Читать книгу Diary: Alone on Earth - JD Weldy - Страница 16

November 28, 2016

06:12AM

Dear Diary

I am up preparing to load up my Honda. “My Honda,” I say…I suppose the dealership in Mobile might not agree with that statement. I have done well riding this bike. It is huge, and I’m able to carry much more. Still, I would much rather have a car, but how would I be able to get around all the crashed and abandoned vehicles on interstates, highways, county roads and the like? I guess motorcycles will be my mode of transportation for the foreseeable future. Future…that is something I don’t like to think about. It looks bleak for a number of reasons. I am going straight home, I will never give up hope that Ralph is there. I have no reason to believe he is, but Ralph was with me the night of the 16th. Maybe, just maybe there was some kind of protective shield over my house. I don’t know how else to explain this. I will write an entry after I get home and have had time to inspect things. I’ve only been gone about five days, but it seems much longer. I will stop by my brother’s and sister’s homes on the way back down Hwy 43.

08:25AM

Dear Diary

I am at my brother’s house. Everything is the same except for one thing: My sister-in-law’s purse, which was on the dining room table, is missing. I went back a few pages in this diary to make sure I made note of that purse on that dining room table. I did! I wrote that no woman would leave her purse behind. Did she and my brother come back? I left my brother a note here that I was heading for Atlanta; that note is right where I left it. Now, I am scared again. I have to head home.

10:17AM

Dear Diary

There are paw prints on my kitchen floor. My first thought was Ralph, but these paw prints seem too big. The doggie door I made for Ralph was just big enough for him to get through, but these are definitely dog paw prints…or, at least, of the canine family. There are wolves in Alabama after almost being wiped out in the late 90s. But this doesn’t follow the pattern of all living things missing since November 17th. I have seen no trace of an animal - or even an insect, for that matter. Well, there was that bee…I think…that was on my face shield of the motorcycle helmet. I’m no longer sure that even happened. I am wearing a holster with that .38 at my right hand. I don’t know what this is. I wish to God it was Ralph, but I don’t think it is. I need to get this generator going, so I can have some cold water and maybe have a hot meal later on today. I think the bacon in dry ice is still safe. I will give it the smell test, anyway. I’ve got about 12 pallets of the stuff here. It will be safe as long as it is in dry ice, I think.

2:17PM

Dear Diary

I have gone back to the Axis General Store to get more dry ice from Mr. Atkins' freezer. I am using this Suzuki ATV I took from the Williams house. I have it loaded down as much as I can, bringing as many canned goods as possible. It is going to be slow going back home. It is unnerving, walking around this deserted little country…well, it’s not even a town, just a stop in the road. I think the sausage packed in dry ice will last longer than I anticipated. I smelt the link sausage back home, and it smelled fresh. Time to get back home now.

6:42PM

Dear Diary

I have had a hot meal of sausage links, ribeyes, English peas, mashed potatoes, gravy, baked beans and ice tea…yes, Diary, ice tea. That hot plate is working out well for as old as it is. I considered using the charcoal grill, but this is much easier. I should note, Diary, that I have the generator going, the refrigerator is going, and I even have a Black & Decker jump-starter and charger that I used to jump off my car and truck batteries. In fact, it has a light that I am burning. For the first time since this disaster took place, I have artificial light in my home. It is a warm feeling as I drink red wine with ice in my glass. I remember that movie with Tom Hanks, how remarkable he felt after being marooned for so long, and to be sitting there drinking with ice in his glass. How often I have taken things like that for granted, no more will I be doing so. I will treasure every modern day convenience…I have heard something behind my house. Grabbing my rifle and my .38, I need to check this out.

7:23PM

Dear Diary

Ever since this calamity took place, I have felt that something has been lurking in the shadows watching me. I felt this way all during my travel up I-65 and on to Atlanta. But I’m not going to put up with this at my own home. I should feel safe here, at least! I went around to the back of my house, and felt that same presence as I did at the motel in Montgomery. I've screamed at…whatever it was…I screamed as loud as I could. I've been so damn mad. I screamed so hard that I have a headache now; the same kind of headache you get when eating ice cream too fast. That kind. I fired a couple of rounds in the general direction of where I felt this “thing” was lurking. I kept screaming at whatever it was for at least ten minutes. I have never considered myself psychic in any sense of the word, but I sense this thing, I've sensed it since The Event took place. But tonight, I had a new feeling from it…a feeling of an absolute, raw hatred. It was a feeling that shook me to my very soul. I’m still shaking from it, although I don't sense it here any longer. Maybe for the first time, I let “it” know that I know “it” exists and that I will be ready. What this has to do with everything and everybody disappearing, I have no idea. I am just a simple man trying to survive in a suddenly complicated world.

10:28PM

Dear Diary

I thought I heard Ralph barking again about 15 minutes ago. I went outside on my front porch and called to him. The barking stopped as soon as I called his name, as usual. I want to believe that I really am hearing him, thinking I could survive if God would at least allow my little buddy to come back home for the sake of comforting me. But how could he have survived this long without me to feed him? Could it possibly have been his paw prints on the kitchen floor? There is so much about this new world I don’t understand. The Black & Decker jump-starter, which I was so thrilled to be “charging,” quickly discharged as soon as I disconnected it from the Honda Generator. I was hoping I could have some light in my room with it. Nothing in this world makes sense to me. How can batteries not hold a charge? What has happened? This is all over my head; I just feel like giving up sometimes, Diary. Sometimes, I feel like taking this .38 and ending my suffering, but I can’t do that. I have a sense of purpose now, only I'm not sure what it is.

I plan on staying home for about a week, maybe longer. I am still worn out from the Atlanta trip, but plan on eventually going west…on I-10 to New Orleans…or what is left from it after Hurricane Ethel. Then on to Houston and maybe to Los Angeles. Maybe. I just wonder if I can hold up on that motorcycle with that kind of trip. I don’t know…I just don’t know. But when (or if) I do make that trip, it will be my last. If there was any trace of civilization, I think I would have seen it by now. It’s been almost two weeks. I have got to consider the impossible….the little nagging thought that keeps buzzing around me like a mosquito…the thought that I am completely alone…on Earth. If that is the case, then I have to ask the next question: Why me? Why was I allowed to survive over billions and billions of people? And what is this…blackness, for lack of a better name, that wants to consume me, to devour me? Or is this my imagination? I have a feeling...a bad feeling...I’m going to find the answer to those last two questions...soon.