Deadfall: Survivors (19 page)

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Authors: Richard Flunker

BOOK: Deadfall: Survivors
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Dawn - 1st Entry

Never before in my life have I felt more lost or useless, and my life is the biggest example of being lost and being useless. I have been led along by the two most important figures in my life, my husband and my God. Both now appear to have vanished from my life, both with lies and deception that have left me lost and useless. I loved them both with my entire li
fe, putting everything else behind for both of them, and now I’m  here, without either of them, without knowing who either one of them truly was until the very end.

I met my husband when I was very young, just turned
seventeen, and he was studying business in college. He quit school to become a preacher, because he had a way with words, and more so with people. I was naïve, and was easily swept up by his words and his charisma. But more so, I was swept up by the promises of a God he professed to follow, the promises of love and life after death. What I ended up with, was a life with a false love and death coming before life on this earth.

I will openly admit that I was completely deceived by my husband. I don’t know if he ever truly loved me, maybe he did, in his own way, but his true love was for the money that his followers brought in to him, and in part, I fell in love with that as well. He took away from me what deep down I had always wanted, children. Instead, he told me that God had promised me greater things
, if only I could dedicate my life entirely to Him. I couldn’t do that if I had children. But he only wanted me to keep my figure and look good for his followers.

I was there with him when he announced the end of the world, and took all of their money as “preparation” for the upcoming rapture into heaven. The glorious wave would wash us up into glory with God. Maybe he actually believed it, but he also believed in their money.

I stood helplessly by as they attacked him. One part of me could not stop them, because everything that I had known about him had come unveiled before me.

But what followed unveiled even more to me about God. I had heard my husband preach His words for my entire life, and never could I put those words with what the world has turned into. He was supposed to have defeated death, and instead, the dead
rose and took the lives of those unfortunate enough to be caught in their paths. This wasn’t the resurrection of the just, but the death of fools. There was no conquest over death, only the spewing forth of the legion of dead from the gates of Hell. This world has become, by extension, a part of Hell, forever attached to Satan’s dominion through the dead that refuse to go forth into paradise or damnation.

How can
I reconcile the words from the Book with the visions of horror that plague my mind? Where is the promise of love from a God that has allowed his creation, made in his image, to be corrupted by the very thing His Son was supposed to have defeated? Is this the end of the world prophesied by John? If so, where are the saints and the just? These people who I’m  with have no belief in their savior and God, yet here they are, my saviors. Those who I would have known to be saints in the eyes of man walk now, among the dead, flesh rotting away from their demonic corpses, forever doomed to a damned existence, roaming the earth alongside Satan.

Where has it all gone wrong? My husband would laugh and tell me that God is testing my faith, by making me look beyond the good book and to see into my heart. My husband is dead
, and is most likely part of the legion of the dead. His laughter rings hollow in my ears, the stench of his putrid words wafting up with the flies hovering over his walking corpse.

The real test is the test of truth. God proclaimed that His truth was absolute, that His words were the end all of faith. One didn’t need to see to believe. But what I see are the dead walking, a flood ready to cleanse the earth of the living. What I see is the salvation of ammunition, preached from the end of a rifle.
The holy retribution of fire spewing forth from guns.

I
’ve  spent these days in a new found light. My faith has been tossed aside as harmlessly as a used tissue; pointless and without further use. I don’t require proof of God’s glory, for his failure is evident upon the very earth He created. I looked up to the heavens and didn’t see the Lord, but instead I saw the end of all things, colored green upon the firmament.

I know what they would say, the other preachers and prophets. This is the end times, the beginning of the end of the world. The dead have risen to bring about the end, and we should all
await to return of our Savior, triumphant and glorious. He should bring his army of angels, all armed to the teeth and ready to deal out vengeance, or he will only meet his own end upon the gnashing and grinding of the teeth of the dead.

Of course, the best answer is that He is simply not what the book says. He did make the first zombie.

I feel sorrow as I write this. I had nothing else other than the love towards my husband, and the love towards my God. I’ve  been set adrift among this sea of death, and there is no wind in my sails. And now I find myself useless, a victim to giving everything up to Him. I followed a course in life where I assumed everything was taken care of, and now I find myself unable to provide even the smallest of uses to those around me, who do not care who or what I believe in.

