by Voss Foster
to get at them with the medallion.
I want that money. Twenty million dollars. I can hole up here and be just fine, too. No need to run about looking for people. Eventually, they'll find me. Will replan if I run out of food before then. Already gathered provisions from surrounding trailers. Should be able to stay here a while. Will improve traps and alarms tomorrow. Sleeping now.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 04JUSTICE
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/12/2074
I'm a fucking idiot. I'm letting everything get twisted around in my head. This Desiree, I think I like her too much. Not, like, loving kind of way or anything, but definitely something. She's hard not to like. She's kind and kind of broken, and I can't resist someone broken. I see so many broken people driving cab. So many people in general, but the broken ones stand out to me. Always have, and it's been known to get me in a lot of fucking trouble. When you get involved with broken people, things don't necessarily turn out for the best. Not in my experience.
And that's why I'm a fucking idiot. She's so broken, she believes in God. Honestly, how the hell can she believe in some benevolent, all-loving sky daddy when we've all been chucked in this fucking nightmare? I don't get it, and I just worry that she's not strong enough. And if I'm attached to her, however I'm getting attached to her, that's a weakness to me, too.
I'm doing my best not to let her get too close, or let me get too close. I don't think I can afford that. But I also don't think it's working. I keep finding myself wanting to spend time with her. I even thought about what would happen if someone attacked her. Trying to work it out so I could have some kind of rough escape from the whole thing, if escape was an option. But I kept on feeling this little tug in my guts. I want to fucking protect her. Just like I do with every other broken person I find. I try to protect them, and that's what gets me in trouble.
You'd think I'd learn my God damn lesson.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 05CRAIG
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/12/2074
I just about died. I'm good. I think I'm good. But I can't really say anything for sure. I'm currently with the lady who wanted to kill me. I think I have her trust, but it's not really an auspicious way to start off a relationship.
I was still looking for tools, and hers was the next trailer in line. The lights were off, so I couldn't see a damn thing. That's where the problems started. She set up traps. Primitive traps, but pretty good, considering that she didn't have tools. Or she claimed she didn't have tools. I probably believe that claim, though. Haven't seen so much as a screwdriver in the whole time I've been out looking.
So I fell in a hole. And the lights came on. I saw a figure and I did the only thing I could think of. Closed my eyes and pressed the button on the medallion. I could see the brightness of it through my eyelids.
The hole was shallow enough that I managed to get out, but I didn't get away. Either she wasn't looking at the flash when it went off or she grabbed after the sounds I was making, or she just got really, really lucky, I don't know for sure. But she got hold of me. Threatened to burn straight through my head. Crazy jabber or justified threat, I wasn't going to take the risk. So I started talking. The only thing that came out of my mouth was shit about engineering. With the lights on in the trailer, I could see some of the traps and shit she'd put together. I started telling her how she could fix them. I don't know. I wasn't exactly in full control of myself.
Apparently, she liked what she heard. A little. Not enough to put the medallion down, but enough to let me go. She kept asking all these questions about the traps. I figured it was either come up with some possible fixes for her setup or find out what that medallion could actually do, so I talked. It was probably an hour. She didn't say much. Very concise. But I must have pleased her. She offered not to kill me if I could help her out. I wasn't entirely sure that I could. I mean, no tools, if I was to believe her. But I went for it.
So that's where I am: a silent room, sitting across from my captor. Or ally. I'm still a little fuzzy on the exact nature of our relationship. Fuzzy enough that I'm planning on keeping a sharpened up piece of metal siding in bed with me tonight. Just in case. But maybe I'll be okay. And once I get some alone time with her scrabbled together tools, I can break into the CESU and get the hell away. At least, that's my best plan right now. Which means I really am desperate.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 07JULIA
ENTRY 003
DATE: 1/13/2074
I'm so happy that Christina came back again. It gives me more to cook for and I'm actually feeling pretty good. I feel useful. I haven't felt useful since I moved in here.
