Excavated Diary

Day1:

I've never kept a diary, but it’ll be a nice distraction. I want to keep a daily log of events to keep my mind occupied. A way to stave off boredom. A way to process my thoughts. Or to keep my sanity.

3 winters passed since The Final War. I don’t know the exact date. I doubt anyone knows. We’re too busy surviving. The best of us do what we can to see the next day. The worst of us kill the rest to do the same.

Before The Final War, I was alone, earned money online, and lived behind a screen. That’s all gone. No more coding. No more income. No more food delivery. Though I remain solitary, I have no choice but to venture into the world for food and supplies.

Never trusted people, and now I trust them even less. People are a liability. More people, more mistakes. That’s probably what caused The Final War. Too many people, not enough resources. Being alone, the only person I need to depend on or support is myself.

Day2:

Scouted a new area today. I move to a new location every season or two. That’s about the time supply runs dry up.

This new location is promising. Upper-class neighborhood by the looks of it. Several of the houses were well fortified. The fortifications are all broken now, surrounded by shell casings, ash, and bones.

It’s always the same with survivor groups. They either succumb to sickness, unable to treat themselves, or they kill each other. Again, too many people, not enough resources. Often the lacking resource is sense. But that’s coming from a minimalist.

I pack light and use the resources around me. It makes traveling safer, getting away faster, and abandoning a hiding hole easier. At any given moment all I need is my pack, cantine of water, multi-tool, some cans of food (just in case), and my trusty half-machete (a modified full machete for quick-draw purposes). I’m no killer, but I will fight.

I made a hiding hole in some burnt-out rubble nearby. Not smart to hold up in a house. Too much risk for an unexpected looter to pop in. Even more risk of those psycho scavengers. Those would be the “worst people” I eluded to in yesterday’s entry. I call them scavs. They kill to survive and often kill for kicks. That’s why it’s safer to live in undesirable places.

It’s not all bad. With a few creature comforts, any location can be made livable.

Day3:

I want to survey more, but too much movement draws unwanted attention. I’ll wait before the next supply run.

From what I saw yesterday, there was quite a stockpile of canned foods. I took some canned meat and a can of peaches. The peach syrup is a guilty pleasure. I can’t believe I drained it down the sink all those years ago. Stupid.

Day4:

Ya’know what I miss? beer.

Back then, I’d go to my favorite bar and order a tall one. The foamy head would bob back and forth as it’s served up. My hand chilled as I bring the mug toward my lips, hoppy aroma caressing my nose. I pull the welcome carbonated bitter into my mouth and drink. The brew would hit my stomach and shiver my senses, melting away the world’s troubles. Absolute bliss.

Sadly, there’s no more beer. Most of it pilfered by what remained of society. Unfit survivors preferring to succumb to alcohol poisoning in a blackout stupor rather than face reality. The remaining booze was spilled or skunked by the sweltering heat. Like the fleeting stability remaining after The Final War, my ambrosia is long gone.

I can make hooch, but resources and time won’t allow it. Not for now.

Day5:

Supply run today. Large cache. Canned goods, MREs, and a water filtration system. Must have been a doomsday prepper.

It’s no wonder these supplies were untouched. The area is surrounded by sun-bleached human bones. It seems when supplies are finite there is always an abundance of greed.

On my return trip, I spotted trouble in the distance. Scavs. They discovered some travelers so I hide.

It’s bad when they find survivors. Scavs like to take their time with them. The waiting isn’t difficult. It’s the screams that get me.

No one should suffer the way scavs make people suffer. Others might intervene, but that wouldn’t be smart. It’s survival. Better them than me. Had to wait through the screams.

It was nightfall when it stopped.

Day7:

Going to relax today. After yesterday, I don’t want to do much but sleep.

Day8:

Sleeping.

Day9:

Depressed. It’s never easy when I hear innocent people tortured.

As a distraction, I ate one of the MREs. They’re not bad. Maybe it’s my simple pallet.

I spoiled myself and had 3 meals.

Day10:

Supply run. Took stock of the doomsdayer’s cache.

12 MRE crates (24 MREs per)

63 Canned soup

54 canned meat

114 canned fruit

252 jarred preserves (pickled veg and fruit jams)

This was in the doomsdayer’s basement alone. Probably more in the neighboring houses. For now, this is the biggest load I’ve found. More than 2 seasons’ worth.

To keep this haul safe, I set non-lethal traps. Enough to wound, but death is certain if not treated.

Day11:

There was another find I neglected to mention yesterday. Almost missed it if not for the sunlight. A heart-shaped locket on a small golden chain. When I opened it, there was a picture of a woman inside. Fair-skinned, long ebony hair, very beautiful smile.

I think… I’ll call her Melody. It suits her.

Day12:

I’ll update this diary when something significant happens. With the cache I found I’ll be staying here for a while.

I’ll make tally marks for the passing days.

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Day36:

Been admiring Melody recently. What type of person was she? She has a certain vibe. I bet she was into heavy metal and classic rock. I wouldn’t doubt she played an instrument. I miss music.

