I’m so fucking tired today I can barely think straight. My slow recovery from the flu has left me a hot mess right now. At least I’m alive. I keep telling myself that; “at least I’m alive.” I don’t know if that’s really something to feel lucky about, but it’s something at least, and sometimes that’s all you need.
Let me backtrack a little bit. I’ve spent the last few days recovering from a cold, sweating in bed and sleeping almost the entire time. It started off with cold chills shortly before I went to bed after writing my last entry. It escalated into full blown fever dreams and sweaty sheets. I’m glad I had some basic over-the-counter cold and cough medicine or it might have gotten really ugly. That’s the kind of thing I never thought about before.
I’m young and relatively healthy. Other than a yearly checkup, I haven’t had any medical issues to speak of since I was really little. If I got sick, I went to my doctor and got a prescription and ran out to the drug store to get it filled. Pop a few pills and I’m better in a day or two. That convenience is gone. Hell, “convenience” isn’t the right word. Something as simple and inconvenient as the flu can kill, and there’s a lot worse out there than that. Not having any access to expert medical attention has to be something I keep in the back of my head. I can’t take unnecessary chances now. There’s no support system out there to keep me alive. I’m all I’ve got, and I can’t forget it.
Note To Self – look for medicine and other important supplies ASAP. I don’t know if the Hospital just a few blocks away is the best place. There are probably a lot of infected still there since so many were transported after being attacked. I’m sure the place is full of them just waiting for visiting hours to start. I’ll have to look elsewhere when I can.
Once I finally got out of bed and was on my way to recovery I was able to eat some dry cereal. The water from the sink was still flowing, so I drank my fill and felt some strength work its way back into me. I took a few moments to fill the tub with water simply because I have no way of knowing if the water will stop working. Everything else is apparently broken as the power comes on and off less and less often. Having a few gallons of water may be useful, even if it’s coming out of my grungy tub.
Next, I cleaned up after Marcus who had repeatedly used the newspaper I’d put down on the few tiles of kitchen floor available in my tiny studio apartment while I shivered in bed with the flu. I thanked my lucky stars that he’s not a constant barker. He lets out some low growls when there are Z’s close by, or at least he did the one time a few of them shuffled past my window. It wasn’t loud enough to draw attention, but it’s comforting to know that he can somehow sense when they are near. Having a loud dog right now would not be a good thing, but knowing when there are Z’s around is worth the risk.
I haven’t heard any other noise in the apartment building since coming out of my fevered stupor. My few remaining neighbors had stopped by just over a week ago to talk about trying to make it off of Long Island. Jerry, the aging hippy from 2C that always smelled of cat piss and marijuana, had suggested we group up and get some large SUV’s and supplies together. He wanted to make a run for it, to see if the bridges were still open. He kept talking about safety and strength in numbers. He talked about how you could kill a zombie by cracking open its skull or shooting it in the head. He kept telling us that he’d seen it online before the Internet connection went down, and he was so insanely sure of himself that some of the others began to nod in support.
I’m a fairly unassuming guy who realizes that most people never deviate far from their core personality. I accept most people as they are, so it should come as no surprise that I wasn’t going to listen to a tye-dyed wearing social misfit like Jerry just because he saw some shit on YouTube. This guy lives his life in a purple haze, which doesn’t make him very reliable in my honest opinion. I guess I’m just saying that I wouldn’t turn to him if I was looking for a fount of wisdom.
Then there’s the fact that I’d seen what happened when a single infected got into a group of people confined in a small space. The disease spread so quickly that they had the immediate advantage. A single bite would start the process, and anyone that didn’t run was as good as dead. Those odds didn’t seem stacked in our favor with this group. We had been helping each other, but we had the safety of our individual apartments. Getting everyone into a few cars seemed like a bad idea to me.