Christina's finally starting to relax, too. She actually took her jacket off for dinner, which is a big step. She looks like she takes care of herself. Her skin is a bit of a nightmare. She probably wore a lot of makeup. She looks like some kind of businesswoman, to me. Slacks, jacket, nice shirt. Like she just got yanked off the sidewalk on the way to some corporate skyscraper sort of job.
I think I could get used to having her around. I'm going to offer her one of the other bedrooms, after dinner. She can take whichever she wants. She's told me several times that she doesn't want to stay here. She doesn't trust me. But lately, she's not putting as much force behind the words. Or it's just my imagining it. I could see myself getting close to her, if she'll actually allow it. I think she will, too. It might take a little bit of time, a few more days, maybe a couple weeks. It seems to me that I have a lot of time to work her down. But I want to keep her around. She makes me feel good. Beyond the extra cooking I get to do with her around, too. She just kind of makes me feel good. And I like that.
ENTRY END
JOURNAL 09TINA
ENTRY 004
DATE: 1/14/2074
I'm so lucky to be alive right now. But I am alive, and I have this Craig guy to thank for it. Not my stupid ass, that's for sure. I couldn't just hole up in my house alone anymore. I was weak, and I admit it. Rather than push through or find a way to stop the stupid, pointless paranoia, I ran away. At the time, I guess it must have made sense. I wasn't doing well in the house, so leave, right? Leave and run out into the huge death trap trailer park for everyone to kill me. At least I didn't go and use the medallion against a flutter in the wind. That kind of noise would have drawn everyone straight to me, I bet.
It didn't save me. I tripped over a hole and didn't think anything of it. But pulling away didn't happen. It was a snare. A painful snare. Whoever made it stuck some nails or tacks in there. As soon as it tightened, it drew blood. But when I fell, I didn't quite have the mental capacity to figure that out. All I could think was shit, shit, shit, shit, get away. And pulling like that just dug the sharp shit deeper into my ankle, which made me panic even more.
When the lights came on in a trailer, my head cleared. That's when I looked down and saw the snare around my leg. White fabric, twisted and knotted and reddening with my blood. I slid back, grabbed the knot, and pulled it loose. I saw a shadow come my way and yanked my foot out. Too late, though. I managed to get to my feet and raise up my medallion, but there was another one pointing in my face. The lady carrying it was a little dumpy looking, with totally unnatural red hair. I didn't get any more than that. Fear tends to blur things out.
I tried to threaten her, but I couldn't make words. I could see the difference between us, and it left me in a weaker position. Weak, weak, weak. My hand was shaking, but her medallion stayed even, aimed right at my head.
I don't remember exactly what she said, but it meant that I wasn't walking away. That's when I got my ass saved. I heard someone else coming and figured one or both of us were screwed. I was leaning toward whoever it was probably killing both of us.
But he put himself right in the middle. Him, I heard fine. That's how it always works, I fi
gure. No one ever mishears their savior.
"Susan, just wait."
"All but one of us has to die. I don't want to go through you, but I will. You already did your part."
"She could help. She got out."
"Doesn't matter."
Bless him, I knew he was trying to help. But it was a snare. Who can't get out of a snare? At least once they see it. But he didn't give up.
"You don’t know what she can do. She could be helpful."
"Two is already too many people. I won't have three."
I just started talking. I said anything I could. And all I could think about were the traps that I, like an idiot, had gotten into. In the light from her trailer, I could see things a little better. Simple things, but effective. More snares, some crude nets made out of fabric, holes, sharp things scattered around.
About the stupidest thing I could have done, but I started criticizing. The couple nets strung up in trees or from the eaves of the trailer were easy to cut or tear through. The holes weren't deep enough to do real damage, unless someone sprained an ankle. No alarms.
That got a reaction from Susan. "Plenty of alarms. You don't need to hear them."
Craig sighed. "Don't you think she can help us? She already found errors that I could fix."
I hadn't. This was about as good as I could think it would get, given the lack of any real tools. I never would have thought to make traps in the first place. That would have been a lot better than running around like an idiot in the dark.
Susan lowered her medallion.