Meal 17:

Another post-apocalyptic journal entry to break up the monotony.

May 13, 2023


Summer approaches. The lurchers are much more active. Hard to predict their movements in the summer. They're erratic and out at all hours of the night. Can't afford to sleep on the ground any more. Must take shelter in abandoned cars and trees.

I saw a dog today. Didn't look like he had turned yet. A rare thing these days. Thought about shooting it. Decided to save the ammo for things that might eat me. Plus Bill always sighted my rifle for me. You would think I could do it myself, but I hate the horrid gun.

Haven't had meat in over two months so that tempted me a little. I couldn't tell you what animal it was I ate last. The dog was pitiful, missing an ear and limping in pain, a dead giveaway that it wasn't feral. Lurching animals or people don't feel pain. If you have the time, one shot is all you need to kill them. Their blood doesn't clot well, so they bleed out pretty quick. But blood attracts them in hordes. Best to just run away. Always best to run away. They don't run of course. Shuffle shuffle, the lurcher shuffle.

Tried eating one of the rations dry. Nearly chocked and my stomach is rolling in knots. I need to find a car to lie down in. One day the lurchers will learn how to open doors and then I'll be screwed. Until then, cars are always safe.

Dead.

That's about all I can say for sure about it.

I'm taking the long road to Kansas City.