Would she laugh at corny jokes?

Speaking of which, I came up with a new one.

I always wondered about the chicken and the egg question. Was it philosophical? I never could figure it out until one day, it clicked. It wasn’t a question. It was a setup for a joke.

What came first: the chicken or the egg? The answer is neither. The rooster came first. Get it? It’s a sex joke.

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Day51:

Started having conversations with Melody. She’s fascinating. We have shared interests. She laughs at my jokes and she came up with some of her own.

I’m falling for her.

// ///// ///// /////

Day69:

I’m making a note of this day because of the number.

Melody laughed.

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Day84:

Melody and I decided that since I found some seeds we would plant them in various hidden places. Years later if we need to circle back to this area, there’ll be fruit trees waiting for us.

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Day102:

We spent the day reenacting favorite movies. This came after singing our favorite songs. I told Melody she has an amazing singing voice. She scoffed.

She might be the one.

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Day126:

I did it. I asked Melody if she’d be my girlfriend. It turns out, she already thought of me as her soulmate the day I found her. Says, I saved her.

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Day201:

Scav trouble. We were on a supply run when we heard the screams of survivors being attacked. We laid low. Melody wanted to do something. I shooshed her. There was nothing we could do.

Later, in our hiding hole, we argued. It was our first fight. I stressed it’s about survival. Melody saw different. What’s the point of surviving without our humanity, she said. It cut deep. I know I’m right. So why does it feel so wrong?

Went to bed in silence.

/////

Day207:

We discussed what happened last week. Melody reluctantly agreed with my point of view. It’s sad, but that’s the harsh reality of life. I made up by preparing our favorite MREs. We’ll be okay.

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Day288:

We’re coming up on our first anniversary. I want to do something special. The doomsdayer had portable solar panels, a battery cell with outlets, and several DVDs and CDs along with a portable DVD/CD player. As long as we’re safe I think we can have a movie/music night.

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Day348:

Fucking Scavs! Been going on supply runs for our anniversary. Today, I spotted scavs coming in with chained survivors trailing behind. All women of various ages.

Bad luck. They made camp nearby. We can hear the screams from home. No choice but to stay hidden

Melody can’t take the screams.

//

Day351:

Scavs still near. Must have found a supply cache. No telling how long they’ll stay.

//

Day354:

It’s been 6 days now. The daily screams are tearing Melody apart. I’ve gone through this several times, but I doubt Melody would be able to cope as I do.

I have to do something tonight. I’ll leave Melody here. It’s safer.

Day355:

3 down. Snuck up on them and used my machete. Took tally. 5 left. No more element of surprise. They’ll be on the lookout tonight. Melody tells me not to go. I have to for her sake.

Day356:

1 more down. Came too close to our hiding hole. Was able to smother his screams as I slipped my machete into his rib cage several times. So much blood. Melody stifled a scream. I’m sorry, Mel.

4 left.

Day357:

During daylight, a scav must have found one of my traps. Were the first Male screams we heard followed by a resounding pop and then silence

3 left. It’s nightfall and I have to go.

Melody wants to come for my safety. Told her she’s safer here.

---

Day360:

Got back yesterday. No will to write till now.

Scavs are dead. Women are free. Not sure where they went, but they’re free. It hurts. Melody is sobbing. Told her I’ll be okay. I lied.

Was a moonless night. Dark as it gets. Scavs keeping watch, guarding the women. Guy1 went down easy. Snuck on him real good. Ran him through the back and out his front with machete. The meat shield had a sawed-off. Used both barrels to blast Guy2 a few yards away. Guy3 was mid-pounce. I was still packing an old flare gun. Wasn’t sure if it’d work. Flare bored itself into his eye. Lucky.

Thought it was finished. Began to unchain the women. I was cocky. Guy2 was dying, not dead. He cut me in the leg. Achilles tendon. I was done for, but the women were free. Told them to run. They did.

Guy2 finished dying as I checked my cut. He got me with a shit-covered makeshift blade. Scav tactic. If the cut isn’t lethal, the guaranteed infection will finish it.

Took me a day to stop the bleeding and bandage leg properly. Fell asleep. Later, crawled back home. Melody was waiting. So sorry, Mel.

The infection is setting in. Cut is burning. No medicine to treat it. Melody does her best to comfort me. I’m glad I still have her.

Day363 I think:

Sleeping. Not much I can do. Chills and fever. I’m septic. Won’t be long now. Melody is by my side. Was almost our anniversary. She’s crying. I tell her it wasn’t her fault.

Day366 maybe:

My time is here

To whoever finds this diary

I placed the heart-shaped locket within its pages

The photo is of Melody.

I was alone until I found her

She saved me

Saved my humanity

She was alone when I found her

She’ll be alone when I’m gone

Please take her with you

Please keep her safe

Please

I love her

She likes joking

Her favorite music is old rock and metal

Her favorite movies are cheesy action

She likes to hum and dance in the moonlight

She enjoys summer sunsets

She likes cozy winter cuddles

Her birthday

Is the same

As our...