I don’t know what to expect when we step outside. Before I sat down to write this, I did look across the landscape from the upstairs windows and didn’t see any of those creatures wandering through the fields. Hopefully, that will make our passage to the main roads a touch safer. I doubt it, though; I can’t imagine that all of those beasts just disappeared (and I am sure they are hungry as well).
If I have my bearings straight, if we hit Route 18, there will a few stores about a mile up the hill. I think that there is a grocery store up there that would take care of all of our needs with both food and vitamins. Who knows, there may be some other survivors as well, and if we are lucky, maybe your father. I miss him; I miss him a lot. It is hard to explain to you in these pages, but my heart aches without him here. I want to feel his warmth, and that sweet caress or peck on the cheek that soothes me when I am down or upset. Damn it, I am starting to get emotional, and I can’t afford that as we begin the next portion of our journey. Stay strong Eli. I love you.
II
I feel sorry for her, the nightmare she is living through should not ever be experienced by anyone. The amount of pain and stress she is under has to be immeasurable. I have no idea how I would react if I were there. I would probably just give up; I know I am nowhere near as strong as she is.
Now that I have checked in on Gabrielle, why don’t I change directions and add an entry from the man searching for her? While his misery runs deep, his dreams and desires could in no way be as terrorizing as those being experienced by Natalie. Sorry, Gabrielle. I guess my mind is compensating for the pain I am feeling right now not knowing what is happening to her.
(Click) Gabrielle, where are you my darling? I can feel you close to me, as your scent is forever engraved into my body and soul. I know we have not spoken, and my disfigured reflection will appall you, but the emotional bond and passionate desires we share will deflect all of my dreadful imperfections. With you, I know that our souls and bodies can combine as one and form an everlasting bond that can help is navigate through society and all of the confusion.
I know when I look into your eyes; I will see a piece of happiness that only you can harvest from within my heart. The eternity we share will not be overwhelmed by questions, and it will be spent together inside a reality shrouded in love. I had never felt this way before and never understood that possibilities that can exist, but now everything is clear.
Inside my mind, I can picture you in the distance where the once quiet streets are littered the revolting remains of innocent flesh marinated in the blood of the unforgiving. Yes, I am guilty of assisting with the spread of these atrocities, and I do long for the taste of your flesh, but I am not a monster. I know I can find the sweetness in your lips, and with that purity locate the clarity that I have been craving. Until the moment when we can be together, these thoughts and feelings will remain bound by who we are and what we have become.
Soon, Gabrielle, all our dreams will be answered. I will hold your beauty close and watch my emptiness vanish along with the loneliness that once defined me. Please stay safe until we can meet. I could not live another day if someone else consumed you. (Click)
III
Wow, the emotions inside these accounts today are too much. As I sit here, I can honestly say that I may have never felt feelings such as these. If I did, I can’t remember them. I hate to say it, but between surviving multiple tours in the war and this plague, I have almost entirely lost the ability to feel anything. That is one of the reasons I am so upset about this situation with Natalie. For the first time since the epidemic, I started to feel alive again.
I hope that someone hears from her soon. I know we are all worried about her and just a small sign could go a long way in easing our fears. Maybe I should call Janet and see if she heard anything today. I just want to know if there is any change in the situation. Who knows, that may hold off the night terrors that I am sure will torture me tonight.
Speaking of nightmares, I wonder what is happening with the other woman in the manuscript. I think when we left her, she was somewhat trapped in an apartment hiding from some rogue hit squad killing everything in their midst. Did she escape their presence? Or is she still in hiding?
Thank God! Those bastards are gone. Now, I must find my way out of here and find some stores that could help restock my supplies. I’m pretty sure that at the top of this hill there is that plaza that could have everything I need. Damn, I hope so. I would hate to run into any of the bastards out there (alive or undead) in my current capacity.
The streets look clear. I can only hope that they stay that way. Once I get started, if I stay close to the buildings, I may be able to hide if someone or something approaches me. Two bullets, what the fuck can I do with two shots? Well, at least that would be two of the beasts that meet their maker. The real challenge is those men in the armored vehicles. What the fuck was that? I still can’t place their insignia. I want to say it is Ravenwood, but I know that is from that show Jericho.
You know, if you replace the undead beasts with nukes, then would we be living in a post-apocalyptic state like outlined in that show. It definitely should have stayed on the air, that brunette was hot. Looking back, it probably hit too close to home with the information it was providing. Those men, though, they seemed something right out of fiction, burning innocent civilians without remorse. What the fuck has happened to society?
I am about to start making my way up 18; I sure hope things stay clear. I don’t want many more surprises. I don’t know how much more I can handle. I need my medications, and I need more bullets.
