by Valerie Puri
Belle entered the loft and interrupted Jennie’s thoughts. She came over and sat next to Jennie, out of breath. “Sorry I’m late. I heard some disturbing news this morning.”
“What news?” Jennie asked. They all looked at her with anticipation.
“There was an attack last night, and Madam Marie has gone missing.”
“Madam Marie?” Travis asked in disbelief.
That would explain why Madam Marie was not there when Travis went to the kitchens this morning. Jennie frowned at the thought.
“Where did you hear this, Belle?” Jennie asked.
“I overheard it from a couple of people I work with at the solar farm,” Belle replied. “They seemed incredibly nervous about it and were barely speaking above a whisper. I had to strain to hear what they were saying, but it was unmistakable.”
“We need to get to the bottom of this,” Jennie said with determination. “This book may give us some answers.”
25
Jennie laid the book down on a small wooden crate she brought up to the loft to use as a makeshift table. Jennie glanced around at Belle, Travis, and Ethan; they were all leaning forward with anticipation. She opened the front cover of the book. It made a soft crinkling sound as the dry leather flexed. Jennie was close enough to the book that a faint, musty smell greeted her nose.
“Here we go,” she said. She scooted forward so her crossed legs touched the wooden crate. The page contained faded, handwritten words in a neat script. She read aloud for the benefit of the others.
“Day 1 —
I decided to start this journal to document what is happening. When we are all dead, maybe someone will find this and be able to learn from our mistakes.
The nights are growing longer, and our party is becoming uneasy. There are only forty-two of us left, and our numbers are slowly diminishing. No one has heeded my recommendation that we need to move on and leave the flatlands which are being overrun by lemerons. Our leader, Jeremy, scoffed at my words, saying a woman knows nothing of such things. He is headstrong, stubborn, and foolish. We have never gotten along, and he has always resented me - for what I do not know.
I know in my heart this place is no longer safe.
Day 2 —
This evening, some of the party was out in the fields gathering corn. The night was closing in, and so were the lemerons. Back in camp we heard terrible cries, but the corn was so tall we could not see where those poor, screaming people were. We gathered our weapons and went searching for our friends.
We searched the expansive field for hours, but it was too late when we found them. The lemerons were already devouring their flesh. Nothing remained but a bloody pile of bones. I fell ill at the very sight. I can still taste the vomit in my mouth.
One of the creatures looked up at me with a red stained face and gleaming, yellow eyes. It rushed at me, and I was afraid. Before I would become its next victim, I swung my sickle. The curved blade cut through some corn stalks and the lemeron’s neck. I watched as its head fell from its shoulders and rolled on the ground. The headless body fell forward and clumpy brown blood – I could only assume it was blood – spilled on the ground.
I heard another sound nearby and ran toward it. I reached there just in time to see a lemeron rip a chunk of flesh out of Jeremy’s arm with its teeth. He fell to his knees and let out another scream. It was terrible. I used my sickle to attack this lemeron and was able to remove its head, the same as the other one. I find this to be the most effective way to destroy the monsters.
I was shaking with fear, but I helped Jeremy up, and we went back to the camp where our doctor wrapped his wound with rags. As I write this account, I know that I will find no sleep tonight.
Day3 —
We had a small remembrance ceremony for those who were killed yesterday. The people are uneasy and never take their eyes off the cornfield. They are afraid of what may be lurking there, hidden from our sight.
Despite the attack, Jeremy says this place is safe, and we must remain. I am afraid he will get us all killed if he continues with this. He nearly got himself killed. Jeremy barely survived this attack, and he looks like walking death. His skin is slowly being drained of its color.
I suspect he is becoming delusional from his injury.
Day 4 —
Jeremy is no longer able to speak. When he tries to open his mouth, only a harsh sound comes out. Even though we have had our differences, I do not want to see anyone else die. I fear for the worst.
Day 5 —
I was wrong. Jeremy is not dying. It is something far worse. His eyes have developed a cloudy film, and he no longer seems to recognize any of us. Everyone is uneasy, but no one wants to acknowledge what is happening to Jeremy.
Day 6 —
I burned the cornfield today. If the lemerons are approaching, I want to see them coming. The party has started to look to me for guidance, and I will not let us sit here waiting for our inevitable doom. I have instructed everyone to gather as much food as they can carry and leave their personal possessions behind. We will abandon this forsaken place in two days’ time.
Day 7 —
Jeremy attacked me. Although it wasn’t really him - it was only his body. Jeremy died the moment that monster bit him. He has become one of them now. He has become a lemeron.
I was caught off guard when he attacked me. I heard slow shuffling footsteps behind me, and turned around to see Jeremy, now turned lemeron. He – no, it – charged toward me, trying to grab me with his boney hands. Fortunately, I was able to sidestep its advance. I grabbed a nearby ax and buried it into its skull. I suppose the old saying holds true for us in an ironic way: we buried the hatchet.
I will never be caught without a weapon on my person again.”
