting going on back in the more heavily populated parts of the Chicago area, heaven only knows what I’ll return to – IF there’s anything to return to at all. I was thinking that this was going to be like a mini-vacation – a week, two at the most. Now, I’m wondering just how long I’m going to be here. I wasn’t even planning on digging an actual latrine, but I’m thinking that might be a good project for tomorrow.

  September 14th

  1:23 p.m.

  So I got my latrine dug this morning. I put it well away from camp, right near the big field near where I parked my car. I don’t want it contaminating the lake (my nearest water source). And I figured that when I’m killing time at my most vulnerable, it’d be a good idea to be able to look out across the field to watch for potential intruders.

  My setup is nothing fancy mind you. I found a felled tree that I could sit on. Just behind this tree, toward one end, I dug a two-foot-deep hole. Then I can just plop down on the tree, hang my ass over the hole on the other side (which is mildly uncomfortable, but still doable), and do my thing. It’s no great feat of engineering or anything, but it works. Then, after I’m done, I can partially fill in the hole with some dirt, and so on and so forth until the hole fills up completely. Then I’ll just moved down the tree a few feet (if I’m here that long), dig another hole, and it’s pretty much rinse and repeat – or I guess “wipe” and repeat in this instance.