The counterattack is coming in two days. People have started walking through the neighborhood to assist. They’re moving down Washington Ave, just beyond Broadway where I’m hiding. There are hordes of them; men, women, and children. The survivors fluctuate from dirty to clean, from well-dressed to ragged. Some carried weapons, others pushed wheelbarrows, and others rode on bikes. I was happy to see them for one specific reason.
I knew one of them.
My good friend Rick Craig was passing through with the droves. He had survived the drum. He had survived the weeks of hiding. He knocked on my door frame casually and asked if anyone was home. Snowy and I came running out full speed.
It felt so good to see the big loser, I can’t even express it.
Rick had been a good friend of mine since high school. He had majored in engineering at St. Cloud State while I went to Anoka Ramsey. We still kept in touch though. He had just been over at my house a week before the drum had begun. He said he was starving. I brought him down to the basement to give him some food.
I didn’t want people to see that I had supplies. There were lots of sweaty guns and hungry eyes walking by my house. I hope Gerald was safe.
Rick looked pretty decent for the entire calamity that’d been occurring. Like me, he’d lost a bunch of weight. Before the drum he was sporting a beer-belly and was pale as printer paper. Both physical conditions were due to his obsessive video game habits. Now he was tan, thin, and weathered, just like me.
Rick said that he looked for his parents and brothers. He was the oldest in his family. They’d been killed though. He found the house shredded and full of caked blood. He said he hid inside, unable to move or think. Other survivors told him about moving out of the cities. He couldn’t leave his parent’s house. Eventually, he got a radio working and heard about the counterattack. He said the army had plenty of guns but not enough hands.
I’ll wait a day before telling him how foolish it is to join the counterattack.
Gerald came by later in the day and I invited him downstairs. We ate more canned goods, drank a little from a bottle of vodka I had left, and even played some cards.
It was a good evening.
Here is where you can find the other days published thus far from my apocalyptic story the Greenland Diaries. They introduce you to the series. You can learn more about the Greenland Diaries and its many books: here. Thank you for reading.