Horrified, Jennie stopped reading. She swallowed hard and looked up at the others. Belle’s face was white and she was biting her fingernails. Travis had his legs pulled into his chest resting his chin on his knees, his eyes were wide with terror. Ethan sat still with a rigid posture.
“So, this Jeremy person turned into a lemeron after being bitten by one?” Belle’s voice trembled as she spoke.
Ethan responded, “It seems so. I didn’t think that could happen. Then again, I have never heard of anyone surviving an attack, the victims are always…”
Ethan’s voice trailed off as he looked towards Travis. Travis was shaking, his face buried in his knees, and he was sobbing. Ethan looked at Jenny apologetically. Their mother being taken by lemerons was still hard on Travis and Jennie. They never truly knew what happened to her, but a detailed story of what happens to lemeron victims was more than unsettling.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Jennie placed a small slip of paper between the pages to mark their place and closed the book. “How about we get some more of that coffee?”
26
The coffee warmed Belle from the inside. She was thankful to be within the Commune walls, safe from the lemerons that could be lurking in the surrounding forest. The horrifying account in the book made Belle shudder. It made her realize they weren’t just dangerous, but their condition could be spread through a bite. She felt nauseous as she thought of the people being devoured by lemerons in the cornfield. Would she have the courage to defend herself against lemerons like the woman in the book did? She hoped she would never have to find out.
No one spoke as they sat around the table in Jennie’s office. Jennie was tracing the wood grain of the table with her finger. Belle noticed Ethan was watching Jennie with curious interest. She wondered if there might be something between them. From what she could determine, Jennie seemed pretty smitten with Ethan as well.
Travis sighed heavily and broke the silence that hung in the air. “I’m sorry I got so upset earlier. I just…” his voice cracked. “It’s hard hearing about the lemerons attacking someone.”
“It’s okay, Trav,” Jennie offered a sympathetic smile.
“Let’s get back to that book,” Travis choked out.
“There’s something your teacher wanted you to know, so there must be more."
They gulped their coffee and made their way to the loft and sat down. Jennie opened the book to where she placed the slip of paper to mark her place. She cleared her throat and began to read aloud again.
“Day 8 —
Today we depart. We will no longer find safety in these flat plains. The thick forests and hills to the north will give us the protection we seek.
Everyone is carrying with them blankets and large quantities of food and water. Following my instruction, every man, woman, and child was also given some sort of weapon or sharp tool to defend themselves. I can’t bear to lose any more of my friends. With Jeremy’s death, there are only thirty-six of us left in the party.
Day 10 —
Our path so far has been easy, and we have not encountered any lemerons. The people are optimistic about finding a new home. They have begun talking about what it would be like to live in safety. I have to admit the thought of not having to constantly look over your shoulder wondering if you will be attacked is appealing. I must remain realistic though; these dreams may not ever come to pass.
Day 14 —
Today we were fortunate to find an abandoned wagon and horses. Perhaps things truly are looking up. We even found crates of food. Everyone was happy to be able to set his or her things on the wagon and travel burden free. We have decided we will all take turns riding in the wagon in groups of ten. This will help us keep up our strength and our spirits.
Day 18 —
It has been ten days since we left the cornfield and things are going well so far. The days are getting colder, but we are prepared with our blankets and warm clothing. We are covering a good amount of ground, but we are still in the flatlands. I long to see the hills which await us to the north. The optimism of the party remains high.
Day 37 —
The days are dragging along with our feet. The blisters from our shoes have now turned into hardened calluses. It has begun to snow, and I cannot feel my fingers in the cold.
Day 41 —
Our good fortune ran out. We were attacked in the early hours of the morning when it was still dark. The lookout fell asleep and never saw the lemerons approaching. It was a violent struggle. The party fought bravely, but we lost thirteen of our friends. Only twenty-three of us survived.
At least the lemerons do not care for animals, and we still have our horses.
Day 72 —
Our horses have grown weak, and we lost two more of our members to sickness. I am comforted they did not perish at the hands of the lemerons.
Day 83 —
We have run out of food. There is little to scavenge as the winter is upon us and the vegetation is dead. The outlook, is bleak and the party has little enthusiasm.
Day 86 —
We had to release the horses today. They are too weak and can no longer pull the wagon. They will be better off on their own finding grass buried beneath the snow to eat.
Some of our party members have been able to hunt for wild game. The meat tastes delicious after surviving on dried fruits and spoiled corn for so long. Things might be looking up for us now that our stomachs are full.
Day 103 —
We stumbled upon a small encampment of about fifty people in the gentle hills. There are not many trees around, but it is refreshing to see other people. They have welcomed us, and invited us to stay with them. There are proper cabins and fires here. It is so warm and inviting.
Day 157 —
We have been here about a month and a half, and we have all integrated nicely together. Their leader, Eric, and I have decided we should act as one community. We are stronger this way, and have a greater chance of survival. Our people get along very well with theirs, and some have even formed bonds.
