by Voss Foster
that.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 12DAVID
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/2/2074
Yesterday was uneventful. I meant to write a journal entry, but nothing seemed important enough to warrant documentation. This might be the wrong idea. The journals are meant to keep us sane, so maybe I should be keeping up on it, eventful day or not. There isn't much else to do, really. I seem to have calmed down today, which is good. Yesterday was nearly too much for me. What is this place? Why me? What game are we playing? I know it must be some fabrication, but from who?
I need to stop doing that. All the questions were what caused my problems yesterday. I couldn't stop them. And so I didn't move. I still haven't eaten, and I don't remember the last time I did before coming here. A lot of the days leading up to finding myself here are fuzzy.
But this morning, I left the house. That's when I found the boy. Maybe in his mid-twenties. He was probably more scared than I was. It was good for me, being able to take care of someone. It got me to thinking. No matter what, we're here, at least for the time being.
The boy shakes. He's been in one of the bedrooms shouting for the past few hours. I don't know if it's a disorder or drugs, but I don't think he'll make it alone. I can take care of him until we figure this out.
Tomorrow, after food and more rest, we'll go look around outside to see what we can see. Hopefully, we'll find out the punch line to this joke.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 11SUSAN
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/2/2074
I'm frightened. Must keep the medallion close and keep it charged as much as possible. The recharge is slow. Twenty million dollars is enough to keep you happy for life. If you survive. More than enough to kill for. The others have figured it out or they will. Either way. That's why I need the medallion. Twenty million is enough for me to kill, too. So is my life. I don't understand anything, and I don't care to find out. None of it matters. The goal of this is survival, which means that some won't survive. And I simply don't want that to be me. That's all I need to understand.
ENTRY END
TO: Niels Evenstad
FROM: Kathy Horstmann
SUBJECT: RE: Project: The Park
SENT 3/19/2072 AT 4:26 p.m. EST
Mr. Evenstad,
We've completed work on the final CESU. That makes forty in all. I realize that we've had the argument before, but I would be foolish not to voice my concerns a final time. The CESUs are incredibly dangerous, even when activated in controlled testing situations like those in the labs here. Putting them in the hands of civilians is even more dangerous. I urge you to reconsider.
Kathy Horstmann,
Lead Lab Technician, Evenstad Technologies
—
TO: Kathy Horstmann
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: RE: Project: The Park
SENT 3/19/2072 AT 4:58 p.m. EST
Ms. Horstmann,
Your concerns have been duly noted and will be considered at the final board meeting tomorrow. While you cannot be present at the meeting, you are welcome to send any and all information on the CESU project that you feel would be pertinent. Please send them in the standard format before 5 p.m. today. Otherwise, they will not be able to be considered.
Thank you and your team for all your hard work on this project,
Niels Evenstad,
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
TO: Kathy Horstmann
FROM: Veronica Daniels
SUBJECT: Employee Evaluation
SENT 3/20/2072 AT 8:12 a.m. EST
Ms. Horstmann,
You are receiving this message to inform you of an upcoming meeting with Mr. Evenstad regarding a recent employee evaluation. Please arrive at Mr. Evenstad's office by 10:00 a.m.
Veronica Daniels,
Administrative Assistant to Frederick Evenstad
JOURNAL 12DAVID
ENTRY 002
DATE: 1/3/2074
Nathan left bruises on my arms. I can't blame him though, can I? I mean, I about wet my pants anyway, when I heard it. The alarm was so loud, my ears rang for fifteen minutes afterward. And that voice. It filled the whole sky and rattled my bones. I always thought that was just an expression. Even a teacher can learn, though, right?
"This is your only warning. Step away from the perimeter."
And then the alarm again. Three blasts of the siren followed by the echo. For a moment or two, I'd even worried about waking people up. It was still dark in here. It was always dark in here, actually. We had to have been fully enclosed, was all I could figure. I mean, there was some light, enough to see. But not enough to see that well unless you have the trailer lights to see by.
