Last night was quiet. Only the drum boomed, nothing else challenged it. I figure anyone who had been still alive in the area besides Gerald and I were maimed or killed in the counterattack. The radio has gone silent. Gerald was disappointed. He said even if it was repeating the same message that meant someone was behind the speaker. The idea of complete radio silence doesn’t bother me as much for some reason. When the plumbing finally stops, that’ll be the last convenience linked to how things were.
The world becomes less recognizable each morning.
The vines, leaves, and grasses are flooding the streets and houses. On the ivy, small flowers of every color continue to grow. I know nothing about plants. Gerald says it something new. The monsters are using the ivy for something. The overgrown plants appearing with the monsters and drum cannot be discounted. That was the only theory I believed out of Gerald. Despite my affinity for him, most of his ideas were strange, vague, and rooted in some odd paranoia. Typically, he’d trail off in the middle of his sentence and look around at the trees wildly.
Still, any company was good company.
Whatever the case, the only plants I sort of remembered are the bluebells I’d pick when I was kid. My mom would let me wander in the backyard while she read. I’d pick a bundle of them and put them in a small red cup. I’d always leave it on the edge of the patio table hoping to surprise her.
I never asked if it ever did.
I’m taking the day off from raiding houses. Rick probably being dead has taken a lot out of me. I spent the afternoon just sitting outside. I could’ve restrained him, or knocked him out. He would still have wanted to fight them though, to march off into the night with his little rifle held high. I could’ve slipped him a sleeping pill or something. He would still have gone. It’s what the monsters wanted. They are mortal to give us hope, but immortal to kill us. Now he’s dead and the drum still sounds, how important was that?
Tomorrow, I’ll stand in a mirror.
It won’t be here, but someplace else. I want them to see me. I want them to know I’m still alive. I want them to know I won’t wander off into the darkness to meet them. I’m no fool. I’m no fool.
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.