Jerry gained support from everyone, but I respectfully declined and locked my door. My neighbors had always been friendly and easy enough to get along with, but the current situation outside made me nervous that some might start looking for their supplies sooner rather than later. I didn’t want to get robbed of the few non-perishable food items I had. Even in my fever dreams I can remember getting up to check those locks a few times.
Speaking of my meager food stores, I decided that it was time to stop reminiscing about Jerry, and time to start taking stock of my situation. I had maintained a sense of some protection with my neighbors around me. Even with Jerry running the show, there was greater safety and strength in numbers. We had looked out for each other over the last few weeks and shared what little we had. We kept a watch and it made the horror outside seem distant enough to deal with.
With everyone gone, I was now completely on my own. I had limited remaining supplies, needed to make sure my apartment was secure now that there wouldn’t be a guard at the front door to keep watch, and I really wanted to pull some stuff out of my storage closet. There were a few items mixed in with my camping gear that I’d like to get my hands on sooner rather than later.
I spent about 2 minutes going over the few items left in my cabinets. The stuff in the fridge was useless, having spoiled within the first few days after the power went screwy. I only had a half gallon of milk, some cheese, and a six pack of beer left inside. The milk and cheese went into the trash, but the beer stayed. I can always drink beer warm.
Hey, a man has to have a few vices to stay human.
I have enough food in my kitchen cabinets for maybe another week if I spread things out. That’s not good. I’d have to see what else I could find.
I’m now using the empty fridge as a barricade for my door. The extra weight makes me feel somehow safer.
Note to Self – food is a priority. I need to find stuff that will last for months. Winter is coming and there’s no way I can grow anything in this apartment. Canned goods would be a godsend right now.
After checking on the rather piss poor food situation, I moved my couch and got into my storage closet. I had boxes and boxes of stuff organized and stowed away so that the rest of the small apartment remained clear of clutter.
I pulled out the top few boxes until I found the one labeled “camping,” and dragged the big rubber bin out onto the floor. I quickly opened it and removed some useful items. I had a machete and a survival knife stored in the large internal frame backpack I used for hiking trips. Both blades were well oiled and sharpened before being stored, and having some weapons ready to hand made me breathe just a bit easier.
I strapped the knife onto my hip and leaned the machete against my front door. I returned the boxes to the closet and replaced the couch. The world might be ending, but I’d still keep my home neat and tidy. As I replaced everything I realized that the simple act of organization helped me to maintain a sense of normalcy I desperately needed. I shoved the thought aside and just enjoyed the moment.
Having armed myself, even if only modestly, left me feeling a bit better. I then moved one of the bookcases away from my single window and carefully peeked outside. The building I live in is at the edge of my complex, and it’s backed by a quiet dead-end street. I always liked it for its privacy. I’m only minutes away from the hustle and bustle of Long Island, but my little street seems removed from that world.
The only movement on my side of the building took the form of two gray squirrels hording acorns. I watched them for what must have been 15 minutes. It was odd to see something so natural that I had to soak it in. When I could pull my eyes away from the squirrels, I noticed that there was a lot of smoke in the distance. It reminded me that I hadn’t been hearing any sirens from the fire department just a few streets over. I used to wake up every night and curse the sirens. Now I wonder if anyone is left to sound them again. At least I didn’t see anyone shambling along. There were still quite a few bodies in the street, but none of them were currently moving. I wondered if they were really dead, or were they just waiting for a reason to move.
I returned the bookcase. I’d seen enough and questions like that weren’t going to make me feel better. My windows are a good seven feet off the ground because of the basement level of the apartment, but being in a first floor apartment regardless of its elevation still made me incredibly nervous. I don’t know if those things can climb in here, and I really don’t want to find out, so the first night I pushed furniture in place to cover up the single small window I have. It would be a good idea to fortify the window better than just piling my furniture in front of it. I’d have to see what I could do. Better safe than sorry.
After all this activity I was feeling pretty weak again. I guess I’m not really over my cold and should probably get some more sleep. I decided to write for a bit, but now I’m going to crawl back into bed.
I’ll write more soon.
