Journals of the Fall, pt. 5

Record #168-13-23

Transcript from The Bertrand Jamison Podcast

45th Day after the Fall (estimated)

“Good morning, everyone. All of you who are left, anyway. I can’t believe I still get comments on this, but I swear to you all, I will keep recording and publishing as long as the power and my connection holds out.

If you hear this show, I can’t stress enough how important it is to comment. This living hell we’re experiencing is hard enough to bear without thinking we’re alone. Even if you’re with a group, it’s critical to embrace the idea of community. Let your voice be heard. You’re not alone. I’m here. Others are here. Let us hear from you.

I have to spend some time thanking those of you who commented yesterday. Davis from Syracuse is holed up in his local police precinct with a band of 7 other survivors. It sounds like their situation is pretty grim. A migrating—is it migrating? Do the dead migrate? I’m going to call it migrating—anyway, a migrating horde of the dead moved into the area a few days ago and haven’t cleared the area yet.

Seana in Mississauga is reporting much more typical behavior from the dead. The numbers in her area are thinning, a relief for sure; she tells us that the greater Toronto area started out incredibly thick with them, but she’s hopeful now that maybe they’re gradually dispersing. It doesn’t sound good for anyone who was actually in the city around the time of the Fall though. If you’re in Toronto itself, or have first-hand knowledge of any survivors there, please do let us know.

Ahmed in Los Angeles successfully fought off three of the dead last night. Nobody in his shelter was injured, thankfully, and his family is still safe. This is the third time we’ve heard from Ahmed. I’m glad to hear from you again. Please keep us up to date on events in the city of … well, in the city.

Jamal in New York City—Jamal, you have my sincerest admiration for staying safe this long there—is reporting increased raider activity. There are not one, but two large gangs of motorcycle riders basically pillaging the city, raiding smaller safe-houses and looting food. He warns others in the area to be careful; he has seen members of both groups kill members of the other group, and innocents as well. It’s not all bad news though; they make a point of destroying any of the dead that they find.

And finally, I have some sad news. Daryl from the Seattle outskirts stopped commenting five days ago, after reporting increasing numbers of dead in the area. Another commenter in the area reported a sizable holdout was breached about that same time. Daryl, if you’re still out there, our thoughts are with you.

That’s it for today; be safe out there, everyone. Spread the word as far and fast as you can."

- The show was broadcast over the Internet until the North American power grid collapsed. Jamison’s enclave appears to still survive. J.T.

Journals of the Fall, pt. 4

Record #115-22-00
Transcript from Audio
42nd Day after the Fall (estimated)

[muffled thumping and fumbling]

“Uh, hey. Whoever hears this—if anyone hears—”

“Seriously, Neal? Nobody’s ever going to find this, and if they do, they’ll never play it.”

[additional fumbling and bumping as though someone is trying to turn the recording device off]

“Hey, knock it off! This is important, for like posterity.”

“They won’t have the power to play it! Oh for—fine, whatever. Knock yourself out.”

[footsteps recede, the original speaker (Neal, presumably) clears his throat several times]

“Sorry. If anyone hears this, this is a record of what life is like now. We’ve been lucky—”

[sounds of derisive snorting in the background, sounds like several individuals, and at least one short laugh]

“Luckier than some, at least. We started out in Acresville. That’s probably why we’re still alive. We tried to get to some of the bigger cities around the area, but by the time we did, they had already fallen. The dead—”

[background has gone quiet, Neal clears his throat again]

“The dead … there are just so many of them. Everyone went to the cities, everyone who wasn’t there already. I … I don’t know how long they lasted, but man. I, um. I don’t think they even lasted a day. There’s too many of them. So many.”

[bumping sounds and a click as the recording time changes]

“Hey, this is April. Neal said the rest of us should try this, and—well, I guess it can’t hurt.”

[silence broken by unintelligible conversation in the background, the sound of footsteps]

“The others think it’s stupid, and it kind of is I guess. I don’t really think anyone will ever get to hear this. We’re on the road again. The water stopped working in the last place we stayed. Power’s gone too. We have a few spare batteries, but this recorder’s the only thing we’ve got that uses this kind, I think. If it were up to me, I’d still save it for something more useful.”

[a harsh whisper in the distance can’t be made out; the recording stops again, then restarts; April’s voice is clearly shaken, maybe in shock]

“Oh god, did I draw them with this damned thing? Jason’s gone, he’s just gone. He was there, then he was gone. Nobody else bitten. Adam had to—he had to—Jason’s gone.”

