The Bath Salts Journals (Volume 1)

by Alisse Lee Goldenberg

  Oh. Oh! Shit. “Does that mean…?”

  He smiled. “Yes.” He stood up, came towards me, and opened his arms.

  “…um, I’m covered in blood.”

  “I don’t care.”

  I hope we’re okay. He understands the duality, I think. It’s good he’s so patient; I must be a nightmare to be with.

  I’ll tell him when I leave, and he’ll come with me if he can. Just, he asked me not to beat or kill people. Zombie killing only. I promised not to beat or kill people unless they fucking deserve it. We can work this out and compromise. Somehow. I was Xuân on My Own for so long, I don’t know how to be Xuân and Mike. But I will.

  And I need to find a channel of some kind for my aggression. Maybe I will teach the sprogs how to handle machetes and swords. Just wooden ones at first, like I showed Graham in the summer when we re-enacted the battle of Agincourt.

  March 29

  I needed a day to absorb what’s happened here.

  Yesterday, we pulled into our driveway to see there were lights on in the main floor of our house. My heart was filled with dread. It was such a horrible ending to a day that was filled with two zombie sightings, and the confirmation that we did live inside a “safe zone.”

  We pulled onto our street, happy and tired from a full day’s drive. And we saw the lights on. Someone was in our house. I wanted to lay my head on the steering wheel and cry. David pulled up next to me and got out of the car. He saw how upset I was, marched over to the door of our house, pulled out his key, and went in, a grim look of determination on his face. I just couldn’t bring myself to follow him. He stayed in there for what felt like hours.

  He came out with tears on his face. I was shocked. It had been so long since I’d seen him cry.

  “There is a squatter in there,” he told me when I rolled down my window. “Won’t leave. I said he’d have to speak to you first.”

  I was disappointed. Shocked. Angry. How dare they deny my children their home? I drew up what strength I had, determined to throw them physically out of my house. I marched through the door and went inside. The house looked spotless. It was well cared for, nothing had been moved or changed. I saw that the basement windows and doors had once been boarded up, but those boards had been carefully removed.

  I walked through the front of the house to the family room at the back and saw the squatter. It was my brother, Loren. I think I let out a cry. I know we ran to each other and held each other for the longest time. This squatter could definitely stay.

  “I kept trying to call you back,” I said to him.

  “We were told that the satellites went down,” he told me. “I tried to reach you too. David told me that you lost Olivia. I am so sorry. I liked her.”

  He came out with me and was greeted by Xuân with a giant hug. He helped bring the children in from the car, and they recognized him by his voice as their uncle from the phone. He helped me read them stories and put them to bed. We released the goats into the backyard, and we all went inside, home at last.

  Today we converted the children’s cribs into toddler beds and took inventory of the house. Loren is sleeping on the futon in what was once my office, while Xuân and Mike have the guest bedroom. Dan has claimed the basement as his.

  I completely believed I would never see this place again. I don’t know how we did it, but we got our children home.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Alexis has the luck of Cthulhu. Her house is standing tall and strong in the street, and sweet, sweet hell, her brother was there! And NOT a zombie, either! She is home.

  Now I need to make one. For me. And Mike. And Crypto!

  March 30

  Today was a day of considerable ups and downs. I woke up in my own bed, in the master bedroom of my own house. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I still cannot believe this happened!

  I took a long hot shower and went downstairs for breakfast before going outside to milk Doogoo. When I came back in the house, I saw Loren having a serious conversation with Xuân, Mike, and Dan. They broke it up when I entered the room.

  No one seemed to want to let me know what was going on. I found David in the family room playing with the children. Ethan, Benjamin, and Samantha seem overwhelmed by the number of toys that have resurfaced and are begging to be played with. They don’t know what to latch on to first!

  Loren then walked David and me to what used to be our big box grocery store. It has now been converted into a giant indoor market, where people who are living in the area barter and trade for whatever goods they need.

  I brought several jars of goat’s milk and logs of goat’s cheese with me to trade with. We spent some time there speaking to the people around us and catching up on all we’ve missed. I managed to acquire a couple of loaves of bread, some meat, and some fruits and vegetables for what I brought to trade.

  While in the market, we asked around to see if anyone we knew had survived. So far, no one seems to know anything. It was frustrating, but I did find out some unsettling news.

  Apparently, a group fighting for the rights of the “Differently Living” is gaining followers. They seem to think that the zombies have a right to be zombies and should not be killed. Thinking this way makes me, David, and our friends murderers simply for fighting to stay alive. These people have to be severely cracked in the head. Their whole cause makes me sick. I once advocated that people have a right to believe what they want, but this is ridiculous.

  On our way out, I overheard a conversation happening between two women. One was saying that a Mr. Levinson murdered his wife. Turns out he shot her in the head and is claiming she had been turned. However, the police found no bite marks or scratches on her. The cause of death was a gunshot, not zombie attack.

