What's Left of the World

Day Zero

I’ve never been much for keeping a journal, but here it goes. My mom wants me to keep a record of my travels: I’ve gotten the feeling she thinks Dad shouldn’t be encouraging me to go. Tomorrow I leave to find my aunt and uncle. They lived on the outskirts of Richmond. I haven’t seen them since before the first pandemic hit, way back in 2020. It has already been six years since it all started. Some would say the apocalypse happened or that God finally brought judgment. I feel like both of those should involve more fire…more war. But there was a lot of death, at least for the first couple years. It’s weird—I knew it was happening, but we had a lot of work to do every day, and it was all happening to somebody else, somewhere else. Plus, I was a fifteen-year-old boy: I thought emotions were overrated unless a girl was involved.

I should get some sleep; I have a lot of walking to do tomorrow. Hmm, I’ve never journaled before… do I sign off or something? Also, I just realized this is the closest I’ve come to writing on a Facebook wall or tweeting since we lost the internet.

Day 1

Today was easier than I anticipated. My dad woke me up saying he had a surprise. He’d arranged for me to catch a ride with Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson has a wagon (I think he traded for it with some Amish people), and I rode with him as he headed south to drop things off with his sister’s family. I’m staying with them tonight, and I’ll start walking tomorrow.

Day 2

I’ve gone hiking before—we all walk everywhere now since we don’t have cars. But it feels different to walk away from home knowing that it will be months, or even over a year, before I’ll be back. It all feels very melancholy.

Day 8

I’ve been on the road for a week. My best intentions only sustained me through three journal entries. I skirted around Dover-Foxcroft yesterday. I know how to take care of myself in the woods but walking through even light urban areas seems sketchy. Generally, the few people I’ve seen have been friendly, but I don’t want to risk it.

Day 17

I’m staying with a local farmer tonight. He struck up a conversation with me as I walked past one of his fields. I was leery at first, but he was very friendly. I have my 1911 from my father if anything goes sideways. The bed is nice, and the homecooked dinner was delicious. It beats cooking for myself and having to find my own shelter every night. It’s spring, but this far north that doesn’t mean much. The recent cold spell has reminded me of that.

Day 18

Last night was very pleasant. I’ll admit I was sad to leave, but I am on a time crunch in some ways. It’s a long way to Richmond, and I have to get there before winter. The farmer had a very cute daughter who was wearing a heart shaped locket as a necklace. It’s an odd detail to remember, but it was catching the light of the rising sun as I said goodbye to the farmer and his family. I’m marking their house on my map so I can stop there when I return.

Day 30

I am sick and tired of walking. Horses are rare and very expensive, but dammit, I wish I could’ve acquired one for this journey. It doesn’t help that it’s been a rough couple of days. Despite still being north of New York City in the spring, it has gotten really hot. Walking while feeling sticky from sweat gets old in a hurry. I know I should’ve been journaling the last few days, but I didn’t feel safe and had been walking as quickly as possible and not making fires when it’s dark.

First, four days ago, I ran into a borderline crazy guy. I saw him at a stream and said hello, and the dude nearly fell in the water he was so startled. I was hardly being quiet either He had this wild-eyed look in his eyes, and when he spoke to me, he wouldn’t actually look at me—his gaze always wandered slightly to the left. I asked him where he had come from, and he said the NYC area. When I told him I’d be passing by there, he grabbed me and yelled, “DON’T GO INTO THE CITY THERE ARE ZOMBIES.” I really don’t feel like he was right in the head. I mean, I wasn’t going into the city anyway. We’ve had several travelers come through our town and they all say that NYC is infested with gangs, so I was never planning on going anywhere near it. Also, zombies? Please those aren’t real.

Since then though, I have been cussed at and told to move on by three different hillbillies. Nothing at all like the farmer I stayed with almost two weeks ago. Also, I just realized I never wrote down his name. His name was John, his wife was Elizabeth, and their daughter was Sarah. I can’t remember his son’s name, but he was around eight. I’m writing more tonight because I feel fairly safe. I discovered an abandoned farmhouse surrounded by woods. It would be ominous, but it’s clear nobody has been here for years. There are doors that lock, a fireplace, and beds. Still, when I bed down, I’m putting the fire out and sleeping upstairs. I picked the bedroom where I have the best chance of hearing somebody come into the house; the locks should also force them to make a ruckus. I should get some sleep—lots and lots and lots of walking between here and Richmond.

