Chronicles

September 7, 2023

My beautiful wife gifted me this journal last night. I quit journaling years ago, but today seems as good a day as any to begin again. And what a beautiful, glorious day today is!

Six hours ago, I became a father for the first time to a beautiful, healthy, 7lb 3 oz baby girl!! Samarra Eve is her name. My Samarra. My daughter, Samarra.

Mallory was such a trooper during labor and is already a pro at being a mama. I’m so glad we decided on a home birth. Hospitals seemed too risky, as mutations of the virus seem to be increasing, regardless of vaccination.

I had a gift for Mallory as well. An antique, platinum, heart shaped locket with an intricate engraving of the Tree of Life. I took a photo of them immediately after the birth. Mallory is cuddling Sammy to her bare chest, her eyes closed, planting a kiss on Sammy’s head. Sammy, crying, has her tiny, precious fingers curled around the locket, as though clutching her lifeline. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

December 24, 2023

Sammy is growing so fast. She smiles a lot and her eyes light up when she sees us. I wish I had time to write more about her but being a dad (and getting sleep every now and then) is my priority! I would hold her all day if I could. Mallory and I couldn’t be happier. This is Sammy’s first Christmas and we must have bought her every baby toy on earth!

Mallory and I have been keeping close to home, as the virus situation seems to be escalating again. There are mutations reported throughout the world, but the most recent one appears to affect females only. Males seem to be immune. Mallory and I have everything we need here, but I can’t help but be a tad bit concerned. New Year’s Eve celebrations worldwide are canceled, but the concern is that people will hold large private gatherings anyway. Hopefully, people will be more careful this time. Hopefully.

January 15, 2024

Sammy is four months old. She is the light of our lives and has us completely smitten. My heart feels like it’s exploding with love and joy! I live to hear her gurgles and giggles and I could spend hours marveling at her teeny toes, her pink, pouty mouth, her fluttery eyelashes, the tuft of chestnut hair on her head. What a miracle she is!

It breaks my heart that we brought her into a world of chaos. The virus is spreading rapidly among females and the latest research indicates that it can live on surfaces for weeks. Even wearing masks appears to have little effect on containing the spread. New Year’s Eve celebrations everywhere continued despite the risk and is said to be the cause of the exponential increase in cases in the past few weeks. Hospitals are in crisis with female front-line workers becoming infected at alarming rates.

April 3, 2024

We have not left the house in months. The fatality rate from this newest mutation is 100%. The vaccine has no effect on this strain. Supplies are running low and looting is rampant. The health care system is nonexistent as the majority of female healthcare workers are dead or dying. Symptoms appear seemingly out of nowhere and present with a high fever and uncontrollable bronchial spasms. The fever causes seizures and joint pain so severe that any movement is agony. The cough so violent it breaks the ribs. The majority of the infected are dead within a few days. Many commit suicide to avoid dying in agony. Several countries around the world forcefully quarantined all females, which was a death sentence. Their entire female populations have since either died from starvation or mass infection in their captivity.

August 9, 2024

The world is coming to an end. The world’s female population is expected to be fully eradicated in four months. Men are killing themselves en masse. Many others are dying from starvation, heartbreak or disease. Orphans roam the streets alone. The dead are everywhere. I know because I went out yesterday. Mallory and I had a stockpile of food & water for approximately six months and it’s almost gone. The stench is unbearable. I was able to get about a week’s worth of food from an out of the way corner store that was largely untouched by looters.

6:37pm

Dear God. I just heard the report on the radio. Males are carriers of the virus. Not only is it highly contagious, but men carry it. I went outside. Mallory and Sammy have been exposed.

August 12, 2024

Mallory is sick. Her fever will not drop below 104, no matter what I do. Her body aches so badly, she screams with any movement. When she can scream. Most of the time, she is unable to do anything but cough, her face twisted with unbearable pain and unfathomable fear. My God, why can’t she stop coughing? It’s as if she were possessed by some demon determined to make her expel her organs out through her mouth. When she’s able to talk, she begs me to kill her. I already have. I killed her when I left the house and brought the virus home.

Sammy, my poor sweet Sammy. I’m terrified to get near her, but I have to feed her, right? I feel like I’m keeping her alive while killing her at the same time. She cries for her mother incessantly. I wipe myself and surfaces down with bleach water every chance I get and keep Mallory in the bedroom with the door closed, but it’s only a matter of time before Sammy’s infected. What do I do? I’ve never felt more helpless or hopeless. My eyes don’t even produce tears anymore.