Even Eric and I have grown close. I see in him the better part of myself, and I feel I can open up to him. I wonder what the future holds for us. Look at me, I sound like a schoolgirl. This is what humanity should be about: building friendships and finding love.
Day 163 —
We have been attacked again, only this time not by lemerons. Cruel people rode through our small settlement on horses and started attacking us. They stole food, clothing, and supplies. The attack was unexpected. and several of our people were killed.
I cannot believe the lack of humanity these people have. The state of the world we live in now does not mean we can act violently towards each other. We should all be coming together to fight our common foe, the lemerons.
Day 167 —
I am losing my faith in humanity. These aggressive people have attacked us again and taken more of our supplies. It is no longer safe here. Eric and I have communicated to our people that we will leave at dawn. We will carry on with my party’s original plan and continue to travel north towards the safety of the forest.”
Belle interrupted Jennie’s reading. “Why would the people attack each other? Why wouldn’t they want to help one another out? As she said in the book, her and Eric’s people were stronger when they worked together.”
Ethan responded, “The group of people who attacked them wanted their supplies.” He paused then added, “Cruelty always comes to the surface when people are only interested in their own survival.”
Jennie didn’t say anything nor did she begin reading again. Belle saw she looked thoughtful; she seemed to be taking in Ethan’s words. Something in Ethan’s tone made Belle think he knew quite a bit about this concept of cruelty towards other people. Was he on the giving or receiving end of this cruelty?
27
Belle changed the topic back to the contents of the book, “Maybe we will find out more about this group of cruel people in the next entries.”
Jennie nodded and began reading again.
“Day 170 —
The attackers have not ceased. We abandoning the encampment and moving north. These people are barbaric and will cause our downfall if we do not protect ourselves. We cannot outrun them, so we must overpower them.
Eric disagrees with me. He feels fighting them will not solve anything. He wants to try reasoning with them even after they have already killed more than a dozen of our people. Eric is such a compassionate person, but I wonder if it blinds him at times.
Day 172 —
Eric went out searching for these barbarians to reason with them, and he has not yet returned. We have been in the same temporary camp waiting for him for two days now. We are vulnerable here and must keep moving if we are to remain alive. I fear for Eric. His extended absence has me sick with worry. I do not want to lose him.
Day 173 —
Eric has been returned to us, but he is dead. His feet were tied with rope, looped around his horse’s neck. The barbarians sent the horse back to our camp, dragging Eric’s body behind. They slashed his throat and scrawled a message on a paper pinned to his coat which reads ‘you all will be next’.
My hands are shaking as I write this. No more, this has to stop.”
Jennie stopped reading and spoke, “The paper is stained with small droplets, and some of the ink has run together. She must have been crying.”
“That poor woman, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. Her pain must have been overwhelming,” Belle said. “She finally found some small piece of happiness, and those barbarians destroyed it. How can people kill each other?”
Jennie frowned, “It’s happening here too, cruel people killing others. Mrs. Townsend could attest to that if she were still here.”
Belle thought of Sash and knew Jennie was right. She let Jennie continue reading.
“Day 175 —
The barbarians attacked us again, only this time we were ready for them. We fought back with a passion for survival which seemed to stun them. Many of them were injured and fled, but I killed one, and I was glad to take my revenge for Eric’s murder.
I sank my curved blade deep into the man’s chest. His dark eyes were wide and fixed on mine as he c
oughed up blood. I watched as the life left his eyes and his body went limp.
I took a human life. I am no better than this man. Nothing I do can bring Eric back to me. I truly am a monster.
Day 180 —
I wake from dreams where I see Eric with his throat slashed and then the face of the man I killed. He was a barbarian, but he was still a man. I feel like I am losing myself. I have become hardened and am not the stubborn yet light-hearted woman I once was.
How can I possibly lead my people now? I feel just as barbaric as those people who attacked us and murdered Eric.
Day ? —
I can no longer count the days. I don’t know how long it’s been since Eric was killed, but I know many moons have passed. I wish Eric were still here with me. I will never be whole again, I will never love again, and I will never feel alive again…
So many have died since we originally set out on our journey. I can’t recall exactly when, but we had more lemeron attacks since my last entry. Our group keeps growing with newfound refugees. It then shrinks when some of us are killed by the lemerons. It seems that death is destined to follow me wherever I go.
I am cursed after all, so it makes sense that any good things that come to me cannot last. My people don’t know of my curse, and I dare not write it down. If they find out, they will probably want to kill me. That is what people do when they are afraid – they kill each other. People will kill each other for anything it seems: fear, hunger, survival, cruelty, and even revenge. Must I live this endless life with the guilt of causing so much death and pain?”
Jennie stopped reading abruptly.
“Did she say endless life?” Belle asked. She shook her head as if it could not be possible. But could it be possible? She thought about the photos from the Secret Archives. It was the only thing that would make sense. “Is this Marlene’s journal?”