IV
Well, that is about where I call it quits tonight. I held out hope for the past few hours that Natalie would call; guess I am not quite that lucky. Good night everyone, I shall return at some point tomorrow with an update, and hopefully some good news about Natalie.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them…”
November 11
I decided to skip group today at the clinic and make my way down the road to Summit View. I didn’t feel like spending another afternoon at the facility without Natalie being there. Luckily, I finally found a place to sit down and relax before making the trek back into the city. This may sound hard to believe, but this area is even more rundown than I described in some of our earlier chapters. Put it this way; downtown Summit View looks more like Tombstone than a county seat.
The real surprising events of the day took place at the courthouse, where I found absolutely nothing to help prove the validity of the claims I have documented or unearthed in research. There is no documentation on vehicle transfers or governmental purchases taking place in any of the last few decades. The most recent property transfer took place when the state claimed eminent domain to build the bypass highway just outside of downtown. There is just no connection to be found between Summit View and the city.
I did meet John, an intriguing antique dealer/historian that everyone seemed to respect. While he could not point me in any one direction for answers, he did have some interesting stories. Incredibly, though, even being only 40 miles away, he hadn’t heard about any outbreak in or around the city. I guess that the media blackout was that complete.
He did dive into a piece of folklore that caught my attention. Well, at least it did a great job keeping my mind off Natalie for a few minutes. According to this legend, Summit View has their own Man of the Cloth. While I don’t readily see a connection between the two religious men, it is fascinating that the Summit View holy man also absolves people of their sins, although his method is by decapitation. True, it is not leading a horde of undead, but the results are the same.
Details about his origins are scarce, with the first mention of his appearance being early in the French and Indian War near the Great Meadow. Unfortunately, there are no historical accounts that can assist in identifying his true identity. I wish there were; I would love to know more about him and where he cam
e from. Maybe when I am done with this project, I will move on to researching this legend.
I just got word from some of the people in the therapy group that there is still no word about Natalie. I can’t believe she just disappeared. I am really worried about her; I know that there is something very wrong with this situation. I just don’t have any idea what to do. Hopefully, something changes in the next couple of hours as I am on my way home. With the terrible cell service out in this area, I can guarantee that I won’t be bothered by anything or anyone until I reach the city.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“And knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable…”
November 14
I’m sorry that I haven’t been around lately to write, but it has been over a week since Natalie disappeared and there is still no sign of her anywhere. No matter what any of us with the group has tried, we have not been able to reach her. Worst yet, her phone appears to be dead and goes straight to voicemail. A few of us even went and spent some time around her apartment to no avail; it’s like she just vanished from the face of the planet.
To make things worse for me, the voices and screams have returned at an unbearable level. I thought that this new medication was working, but over the last few days, the cries have returned with a vengeance. Every time I sit down or try to relax, the shrieks echo through my mind. It’s so bad that I swear I can hear Natalie’s voice within the chorus inside my head. Unfortunately, it’s not just the voices that have returned; the bloodstained visions of distress and suffering have come back as well.
Every time I open my eyes, I see those beasts gashing the flesh of an unwilling victim, their teeth tearing into their bodies. The blood, intestines, and gray matter shredded like paper in a mill. Oh, God Renae, look at the way their claws tore through your abdomen, your precious blood flowing like a stream into the rusting drain in the deserted street. No matter how hard I try to push it away, I can still see your lifeless pale eyes staring into my heart. The pain, the anguish, I’m so sorry!
Oh God, please, I can’t take much more of this pain. Natalie, I need you. Please come back to me; I can’t stand being without you, and I don’t think that I can bear the thought of losing anyone else. I have suffered too much already and lost too many people in my life. I’m lost, I have no one to talk to, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Fuck, please stop the screams; God, I beg you, please stop torturing me!
There has to be something I can do to stop this disembodied infestation. I have to find a way to make all of this go away. Perhaps I should dive back into this project and let the words of our victims ease my pain. Writing can be therapeutic for the mind and body, and I could definitely use some therapy right now. In this mood I’m in, I think checking in on Gabrielle would be the perfect choice to combat my terror.
I
February 15 (Continued)
Eli, you are killing me today. You are so active, what are you doing in there, backflips? That’s what it feels like. Ouch! I don’t think I have ever felt you this way. I hope that doesn’t mean you are ready to pop out, at least not yet. Trust me; I want to see you and hold you, not now in this nightmare we are trapped inside. Ouch, another kick like that and it is no more vitamins for you. I need to find something to eat soon, though. All of your activity this morning has drained all of my energy.
Honey, it’s bad today. This is already the third stop since leaving our safe-haven at the house. Although this stop was more for safety than exhaustion, I can see someone ahead of us in the distance. From what I can make out, I believe it is a woman. Unfortunately, her movements have been sporadic, and I can’t determine whether she’s been infected by one of those puss-filled maggots. I wish she would give us some sign or a movement that would give me an idea of what we are up against.