Day 36

Today, I started my journey around NYC. It is going to take me several days to skirt around it. I’m compromising and walking through suburbs and borderline urban areas. I haven’t seen a soul. There is a thick plume of black smoke rising from the city. It really is a poignant sight, seeing it billowing up among the skyscrapers. I would love to see the Statue of Liberty, but it’s not worth the risk. Besides, it probably got blown up or something.

Day 49

I ran into a cool little river with waterfalls outside Philly. I know I still have a long way to go, but I finally feel like I’m getting close. I’m worn out and tired of eating the stuff I catch or scavenge. I’ve done a little bit of hunting, but it’s usually more work than it’s worth. Mostly I scavenge and catch fish. It makes me thankful that the sicknesses killed people as quickly as they did. A lot of people had time to stock up on survival food but didn’t really eat it before they died. Not all survival food is made equal though. I stumbled across a pallet of US Military MRE’s in a warehouse area a few days ago. Since I don’t know who will end up reading this I’ll be… delicate. Those “meals” ready to eat gave me intestinal problems for days. Still, I’m tired of eating fish I’ve cooked over a small fire. I really hope my aunt and uncle are in a good position and that I can stay with them through the winter. I don’t think I could turn around and walk all the way back to Maine, and I really don’t think I could be responsible for feeding anyone besides myself with winter approaching.

Day 50

I saw a cool arch today. My route took me right through Valley Forge and there is a memorial arch to the soldiers of the Continental Army. I wonder what they would think of the present world. We were so advanced, but now I think there are likely fewer humans on Earth than there were in the late 1700’s.

Day 60

Absolutely nothing has happened since Valley Forge. I’m near Baltimore. The next major city between here and Richmond is Washington, D.C. I really wonder what it looks like now. If I don’t see anyone I might try and walk through the National Mall. It was really cool when I was a kid, and I bet the monuments are still standing.

Day 65

Scrap the idea of walking through the National Mall. Today when I was walking, I finally saw a sign of life. Two big dudes in combat fatigues were hanging out by a parked truck. I was still in the woods, so they didn’t see me. I couldn’t see well enough, but there was some sort of seal on the side of the truck. Maybe they weren’t bad people, but I’m not risking it. We heard all sorts of stories from people who’d run from the craziness that followed the pandemics. A uniform doesn’t mean anything anymore. Anybody could pull one out of a warehouse or buy one that has been scavenged.

Day 77

I start the search tomorrow. My Dad had his brother’s address, but my map isn’t detailed enough to show exactly where it is. He remembered the couple times he visited, and was able to narrow it down to a specific area, but that circle probably encompasses a 10th of the city. Hopefully, I’ll get lucky and find the street quickly. I’m not too far behind my schedule—I figured I could make the trek in 75 days—and I’ve been lucky that weather has only forced me to stop and shelter a couple times.

Day 78

I checked quite a few crossroads today. I did run into a few people. Mostly they looked unfriendly, but they all told me I was in the wrong area and to check a few blocks over. I wonder how many of them have been here for very long. Personally, I would make sure I knew the area around my house very well. I think I only saw six people but who knows how many saw me.

Day 79

Not a pleasant day. I checked several more blocks and narrowed my search. But one man decided to come after me with a baseball bat. I don’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he thought I would have to drop my bag to run away? Either way, I pulled out my 1911 and he suddenly decided I didn’t look like a soft target. I’m glad I didn’t have to shoot him. I’ve killed animals, but they say killing people sticks with you longer.

Day 80

I’m staying in my aunt and uncle’s house tonight. They aren’t here. Instead, I found a heart shaped locket hung on the wall in their bedroom. There’s a picture of my grandma inside. There’s a note carved into the wall: “Life bad here, heard D.C. good. Headed there.” Then they carved their initials and dated it. I guess they skipped some words since it’s not easy to carve legible letters into wood, specifically the headboard of their bed. It is dated about 13 months ago. I honestly feel very disheartened. I was hoping for a warm family reunion, although part of me was prepared for the worst. The possibilities have been heavy on my heart and mind the last few weeks, but I felt like if I voiced them, they would become real. Maybe that’s odd, but I had to stay hopeful. Now I know they’re probably alive, but they’re like two weeks’ walk back in the direction I came from. Guess I’ll have to find out if those men in uniform are good or bad. I think I’m going to stay here a day or two to rest before heading that way. The locket is coming with me, and I’m going to carve my own message into the headboard just in case somebody comes back.