09/10/10 The fall of humanity was kind of a bummer...


My "flee to Canada" plan has gone to shit. I lost contact with the Seattle anarchists I was staying with, not sure if they're alive or dead. First there were the "walkers"-- reanimated corpses who feed on human flesh. Most folk at Jim's think that this is the final stage of the pandemic, but I'm not entirely convinced. I saw that hanged man plain as day, snarling at us in the auto parts store. If this strain is only spread through bites from the infected, how come there wasn't a scratch on him?

Anyway, thanks to society falling around our feet, I'm no longer a wanted person. Seems like the state is coming for us indiscriminately now. First there was the outbreak, then the military purged half of Tacoma with firebombing. Those dumbasses don't understand how many innocents they've slaughtered, while many of the walkers survived (if anything, it seems like there's more). As if by a miracle, we stumbled out of the smoke straight to our bastion: Jim's house. But the things we'd seen and endured by that point were beyond comprehension. I've seen people die, and I've killed before, but no innocents-- until now. May they rest in peace.

I remember when, back in 1999, my mother and her church friends believed that the rapture would happen with the turn of the century. I was a scrappy little queer kid, Mama was concerned for my "unholy" tendencies. She wailed and prayed for my 10-year-old soul every night until new year's, telling me that unless I served the Lord better, I wouldn't see her in Heaven. Now, who could have guessed that the rapture would find me over a decade later, in a Starbucks thousands of miles away? And that the Lord wasn't welcoming home his children, but bringing Hell to Earth instead? That's fucking comedy.

The apocalypse isn't all bad: the companions I've met along the way are interesting folks. Vallerie, the firefighter, seems like she was heaven-sent to take me down. Whether it's through getting us both eaten, or after she discovers who I am. She's cute... but maybe more brawny than brainy. I don't know what Zack's deal is, but if I worked at Starbucks, I'd probably carry some hidden rage too-- not like I can judge after I blended a walker's head with a fucking bike chain. Tracy is pretty quiet also, but I sense a kindred spirit in her: another wanderer with a bloody past. Doc Marie has my respect for her craftiness in a pinch, and for her willpower. She seems like a good mom. Suggested we stick together for the next few months, as she tries to get in contact with her family and son-- Fine by me. I'm used to travelling solo, but I think the apocalypse is changing us all.


I'm signing off for now. Good luck. Here's to burning down whatever I want, now that the pigs are undead!
S. Smoke