August 14, 2024

My wife, my one true love, my world, my partner, my best friend, my Mallory is dead. My heart, my mind and my soul are breaking, but God help me, I feel so relieved. She is free from the nightmare of suffering. Sammy shows no signs of infection so far, which is giving me a false sense of hope. The virus is 100% fatal in females and she’s exposed every time I go out for food & supplies. What is more humane, death from starvation or death from the virus? Maybe murder suicide is the answer. My God, what am I saying? The thin thread of sanity grows weaker every day.

I buried Mallory in the back yard, threw out and burned everything I could and used a precious gallon of bleach wiping down the entire house and myself. My skin is burning and peeling from the constant bleach baths. I fed Sammy and put her to bed and then drank the last of my good scotch while trying to convince myself not to open the bottle of pills I was holding.

September 7, 2024

It’s Sammy’s first birthday. Is this for real? I don’t know what is real anymore. Why did she not get infected? I know it could still happen, but logic tells me it should have already happened. Then again, maybe I’ve lost my mind, and this is all the fantasy world of a mad man. I found some Twinkies last time I was out and used several to make Sammy a birthday cake. She’s started smiling and laughing again and says a few words. I read to her every night, with the heart shaped locket in my hand, which now contains a lock of Mallory’s hair. I kept it so that when (if) Sammy is old enough to wear it, it will become hers.

January 1, 2025

I have come to the conclusion at this point that Sammy is, somehow, immune to the virus. The few radio transmissions that come through all ask the same question. Are there any females left? So far, the answer has been no and yet, Sammy is still here, growing and thriving. That fact fills me with both elation and dread. Am I the father of the last female on earth? Is she truly immune to the virus or just lucky? I don’t respond to any of the transmissions.

July 24, 2025

Sammy and I are going to have to move on. Supplies nearby are growing thin. I have not encountered another human in months. Radio transmissions have dwindled to maybe 1 or 2 per day, always the same people. I packed up a few provisions and outfitted Sammy in a tiny haz mat suit. I traveled farther than I was comfortable to a military supply store and found the haz mat suits and I have spent the past week tailoring one to fit my baby’s little body. She fights me when I put her in it, but I’m still not 100% convinced that she is immune. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know what we’ll find. God help us. Why won’t God help us?

January 1, 2026

Sammy and I living in a large city. I don’t even remember what it’s called. Provisions are adequate and we found a quaint little house that I spend my time working on. I worry about the lack of fresh food, but found a few packets of vegetable seeds at a hardware store. I’m going to start a garden when it warms up.

January 1, 2027

I should write more. But what for? No one will ever read this. It’s been years since I’ve seen another human. I don’t even check for radio transmissions anymore. My main objective is keeping Sammy alive. I dress her and raise her like a boy. I doubt there is anyone else alive out there, but I can’t take any chances. I can’t even bring myself to think of what might happen to her if she’s discovered.

January 1, 2029

It’s been 6 years since the life ended as I knew it. Sammy and I have traveled throughout the country but have not encountered anyone else. I try and make life “normal” for her. We have lessons every day. We eat breakfast, lunch & dinner together and read every night. She’s so smart and asks many questions about her mother, the places we travel to, about life before the world ended. She wears Mallory’s locket and it’s her most prized possession. She looks just like Mallory. I’m not sure if I did right by keeping us both alive, but I’m so grateful for her every day. At the same time, a deep, dark place inside of me remembers that I could have ended my suffering a long time ago if not for her.

September 20, 2033

I’m Samarra Pechman and this journal was my 10th birthday gift from my dad. Reading it made me sad and miss my mom, but I’m glad to have it. I love to write. I asked my dad about the radio and he brought it out and gave it to me. He said he gave up listening to it years ago but explained that people used to be able to send messages to each other with it. He said he thinks we’re the only ones, but I’m not so sure. Last time we were out gathering food, I noticed there were more items gone since the last time we were there. Dad said he didn’t think so, but I know. I’ve been watching and keeping track. Every evening, after we read, I take the radio to the roof of our house and listen for hours, while using the last of the sun’s rays to create signal reflections with my locket. Dad will not like this, but I’ve made up my mind. I will no longer be Sammy the boy. I am Samarra Eve and I am humanity’s last and only hope.

I’ve heard nothing on the radio so far, but I will. I know it.

“Hello? Is there anyone out there?”