  People are using the zombie threat to attempt to get away with murder, and this is also outrageous. I don’t know what’s worse; these “advocates,” or these killers.

  We got home to a surprise. Our children weren’t there, and neither were our friends. In fact, all our friends’ belongings were not in the house. I had a moment of panic as we put our things away in the kitchen until Loren told me what had happened.

  Xuân and Mike approached him saying that they don’t want to take over our lives or our house. However, they don’t want to leave us either. Dan feels the same way. My brother informed them that our neighbour has not returned. Her house still stands empty and everything in it is in full working order. He suggested they move in there, at least until she does come back.

  They thought this was a good idea, and with the triplets’ help, moved their belongings over. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know if I was upset, hurt, angry, or a little bit relieved. I’m still not sure.

  David and I marched over there and let them have it. I think I’m more upset that they didn’t tell us how they were feeling.

  “We knew that if we’d told you what we were planning, you’d talk us out of it,” Xuân said to me.

  She’s right. I probably would have tried to do just that. I suppose that, in retrospect, it’s no different than when we lived in the two trailers, one next door to the other. We still plan to have dinner together every night. If we want to, anyway. I think we will. It would be too strange not to.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  According to some nutters, I’m a mass murderer. Well, fuck you up the dickhole with a bag of rusty carrots. I’d like to put you crazy fucks in a pit with a zombie and then can you still tell me they are just living an alternative lifestyle? Fuckheads.

  March 31

  In honour of the first full day in their new home, Xuân, Mike, and Dan had us all over for Easter dinner. Xuân decided to pull all the stops out and show us all just how well she can cook. She spent most of the day working through a rather complicated menu and I have to say that the effort was well worth it.

  We ate like kings in their new dining room. I admit that part of me felt a little weird using our old neighbour’s furniture and dishes, but I know that our
friends would gladly return it all if and when she returns.

  We dined on appetizers of beef skewers with a lime dipping sauce, lemongrass chicken soup, and vegetarian summer rolls. Our main course was a roast lamb with rosemary and red potatoes. Mike had contributed to the meal with a sweet potato soufflé, and Dan had made a lovely green salad. Xuân told us that she had based the appetizers on things that her family had made every holiday. I thought it was a lovely nod to tradition.

  We sat around the table and spent the evening just talking and sharing ideas and plans for the future. In the summer, we intend to take down a part of the fence separating our two back yards to make one large space for the kids and animals to run.

  Xuân wants to repaint many of the rooms in the house. She says that even if the original owner does return, she would appreciate it. It is clear that the place has seen some rough times over the past little while.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  I feel safer in numbers, so we’ve moved in next door. Dan lives in our basement.

  Mike took two cigarette packs, and went to the market. He came home with some wine, rum, and a bunch of luxury foods. Then Mike and I spent the day christening the house. Dan did not come up. I think he left at some point. Smart man.

  April 1

  Two soldiers came to our homes today. They came to tell us the rules of the community and to give us an overview of how things are working. They want everyone here to be productive members of society, and I agree with their point of view. It just seems as if there was an unspoken “or else” hiding in there.

  They asked us what we did before the zombie outbreak and I told them that I have my Bachelor of Education, my husband was a theatre producer, and my brother was a student who also has some directing experience. We were told that when schools were set up, I would be able to help there, but they were unsure of what to do with the men.

  David jumped on this comment and said that now, more than ever, it was important to keep spirits up. Theatre was the best way to do that. He and my brother have a large collection of scripts and scores that could be used. He suggested they allow us to organize a show.

  The soldiers seemed intrigued by this proposition. We would do this on a volunteer basis and use the people in the community with talent. The theatre David used to use for his productions is within the community, so it would not be a problem provided the lights and sound board still work. We seemed so enthusiastic about this project; the soldiers think we’re either geniuses or nuts. Maybe a bit of both.

  Before they left, they said we should give them names of people we are searching for. They are compiling a list that can be shared between communities to help loved ones find each other. I gave them everyone I could think of. I hope I get news soon.

  Over dinner, we shared our idea with Xuân, Dan, and Mike. Dan seemed subdued, but everyone else was on board to help in any way they could.

  After the meal, I pulled Dan aside to talk about what was bothering him.

  “We should be doing this with Olivia,” Dan said to me. “This was her plan.”

  I hugged him tight and told him some nonsense about how it would all be all right.

  “We’ll do this for her,” I said to him. “She told me what show she wanted to see done. We’ll do that and make her proud.”

  “Thank you,” Dan said to me.

  We went back into the kitchen and told the others what we had decided. Into the Woods is a go, in Olivia’s memory. This is going to be amazing.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  I think I was just drafted for something.

  Two soldiers came today. They asked what we did before, and I also showed them Major Pepper’s documents. It made them stop and stare.

