Timelines Collide

Chapter 22: The Journal

I don't sleep. Or as Cliff once liked to put it, I refuse to sleep. Two things happen when I do so. Either I see her blossoming face within a cornfield, or I see her face with black wrinkled veins running up trying to cover her face. If I were lucky, I would have only one. No matter what the case they always end the same. Screaming, lights, blood, then drowning in my sweat-filled bed sheets.

I can already start feeling the sweat forming around my hands. The only other person that I can hear faintly up is someone punching a punching bag repeatedly. I don't need to know much about this family to know it must be Lavender. She's the only one here with a possible drive to do so. I bet she's imagining me as that bag while going on it like bullets firing from a gun.

Though I do wish she was a bit louder, so then maybe my mind can be annoyed by her to be distracted. Sadly, my mind starts canceling everything by pushing my worries to the forefront. It's official, I can't sleep. Can't blame me for not wanting to drown again within my head.

My mind might not want my eyes to close, but the rest of my body begs for it. The only thing good about waking up and starting this whole cycle over again is that when they open back up, it means another chance.

Another chance to make her dream come true, and another chance to make sure my Lana and many children like her can grow up in peace. Then it all pauses. If anyone's words can soothe my mind's nail-biting fear, it would be my Lincoln.

I finally pull his journal out of my jacket taking the time to feel and admire its glossy texture. I sigh once my fingers touch his letter. Opening it, I still can't believe this was something he would do.

Flipping rapidly shows pages of entries, notes of objects, and diagrams of discoveries I assume he made upon his journey. Lincoln wasn't kidding, this was his diary. I flip back to the beginning sections, figuring I would need to start near where his journey began.

May 1, 2038

This day would mark the 7th day of our campaign to drive those ghouls back from once they came. Each territory regained is progress being made. Yet unlike my three brothers in arms who fully believe in that notion, I still feel the same as if it all started yesterday. Thinking about it now, I never seem to forget that first day of The Great Terror.

It was hot, muddy, and chaotic. Nothing my father taught me prepared me for such an event. Of course, that's pretty much the way it was for all of us, wasn't it? All those years of reading books or seeing movies can't prepare your mind for all the blood and screaming, does it?

Frankly, I'm amazed that I've made it through the first day, never mind the last two months. Because incredibly, I and now my brothers Eddy, Miyamoto, and Eliberatory have emerged battle harden. Prepared to fight against whatever The Great Terror has in store for us next.

Lincoln even from the grave can still send shivers down my spine. I don't remember much of the first days of The Great Terror. Come to think of it, most of my past before then is a blur. Still reading the passage again, my head has the scene drawn upon the page in the most holding of details. I let it go even more vividly continuing further down the pages.

June 2, 2038

In the waning months of The Great Terror, most of the ground has been reclaimed from the clutches of the ghouls. That's when the idea of reformation for our democracy among the four sections of the valley started gaining fruit among the people.

However, Eliberatory insists that he takes full control of the rest of the operation, using the robot army of his likeness that has been vital to our success thus far to do so. No one opposed it. As his army seems to grow bigger and bigger each day, I'm left puzzled and warry. Even when they first showed those cold red eyes to us a few weeks ago. I couldn't get them out from the pores of my afterthought.