Section 1
"I am William Barnes, and this is my guide to the apocalypse. My wife, Anna, and I have been preparing for this for years. And now it's 3 months away, and we are ready. Should you find this journal, use every bit of information. (Huckley, if you are reading this... your mother and I love you, very much, and wish the best for you. I hope your life has been successful up until now, and I will help you continue to survive, should you follow my careful instructions.)
Rule 1: Always have a firearm, water, and fire itself. The Insanities must be at large now, and probably fixing themselves a government of their own, right? They will keep to themselves for the most part, but should you ask for food or water, they will make your life a living burden.
Rule 2: Keep to yourself. The only person you can trust is you, and even then, it's questionable.
Now keep safe, follow my rules, and keep alive."
-WB
"And that was the last my father left with me," I told the group. "He died when I was about 7, and my mother was taken later by the Insanities."
Sarah looked at me straight, tilted her head, puffed out some smoke, coughed, then said, "He sure thought ahead. It didn't say anything about grass, did it, Huckley?"
"No, Sarah, it did not say anything about your little pot." I replied. All my friend cares about is weed, it seems.
Sarah gave me a look and then doused her last joint.
"Your father seemed smart," she said, "if only you got the genes from that."
I smirked, shook my head and laughed.
"A big hit from the girl who smokes seven rolls day."
She smiled, ran her hand through her short, spiky blonde hair, got up and walked back to her tent. I poured my foul tasting water into the fire and left the other campers by the fire, who seemed to dislike my choice of dousing, because the fire, apparently, soon became horribly smelly. They soon dispersed into their tents, and I tried to get some shut eye before dawn.
The next morning, I decided to pack up, 'cuz I had gotten an earful from Sarah about the Insanities setting up shop about 11 miles away. She doesn't quite understand that 11 miles is eleven miles. We had some time. But Sarah was usually right about things like this, so I decided to listen to her.
Sarah helped me get my tent together after we fixed hers back into its bag, and we set off. Hiking is a hassle, but we make do on the Canadian forest paths. After all, there aren't many automobiles offered to regular civilians because the Insanities took hold of many of them. Whoever has a vehicle doesn't use it much, and if they did use it too much, if at all, they wouldn't have it long.
Sarah was right, after all. I could hear the Insanities raiding that camp from three miles away. Gunfire, screaming. It sounded horrid.
My friend lit up, and offered me one, but I passed. My ma said that weed was the devil's path to an easy life. She was into that stuff, old wive's tales and such. I wasn't, but I still listened to what she said.
While we were walking down the path, we heard gunshots - close, - but silenced. Not the Insanities, but someone else. Insanity crew don't use silenced weapons, they're too "brave"...or stupid.
We got on the ground, too quick for them to get another shot on us. I took off my pack and grabbed my cheap 9 mil. Not much can be collected for guns in this era. Like I said, the Insanities like to confiscate.
Sarah looked at me with wide eyes, surprised.
"Huckley! Where'd you get that?" she questioned in a whisper-shout.
"My grandpa. Right before he passed he gave me this," I whispered back.
"Well....whatever keeps us alive."
I looked around, but couldn't spot any life on the ground except for ticks and a battle-ready Sarah. She had her own pistol, but had a freakin' knife duct taped to the handle of the gun, so she can shoot someone and then apparently back-hand shank them.
Once we couldn't hear any more shots, and we were both sure that the strangers were gone, we stood up and continued on our way. Sarah stopped about four times to tie up her boot, but kept her pistol-knife, (I've named it the PK3000) on hand, in case we had any more unaccounted-for guests. We could hear screaming from each camp we passed, but kept our heads down. I felt sorry for the people, but I didn't want to risk Sarah's life too, should I just go all Gung-Ho and try to shoot up the Insanities. A battle I wouldn't win.
We finally took a break near an abandoned town, which, until we found a bird nest, seemed to be lifeless. My friend lit up her Mary Jane friendly stick, and I just sat there, thinking. It took her a while, but Sarah soon began ranting about the "stupid town" nearby.
Sarah, being raised in a small town like this with her mother, hated the sight of it. She didn't have the best of childhoods..
When we were done with our small break, we continued on through the small, once colorful city. As I said, it seemed lifeless. Buildings half torn, bricks, sheetrock, and plywood shattered and spread everywhere. The only thing we saw, other than the birds, that was living, was a small, black cat.
And they say those are bad luck....
Sarah tried chasing after the cat, and it just ran and ran. And Sarah, being the tard she is, followed it, down to a half ripped house. I followed them close, and the cat led Sarah, who led me, down into the cellar of this house.
So we found the cat's owner...
