9.30.21

30 Sept 2021

Brenda asked me today “Why do you call me Brenda? My name is Lilly”.. well that certainly is a good sign, I asked her if she remembers anything else, and she is babbling at about a million miles per hour now as I write.. I nod my head in agreement and amazement as she tells me of how she came to be on the interstate at the moment of the end of life as we knew it.  It seems she’s a dental hygienist (explains the scrubs) on her way home from work when it all became a scene from a bad movie, she says she screamed as the EMP brought everything with a battery to a sudden halt and moments later the enormous flash of light and the cloud and then she lost consciousness.. she remembers nothing after that until just about an hour ago, she doesn’t know me, but is thanking me profusely for saving her.. I’ve not saved her.. I’ve helped her survive the last 7 days that’s all..

——————–

Bravo has stopped and started to growl.. I’ve fashioned a sight of sorts from a broken pair of binoculars I’ve found in the rubble, a bit of duct tape and it’s now attached to my rifle. The irony I guess is that this weapon is over a century old, yet is in impeccable condition. it was given to me by my father who got it from the government over 60 years ago.. he used it for target practice, it’s a beautiful piece of equipment, heavy but deadly accurate, the Springfield 30-.06 is good for 1000 yards if aimed correctly, I can’t believe soldiers used this old sighting mechanism to kill at such a distance…. the image I’m looking at is blurred, but it is a human, walking very carefully through the wreckage peering into each piece of wreckage he, or she for that matter, comes upon.. I’ll wait till they get closer.. I shush Lilly and point their direction, we’ve sheltered in place behind a large group of metal dumpsters behind a blown apart Quik Trip,, Bravo is anxious, want’s to attack I think,, I hold him close to me and tell him to lie down and be quiet.. strangely enough he listens… the enemy? or another survivor?

 

————–

Bullets are flying over our heads as someone has opened fire with an automatic weapon. Kalashnikov I’m sure,  it is the enemy and I’m very very afraid to die, I’ve never shot at anything but doe’s, bucks, rabbits and squirrels.. they’re getting closer and I must make my shots count….

9.29.21

29 Sept, 2021

I only have a few moments to write, we’re being followed and we’ve been under constant watch, the last few days as we have been walking towards Kilo Charlie have been hectic, the night skies were dark and then two days ago we spotted a fire in the distance we had not seen before, there are others, but I’m not sure if they are survivors or jihadists out to take our heads.  Bravo has been on alert constantly, hasn’t barked, but damn sure has been growling, knows there’s something wrong.. Brenda is alert, still doesn’t know who she is, but understands we’re out here to survive whatever the devil throws at us.. screams now, someone is out there…

——————–

I’m writing this by moonlight and it’s very hard to see, the distant lights are several now, I can count at least 5 separate fires on the horizon, I can only guess the distance at about 4 or maybe 5 miles, its so very different without the lights of the city glowing and the night sky is amazing when you stop and notice it.. the stars are incredible.. screams are becoming more in number.. I’ve not had time to even think, I can’t remember when I’ve slept, it’s becoming harder to concentrate, I’ve developed a rash on my forearms that gets worse by the hour, the bomb dropped may have been a chemical nuke? Fuck this hurts, it’s like a bad sunburn, but it keeps spreading up my arms,  I don’t want to die this way.. it certainly wouldn’t be honorable and it damn sure will be painful if I don’t find some atropine somewhere soon. I have one piece of paper left to write on and then I’ll have to scrounge through the wreckage on the highway in hopes that I will be able to continue to tell this story. Someone will have to know what we did to try and stop them…. Bravo has alerted.. must stop..

—————–

 

I am not a morning person, never was, back when I was kid of sorts, I worked in radio and did mornings when the regulars were sick or on vacation, I sucked at it, and I hated it at times , but I at least got to be home by noon.. the sun is just starting to peak over the trees, soon it will be up and we’ll be able to see through the chemifog, it’s an everyday thing now.. no matter what, there is always fog, it burns my eyes and throat.. must keep moving towards Kilo Charlie.. we’re being watched, but I cannot find them.. Bravo now lags behind us,, always watchful, always on alert.. must find water soon, radio static is more erratic now, I hear breaks in the white noise, someone is trying to communicate, I have thought it was Morse code at first, but its not patterned correctly… it’s like someone popping the mic on for a few secs then off again.. we’re getting closer ..