I'd taken Nathan out with me. I didn't feel like I could trust him alone. But I'm paying for it. And the fully stocked house has no pain meds, either. At least he stopped screaming. A blessing of sorts.
Someone doesn't want us to leave. And I worry, as clear as they made it, what would happen if we tried. Is it an electric fence? Barbed wire? Worse than that? I sit there, wondering, but what good does it do?
I have to check on Nathan. He's starting to make noises again. Not screaming. Whimpering. Whimpering is bad, but it's different. I'm hoping it means some sort of change in him. Relaxation, maybe. The poor kid.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 02CHRISTINA
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/3/2074
This is unacceptable. The racket today pushed me over the edge. I even fired off a shot with that medallion thing. Have to use the back door to this place from now on. The front is totally useless.
Apparently, someone didn't read the letter. Perfect. Idiots. I guess I'd rather compete against them than someone intelligent, though. Do not attempt to leave the arena. How hard is that? Basic, English directions. Maybe they didn't speak English. I don't know. Haven't seen anybody else in the two days I've been here. In fact, the alarm was the first sign of life I've come across, besides grass.
I'm hoping that no one else tries to emulate the great escape artist today. Or tomorrow. Never again would be preferable. That alarm is too much.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 01NATHAN
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/3/2074
It's been three days. I haven't had a hit in three days. But right now, I'm able to think. No scratching, no stomach pains. But they'll come back. They always come back. Always until I get another hit. Always.
It's going to hurt. I can't go through withdrawals. I tried. Everyone knows I tried. Four times, I tried to get off the flick. Rehab, psychiatrists, doctors, interventions.
Flick, flick, flick, flick.
Shit. I'm starting to lose my thoughts again. I just… I need a hit.
ENTRY END
TO: Marta Evenstad
FROM: Niels Evenstad
SUBJECT: Agriculture
SENT 12/29/2073 AT 11:53 a.m. EST
Sister,
Within the next year, your promotion will be official. We will of course have to wait for the best time to announce everything to the public, but I assure you it won't be long. In the meantime, we've opened up applications to fill the necessary positions for your company. Please review them and make the best decisions you can. More than anything else, the success of this venture will assure our family security. If we can provide food for even slightly lower than the other companies in the game, we'll have the advantage, and we'll have the control. From there, we build up our resources. But we need you to get us the land, Marta.
I wish you the best of luck, dear sister,
Niels Evenstad
Chief Operating Officer, Evenstad Media
JOURNAL 08DESIREE
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/4/2074
God, I can't stand it. No more of this dark. I feel like I'm half blind. The only time I feel remotely like myself is in the trailer. But that's not making anything any better. Believe me, God, I'm thankful that You've provided me with so much: shelter, food, water, blessed light. But I know that the endless dim is still out there waiting for me. And I'm not going to think about the things that could be in there. I'm not. I know You'll see me home safe, Lord. That's all I've got that keeps me going, and I thank You for that, too. And I thank You for the medallion You had them give to me. I know this ain't anything that a man could put here on Earth. You've given me the power to disappear. Only for a few seconds, but it has saved me. When I disappear, I know that nothing in that darkness can do anything to me.
I praise you, Lord.
Amen.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/4/2074
When I woke up this morning, I was breathing, not screaming. It's good. The screaming was bad. I just knew that there was something coming. Then came the crying. I still did that this morning, but no screaming. I wasn't convinced that I would see someone looming over me. I wasn't convinced that I needed to clutch to the medallion, ready to release whatever was inside. That slicing thing.
I hope its progress. Maybe it would be years. Maybe it would just be until we died off. I have no family left to worry about, only a few friends who really matter. I could die here, as long as it was natural. But I won't be killed. I don't want death to hurt. I don't want to keep screaming.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA
ENTRY 001
DATE: 1/5/2074
I finally saw my first person. They were outside my window. I just caught a