[recording stops, then starts again, Neal speaking]

“We haven’t done this in a while. April vanished last night. Nobody’s seen her; we have to keep moving. When we left Acresville, there were ten of us. There are only four left now. We’re doing okay for food I guess. It’s the water that’s going to kill us. We found a pond yesterday, but one of those things was in it. Adam killed it, but nobody could stomach drinking the water. We don’t think it was safe to drink. Is any stream or lake safe to drink? Or will it make you into one of them?”

[Neal’s voice sounds more dry by the minute]

“We’ve only got a few days of water left. If we don’t find more soon … beware of ponds.”

- Recording date estimated from artifacts associated with the recording medium as discovered. Fate of those recorded remains unknown. J.T.

Journals of the Fall, pt. 3

12th Day after the Fall

I think I’m going to be sick.

I’ve felt this way all day, since I saw the other trucks. Or one of them anyway.

I wasn’t supposed to see, and if any of the guards ever reads this, I’m dead, but I don’t think I care anymore.

They tried to be careful, parked the one truck out of sight of all the others. They had screens up to keep us from seeing, but one of the corners was torn and I saw enough.

They had those things in there! I saw my neighbor. The one who’d disappeared. What was left of her anyway. They dragged her—it—out of the truck. Then made it walk off in chains and a muzzle.

I thought they were supposed to be saving us? Why are they bringing them in? What could

- The journal ends here. J.T.

Record #127-08-03

Blog of Joe Nesmith

35th Day after the Fall

To any who is able to read this, you are not alone.

I write this not just because I’m still out here and posting, but because I can tell from my web stats that despite all the odds, there are still people out there with Internet access. A surprising number, in fact.

I’m preaching to the choir, I know, but get to social media as soon as you possibly can. The main networks aren’t what they were just over a month ago, obviously, but they’ve never been more important.

Before you go there though, let me give you some life-saving advice that has kept me going the past few weeks.

1. Get with a group of people you trust. Do not hook up with strangers.
2. Stay away from cities. Even small towns are death traps now. I know they’re tempting with their abandoned stores and supplies, but that’s where the people were before. It’s where the dead are now.
3. Stay away from hospitals. Even before, they were the best place to go to get sick. Now, they’re worse than cities.
4. Try to find some remnant of civilization. This is where social media comes in. Right now, everyone’s panicked and terrified, but some of us are trying to build something. Try to get in touch with people near you. There is strength in numbers.
5. Conserve your battery life! Unfortunately, network centers are gradually shutting off as power systems fail. There’s nothing we can do about that. We can do something about conserving our own power.

That’s all for now. Spread the word. Organize.

- This is the last posted entry. Advice given was questionable. Avoid strangers, avoid cities, find civilization? Even after the fall, the so-called “survival” gurus were iffy at best. J.T.​

Journals of the Fall, pt. 1

Journals of the Fall is a  new series of no planned particular length. Little Things really put me in more of a zombie mood and this should give me a wonderful excuse to explore some ideas I have about them in more detail. This will probably become the basis of my JuNoWriMo project as well.

Year 56 Post-Fall

West Huron Reclamation Base

For General Distribution

The following records include collected diaries and journals of the time immediately following the Fall. These include transcriptions of audio recordings and videos posted to the remnants of the global Internet, which remained accessible for a brief time.

It is our hope in collecting these records that light may be shed on the troubling events that we have experienced in the decades since the Fall. Records will be added to this collection as they are created or discovered.

Record #103-05-15

Journal of Terence Louis Tully

7th Day after the Fall

It’s been a few days since all the crazy started. I think it’s only been a few days. Hanover’s a pretty tiny place, it took a while to reach us. Of course I’d read all about the dead rising online, but I thought it was just another meme going around. It wasn’t the first time someone’d hacked a traffic sign to warn people about zombies, y’know? Now I wish that was what was really going on.

It was the ‘net that told us things were serious. When it went down, we thought it was just the usual crap from our cable company again, but when we called to complain, there was no answer. Cable was out too. It took us longer to realize that though.

The next day there was nothing. No TV, no internet, no radio, nothing at all until the army rolled into town. They were going to help us, they said. They gathered everyone up into trucks and started just hauling us off. Most of us, anyway. They were giving us some sort of test, shining lights in our eyes. Most went into the trucks. A few they sent off somewhere else. I haven’t seen any of them since.

It was while we were on the trucks that I first heard them.

Sorry if my writing’s getting too hard to read here. I don’t like to remember those sounds. The guys who used to make those zombie movies had it all wrong, or maybe it’s just not the kind of sound you can get quite right out of a TV. I’ve started writing all this down to try and take my mind off it.

They haven’t told us where we’re going yet. I’m pretty sure they don’t plan to, either.