9.12.21

12 Sept 2021 14:37

The gray sky is once again dropping gray snow on us as we trudge down the highway, we didn’t sleep well.. my new friends especially the furry one who snores kept me awake most of the night.. I still don’t know my traveling companions name, neither does she.. we didn’t find anything around the wreckage with a name. She looks like a Brenda to me.  Why? I have no clue.. she just looks like a Brenda would look, so that’s what I’ll call her..

We’ve made our way about 5 miles through what looks like a junk yard, it’s been almost 48 hours since the EMP and then the nukes that rained down on us, I counted at least 3 mushrooms in the distance, probably about 50 miles apart, but close enough that it pretty much obliterated everyone in that sphere of destruction.

Bravo smells something other than death as his nose and ears perk every so often, I don’t know what he smells or sees, I cant make things out so well in the dark, and it’s dark, like a really bad thunderstorm, only you can see the sun peak through every now and then.. I’ve bandaged Brenda up as best I can until we get closer to a town or village or even a farm house that I can get some better medical supplies from,, shoulda been a prepper.. I need to stop and rest, can’t find any water worth drinking, all the vehicles we’ve come upon are twisted bits of melted metal, anything that was inside is a smoldering goo.. getting closer to Kilo Charlie, there are more and more unfortunate souls littering the ditches. I can’t imagine what went through their minds, this isn’t a tornado, you were not going to survive laying in a ditch.. very strange… reminds me of when I was watching what unfolded 20 years ago on tv when the news showed people jumping from the wtc .. a tragic end… rest and then we try to find food

Chapter 1- The snow is falling….

nuclear-winter

September 11, 2021 8:57am

The cackle of the white noise coming out of my little transistor radio brought me back to the days as a boy when I would listen to Top 40 Radio and the Orioles games,  today it is giving me a sinking feeling that perhaps no one survived.  I can see through the foggy mist  as I make my way through the debris filled path that used to be a highway, the ground littered with rapidly decaying body parts, and articles of the human existence that fill my eyes with tears, and my heart with doubt.

There is snow falling, but it’s not really snow is it?, I mean, I guess it could be, I’ve never been through a nuclear winter before, it will probably kill me eventually, but for now its quiet cascade of grey white flakes are covering the ground quickly covering my tracks. I will write as much as I can on whatever I can find to write on as I make my way back to the city. I am confident that most of my family is gone, if they survived then God is on our side, if not, they are indeed in a better place.

I can’t remember why I agreed to let my sons and their mother leave me behind and head to Ireland , I can only hope they are alive. I have gone over my supplies,  I never was a doomsday prepper, sure wish I would have been.

I have my shotgun and 12 rounds, my 06′ and 40 rounds, two knives, a solar powered radio, a few bits of jerky and some meds I removed from a pharmacy blown to bits by the aftershock. I have yet to see another alive human, a dog has been following me for a day now, he doesn’t get close, just follows about 30 yards behind me, stops when I do and then continues as I make my way down the road. the smell of death surrounds me, it’s a bitter stench, one that I will never be rid of.

How the fuck did this even happen? Why didn’t we see this coming in ’14, fucking Mamalukes in the government were blind, or ignorant I guess, doesn’t matter now does it.  Wait.. movement in the wreckage ahead of me, I can’t be too careful.

—————

I have a new friend, well actually two new friends, one with fur. I don’t think she knows her name, very disoriented, about 30, I’m sure she is a nurse or perhaps an EMT, still wearing scrubs but is very hurt, I don’t know how long I can help her, if she’s been exposed to radiation for very long or not, it doesn’t matter because we both are now, it’s just a matter of time I suppose, her arms are badly burned, she doesn’t know how, let alone who she is or where she was going. She was very glad to see me though, not half as glad as I was to see her. Another survivor, I hope we find more. I shall call the dog Bravo, whether or not he comes to me when I call him, doesn’t matter, we eat good tonight, I found a bread truck with its load exposed, bread, cupcakes and pies, mostly cherry, where the hell is the apple.

 

The Next Chapter

timthumb

I started thinking about writing and how to go about writing a book or a novel, or even a short story that you would A) Read, B)comment on or C) make funny comments to your friends about on social media about how lame it was.. Ok maybe I’m being to hard on myself, I consider myself an articulate person, however I don’t always speak with the same clarity and precision as I write. I mean, I don’t use words in everyday conversation that you would see in something I put in this blog, or in a letter, and definitely not in a tweet.