I see some of them beginning to love again, despite the horror and death afflicted upon them, and I cried inside, with envy. I had
love my entire life, only to find now I never had any. I feel the sting of further loss without having been able to have my own children and my anger towards my husband and God increases ever so. I’ll  never be able to have children, and have been punished for my life.

There must be a new direction to follow. I tremble when I attempt to pick up a Bible and try to read, only to slam it down in anger and frustration.
I’ve  cried out to the heavens, and heard nothing back. My heart yearns for a peace only He was supposed to give me, and I find it filled with dread and despair. I attempt to pray, only to have my words drowned out by the moans and groans of the billions who cry out in their perpetual death. The God of life and love has become the Lord of a dead world, and I the fool who wasted my precious life to this new God of death.

Why, oh Lord, have you led me astray?
Why have you allowed death to be victorious?

Why did you allow me to be deceived?

I will not hear His answer, for maybe he has also been swept away by the walking dead, and his divine moaning and groaning can only be stopped with a bullet to the brain.

 

Entry 31 – People
[30]

Everyone seems to have fallen into their own here. Each has developed their own pattern, with their own rooms and routines. I feel comfortable in leaving for a few days, as I take my own little personal hike of reflection. I of course, was extra enthused when Heather asked to come along. This would be the first time I hiked with someone else, other than my father, or fellow hiker. This was someone else. Of course, in my poor little deluded mind, the future was racing out in front of me. I dreamed of children, growing up and teaching them how to live in this new world. I dreamed of life with Heather, even growing old together. It was a dream I had dreamed for many years, but never with any solid face behind the woman I was with.

Of course, this is my poor teenage self, deeply hidden underneath layers of a little bit of adulthood shining through. We have really only made this connection in the past two days, and it’s really a connection based out of high stress and uncertainty. It is almost a “last man on earth” situation going on here, but at the moment,
I’m  going with it.

Tague and Chris should return today
, if everything has gone well out at the TV station. I’m  curious as to how everything has gone over there. I’m  more curious though as to how Heather, the somewhat new Heather, reacts to having Chris around again. She may change her mind about going with me, which, would be ok.

Aaron and Lucy have become the house’s local married couple. They argue a lot, but really only about their tasks of inventorying the rooms down below.
Besides that, they laugh a lot, and sit together a lot, not talking unless it’s something worth laughing at. I’m  not sure how either of them does it, managing with what both have suffered, together. Maybe, this is how they manage.

Evan is a creature all unto himself. He has taken to setting up the firing range and going through the weapons. He is always the jokester, although his jokes are rarely any good.
I’m  pretty sure he knows that, and that whole concept is what makes him that more amusing. He’s  an avid talker at mealtimes, willing to talk about anything at all. He was even brave enough to ask Aaron and Lucy if they were noisy at night, because “I sure as hell haven’t heard anything”. I know behind the jokes and bad humor, there’s  actually a bright man.

Dawn’s mood, on the other hand, has darkened considerably
. She’s  gone from being the cheery woman, to a somewhat brooding and depressing one. She’s  remained quite silent lately during meals, somewhat lost in her own thoughts. She did give me her own addition to the journal entries tonight, so maybe I’ll  have a glimpse of what is going in her head. At this point, I don’t think I would be surprised with anything relating to my guests. Each one has suffered in their own way, and is dealing with it, in his or her own way.

I
’ve  finished packing up what Heather and I need for the trip. I know that supper will follow soon, and hopefully, Tague and Chris returning shortly afterwards, in the early evening. If all things stay the same, we’ll  be on the trail early tomorrow morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evan’s Notes: With everything that was going on, most of us didn’t realize what was going on between Brian and Heather. I smile thinking of them and remembering those days.

Also, I thought my jokes were good.

And I know full well Aaron and Lucy were having lots of sex those days.

Entry 32 – Recording

Voice recording transcription taken off of the computer networked to the TV transmitter station. Audio downloaded automatically from the remote transmitter and transcribed by Tague.

First voice
“…at about 10 pm. Although maybe later.”

Second voice
“I won’t be there. I’ve  been tasked to search out potential locations, just south of the city.”

First voice
“Where are you located at?”

Second voice
“Just south of the old Biltmore Country Club. About one click south, on Highway 25.”

First voice
“How is the activity there?”

Second voice
“Reasonable, about ten encounters per hour. Word is activity is incredibly worse in the northern part of the town, near the university and the interstate.”