I think she’s one of us. The way she is hugging the sides of the dilapidated ruins of this once bountiful community looks strategic and well thought out. I can’t get past the signs of economic distress that surround us. Remember that there is nothing more important to a community or family than financial stability. The signs of the collapse here are disturbing, and I can tell you that the windowless buildings I am passing could never provide us any protection if something were to attack. I just hope that by the time you are old enough to read this, the damn recession is over.
Eli, you have me in quite a pickle. Every time I stop, you become even more active, and I feel like I am going to burst. But, you are so damn heavy that it hurts to walk and to run is out of the question. All I know is that I have to keep moving no matter how bad it hurts. We must continue moving; I need to find some food. I love you, Eli!
II
Insane, I wonder if the woman that Gabrielle sees in the distance is Morgan. In some ways, that would make perfect sense from their earlier accounts. If it is Morgan, I am sure Gabriele would be a lot safer with her than she is outside alone in the street. Even if there is some hormonal imbalance going on with her, Morgan at least has a gun for protection. Although, the idea of two women on the edge of sanity may not be the best thing for anyone involved; the mood swings alone could be intolerable.
Personally, I know I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near them. That could honestly be a living Hell. Of course, suffering through this entire ordeal was basically like navigating through the depths of the inferno. But, even that still sounds more enticing and less painful than being trapped with two angry and emotional women. No, I can’t say that, I would gladly deal with all of Natalie’s rage if she would return. I will admit that I might not like it, but it would be a sacrifice that I am willing to make. I just miss her and want her to return to me.
(Play) Mark, quickly turn that corner. If I’m right, that alley should take us up to that abandoned tunnel heading toward the Southside. The side streets and alleys would likely be much safer than staying on the main roads. Plus, the authorities are probably blocking the main entrances to the city and likely wouldn’t let us back in. I am sure someone set quarantine protocols.
Mark, please stop, I may have been wrong about that. I cannot see anything, but that stench is unmistakable. Fuck, turn back; I was wrong, stop! That repugnant horde is here surrounding us. I cannot see them yet, but I can smell them. You see them; I know you can; that’s why you are standing there in the street like you are frozen. It is the fear or maybe the realization that we created the monsters that have finally hit home.
Dammit it Mark, run. I can see those disgusting degenerates ahead of us in the mist. We cannot go that way. Come on Mark. We have to go. We must find a different route back into the city; we have to get back to our lab. Please, Mark, they are getting closer. Don’t do that; don’t kneel. God, that rancid stench is unbearable. Please, Mark, stand up and run. Help me solve this puzzle. I am not sure I can do it alone! (Stop)
III
The more I write about that man, the more I am starting to feel sorry for him. It had to be miserable watching all of your colleagues and friends become food for the Gods. Even if he did play a role in creating these monsters, he didn’t deserve watching everyone he associated with die. One could argue that he deserved a bullet, but watching his spawn dine on his friends may be a touch extreme. Honestly, if this is justified, what more can we expect from the all-loving God and his deeds.
As strange as this may sound to you, while watching the clip I was reminded of a passage I once heard that was written as a tribute to the late Kurt Cobain and demons he faced. Although this musical genius gave into his nightmares way before his time, his words will continue to influence society forever.
The eyes peer into my silence as I drift,
My mind trapped inside a poisoned void,
I am helpless, hypnotized within the tainted inferno,
Impaled by deceit and the cravings of flesh-
The illicit desires draw near; help me line your canvas.
Have me; I’m yours…
The needles guide me through the spiral cliffs,
My mind bl
ind to the beauty bound inside your womb,
I am powerless, fascinated by the inconceivable pleas,
Tortured by the darkness, and the forbidden depths-
The serpent draws near; trap me in your guise.
Take me; I’m waiting…
(M.M. 2015)
Chapter Twenty-Four
“And all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him.”
November 15
With every passing day, I am finding it tougher to focus on anything, especially this project. I can’t believe how hard it has become for me to buckle down and work on anything. I feel so lethargic inside, all I want to do is sit in my chair and stare at the few pictures I have sitting around. It’s a far cry from where I was a few days ago, and I can’t stand how it is making me feel.
I imagine that it’s my fault. I probably shouldn’t have made that trip down to Summit View. Between the disappointment and frustration of not discovering any new evidence for my project and hearing about their legendary Man of Cloth, I find myself falling into a downward spiral of disenchantment. Nothing I have tried has been able to motivate me to dive back into or relate this project. I think things would be different now if I could have found just one small fragment of information, just something to show me that I’m not crazy.
I have thought about things over the past few days and remain perplexed by the fact that there was absolutely nothing in the records. For all intensive purposes, it appears that someone or some agency deliberately removed any and all documentation from the files. I know that I could generate an FOIA request for the data, but that would probably only get me the evidence I already have on the vehicle transfer. Plus, I should be long finished with this manuscript before that would ever arrive (if it did at all). After all, the government may be less reputable than the media, and they are both incapable of telling the truth.
The Ridge (Book 1): After the Static Page 12