So let’s think about this for a sec, how can I write a first person piece of fiction that will sound believable to a point and yet still be intriguing enough for you to turn the page, scroll or click through it?..

Do I write it like I speak?, do I follow the rules of writing? or do I just let my thoughts and ideas leak out in this format and try to tell a story that compels thought, reflection, faith ( or lack there of) adventure, and countless other adjectives that will decide the chapters of this story?

I have a vivid imagination and love american history, space exploration, military history,  and science fiction.. I don’t know how to write an outline, a story block or develop a leashing agent to guide you to the next page..

But… I’m gonna give it a go,,, btw,, I’m at my twitter follower limit, so if you wouldn’t mind   @slarson

btw the working title is “Area Kilo Charlie” and I’ll leave it at that

 

picture credits:

  • ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
  • COPYRIGHT CHRISTOPHE DESSAIGNE© 2014

The Pain is still real…

Am American flag flies near the base of the destroyed World Trade Center in New York, September 11, ..

Tomorrow marks the 13th anniversary of the 9/11 attack on New York City, I remember where I was, what I was doing, what I was feeling, how mad I became and wanting to hurt those who dared commit the atrocity that has become the most mournful day in our generation.  I look back with disgust at the “reasoning” for the attacks that took the lives of over 3000 people in New York, a field in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon.  The emotions still run deep in me, I still mourn the brave firefighters, emt, police and others that gave their lives trying to save them.

FAST FORWARD 13 YEARS.. NOW…..

I deplore the hatred that is emitting from the middle east on our country, on Israel, on the Christian peoples that are being tormented, executed, driven from their lands on the fundamentals of a “Peace Loving Religion”.  I am scared to death for my family, my friends that live in places in our country that will be susceptible to attack.  I don’t believe there is a safe place in our country, I believe that we may have shown our cards and now the world is wondering if the greatest nation on the planet can survive from within, we have so many domestic issues plaguing our sovereignty that is difficult to discern one from another.

I am deeply troubled at the ineptitude of the leadership in this country and I can only hope that tomorrow will be “just another day”.  I can’t imagine the lives of our children not being safe, I can’t imagine the strife that the children of the countries of the middle east, afghanistan, iraq, and so on and on, what they must  go through daily just to survive.  I am praying that we come to a peaceful resolution, I pray that our men and women in our military units in all parts of the world are safe tomorrow, I can’t imagine a conflict like that on our shores.

I pray because I believe God has a plan for us all, a peaceful plan

The Gift

In the break/lunch room today sharing stories of our children and the new school year approaching when the topic came up on conception. How this happened, I don’t know, may have been the over the color of the guacamole that prompted this discussion, but that is an entirely different blog post.. I digress, their stories were full of the usual witticisms about weight gain/loss, hormones and the lack there of,,oh did I mention I am the only male in this conversation, my co-workers are the real heroes who bore the brunt of punishment and pain only associated to me by a kick in the groin by a 4 year old playing Wrestle Mania with you in the yard,,, but I thought their stories paled in comparison to the story of how my son “C” was given to us by God..

I recall it was a Tuesday, a day like any other (where have I heard this before),, anyway, I’m scheduled to have a Vasectomy on Wednesday 9am and I’m a little nervous about it.. My cell phone rings and the caller id shows it to be my beautiful bride Kiki, cheerfully I answer her call, “Hi baby, whatcha doin?”.. to which I receive, “Oh nothin, but we have a problem”.. I’m thinking,, well crap the water heater is broke, or the AC is on the blink.. “No baby, we have a much bigger problem than that, I”m pregnant”.. what seems like an eternity of silence on my end as I quickly run the scenario’s through my head… “She’s kidding, It’s a late April Fools joke, something is amiss here”.. She calmly says, “Honey, are you there”,, and I blurt out.. “Ha You’re kidding me right?”…….

No, it was not a joke, we really were pregnant with our second son, a true gift from God, as our first son took 10 years to conceive through prayer, and a little help from a Reproductive Doctor.. And yes, I did get the Vasectomy the next day as scheduled.. I told him this story and he just laughed.. when I shared this with my friends at work, they all just stared blankly at me for a moment, then proceeded to go on about their tales of poop, rashes, milk, hemorrhoids and other not very pleasant things concerning hair removal.