First voice
“I can confirm that. I’m  holed up in one of the buildings here at the university. From the third floor, I can easily see more than one hundred encounters. I’m  just waiting for the distraction so that I can leave. Central mentioned they would be here around 5 pm this afternoon. If not, then I spend the night here.”

Second
voice
“How are your supplies?”

First voice
“Decent. If I get out today, I’ll  see if I can hitch a ride back to central.”

Second voice
“Is central still back at Black Mountain?”

First
voice
“Yeah, aren’t you in touch?”

Second voice
“It’s  been six days since I’ve  been able to reach anyone.”

First voice
“Odd, it’s only been two days for me.”

Second voice
“Best of luck.”

First voice
“Thank you. What’s the range of your search?”

Second voice
“Down south to the airport and west of that location. Central has some ideas of where the datila
(sp)
might be.”

First voice
“So far, their guesses have been quite wrong. I still think we need to look further west, maybe into Tennessee. Did you hear about the one they found in Georgia?”

Second voice
“The one they actually found with survivors? Yeah, I heard. Gruesome.”

First voice
“What will you do if you find survivors?”

Second voice
“Have to do what central commands. Survivors are a liability.”

First voice
“Yeah, but to wipe them out? Just like that? Shouldn’t we find out what they know?”

Second voice
“Central says that these survivors were random, just people who found the datila
(sp).
They wouldn’t have known anything.”

First voice
“Better them than us.”

Second voice
“We follow Inanna.”
(sp).

First voice
“We follow Inanna.”
(sp).

 

Entry 33 – Others
[31]

Our small hiking trip has been put on hold for now. The new information that Tague and Chris brought home with them was the issue of the evening, and has brought everyone together after breakfast. Last night, we had only been dealing with the things that Tague and Chris had heard, but this morning, Tague found out that the transmission had actually been recorded by one of the computers here at the house that was linked to the transmitting tower over on Mt Pisgah. It was essentially what Tague had referred to us, but actually hearing the words spoken by the two strangers brought the issue home for us.

I had always assumed that there were others out there, survivors, like
myself. Many times I had also thought about the very likely possibility that many out there that had survived, would take the new chaotic world to carve out a new world for themselves. Usually, for many of humanity’s worst examples, that kind of carving could be quite literal. Therefore, it wasn’t really surprising to me that some of the first people I encountered out in this new world were of the more cruder, violent type. In fact, I think I had been quite lucky to meet the group I’m  with now, instead of someone more like the voices being transmitted by the radios.

But what hit home was the fact that these two men
, and whatever group they were a part of, were searching for something specific, and all of us in our large dining room could understand that somehow, they were talking about us. Specifically, talking about the house. We have no way of being sure of that, but it certainly seemed to make sense. Whatever this datila was, it could have people inside of it. In this new world, my house was certainly a highly valuable commodity, and I already knew that my father had been together with a larger, wealthier group, probably making many more of these underground (or not) survival forts.

What little we could get from the recorded conversation
, was that these places were being searched for. It was still possible that our house was not this datila, but regardless, there were men out there searching for something valuable in the area and were willing to kill, gruesomely, whomever they might find at these places.

We had a few options. First, we could easily just lock ourselves back up into the house. The entrance would be virtually impossible to find
, unless you knew exactly where to look, and it appeared that these men did not have specific locations. Inside, as we had already figured out, we could easily live for many years, if needed, most likely outlasting any current search of the area. We did have the transmitter tower up and running, and while that could be our ears to the outside, it could also lead people straight back to the house. While there were no direct instructions at the tower on how to reach the house, it was probably possible to trace the wireless signal that kept the computers here and at the tower networked. The tower stood out, and might be something these men might search.

The other option would be to actively guard our house. Evan and Aaron suggest patrols. Actively patrolling might help us find one of more of these men
, before they were able to find us. Unfortunately, this would involve us having to improve our weapon skills dramatically, and I was really the only one who knew the land and trails located around the house well enough to know where to go. The rest would have to follow maps, and this uncertainty could hinder us in our efforts to patrol successfully. We could just as easily run into any of these men, as they could into us.

I
’m  quite mixed as to which option was the best. Ideally, I would much rather just stay tucked and hidden safely within our house. At the same time, I felt like we needed to find out more. If there was a larger group out there that was building a new world out of the current dying world, it would be in our interest to find out about them.

And just who is
Inanna?

 

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