  Apparently, this kind of shit doesn’t happen often…and Major Pepper is now some kind of big wig.

  They left and I saw them talking on the radio in their jeep.

  Like an hour later, some officer-type looking soldiers showed up. Along with Major Pepper! Who has been promoted to a something or another in charge of Southern Ontario.

  So she tells me that when I go on my night time patrols, the army guys I’ve been running into have been keeping track of how many times they’ve seen civilians with these kinds of papers. Mine have been seen a lot. So much so, that they’re keeping a count of how many zombies I kill. I can’t just bury the bodies in a hole here—I have to tell soldiers when I kill one so that they can dispose of it safely.

  She then asked me how I was adjusting.

  Mike and I looked at each other. He nodded. I should ‘fess up.

  “I’m having some trouble. I know I’m breaking curfew, but I go out at night, sometimes out of the safe zones, because I suppose I feel like I need to keep protecting everybody here. No one needs a fundraiser/event planner/archivist right now.”

  “Other civilians have had some trouble coming back to society. We have some of them joining a civilian task force. It’s not exactly army, more undercover. The army is stretched very thin; we don’t have the resources we used to. You would be doing self-defence teaching for communities and…other tasks. Ones that you have shown yourself suitable for.”

  I think we were both surprised. I’m not sure what she meant. Like a zombie killing team?

  “Er. Do you have more info?”

  “No, we’re trying to keep this under wraps. I can tell you more, but you’d need to sign a nondisclosure agreement, among other things. But it’s highly advisable for you to be interested.”

  Highly advisable? I don’t know if I like the sound of that. I could feel Mike’s hand, tense on my knee. He was worried. He was scared. I was too, but I was also kinda excited.

  “Can we think about this?”

  “Certainly. If you agree to hear more, you will both have to sign the agreement. We’re very interested in you, Xuân, but in this new world, we have to take family dynamics into consideration and so, Mike, you would also be required to sign the nondisclosure agreement. And then we can tell you some of the particulars.”

  I was kinda quiet at dinner as the others bubbled about the idea of a theatre production as a morale-lifting idea. That would be cool. But I was thinking mostly of other things.

  April 3

  Mike designed and printed posters advertising auditions for our upcoming production of Into the Woods. They will be happening later this week.

  All day, people have been coming out of the woodwork to sign up, volunteer to help backstage, and ask about getting tickets.

  The instant the signs went up, it was like a sudden spike in morale went through the community. This show has brought hope to the community. It’s a source of hope that life is going on, and it will be a source of entertainment put on by living breathing performers.

  Xuân will be our stage manager and is excited by the prospect of yelling at actors. I will be doing costumes and props. I can’t wait to build masks for our witch and wolf out of odds and ends.

  Today I had an encounter with a zombie. It was a sign that it is not all over.

  I was taking Sebastian for a walk in the park when I heard the moan. I turned and saw it lurch out of the bushes towards me. I grabbed my knife and instantly ran towards it, stabbing it through the eye socket. I shuddered at the blood on my hand. Sebastian and I ran for the nearest army vehicle and told the soldiers what had happened.

  But one zombie is not terrible. We still have it pretty good. We are a part of a community. We are once again doing what we love. I have to remember to count my blessings.

  * * * Xuân * * *

  Mike is designing posters and stuff for the theatre production.

  I feel useless. I’m just kind of puttering around. I’m supposed to be the stage manager, but I don’t know what that means, other than yelling at people.

  I was sitting outside after dinner on the back stoop with Crypto. I just watched her chasing dragonflies and not being fast enough to catch any. I remembered my lost girl, my girl from so long ago who was taken from me. She could catch
dragonflies out of midair and was completely fearless. My beautiful and wild girl. The feral hunter.

  Mike came and sat down next to me. We sat next to each other, touching legs, but we didn’t say anything.

  Crypto came bounding up proudly with a stick. Silly dog-cat.

  Mike praised and petted her as she dropped it in front of us. “Good girl! Very good girl!”

  “Dude, she’s not a dog.”

  “Yeah, not really. But look!” He threw the stick and she ran after it. “She’s fetching! Also, did you just ‘dude’ me?”

  Silence except for excessive praising every time she brought the stick back.

  Alexis came out to let Sebastian back into her house, and she waved at us, saying we had a big day ahead of us. We waved back.

  It felt so normal. So perfectly pre-zombie. A slice of suburban daily life. I was going to learn to bake bread the next day.

  Fuck, I was bored.

  He knew it, too. We hadn’t talked about the army proposition, but it was there, trying to push its way forward every second.

  “Go.”

  “Hmm? What was that?”

  He turned to me, and he looked sad. “Just go and see what the whole thing is about. You want to, and it’s killing you not to…uh…well, kill zombies. Shit, I speak English good.”