March 14, 2053
I can't complain about how things have gone in the past few days. We've managed to secure the shack pretty well by reinforcing the front doors. I also took a look inside the old radio, and as I suspected, there were no batteries in it. Emy seems calm and is recovering; I see her more energetic and carefree, spending her days playing with Lucky. It's nice to see some light in her eyes after everything we've been through.
I've managed to gather a small stockpile of firewood, which should last us a few days for the old wood stove we have here. It's not bad at all for cooking; in fact, we're getting used to this little comfort, and I must say that food tastes entirely different when prepared this way.
I found something interesting behind the shack: there's a water pump that seems to be connected to a well or some similar source. Probably, the former owners of this place used it to get their water supply. However, there's a problem: the pump lever won't move. I need to figure out how to unlock it, and once I do, I'll also have to check the water source to ensure it's not contaminated. We can't afford to risk getting sick.
It's night now, but I can't sleep. Emy is sleeping soundly in the old chair at the reception, and Lucky is curled up next to her. I keep thinking about the dead woman in the attic, the one I found with the child. I think I should move those two bodies from there. It could be helpful to have easy access to the attic in case of danger, and I don't want Emy to ever have to see that horrible scene.
I think I'll take advantage of the fact that she's asleep now. I'll take those poor bodies away and throw them in the pond. It's the only way to feel a bit safer in this place.
March 15, 2053
I managed to unblock the well pump, but unfortunately, no water is coming out. There must be a problem with the pipes going down into the well. Well, I suppose not everything can go smoothly, right? I'll have to keep boiling the lake water and filtering it using a sock filled with charcoal. I saw this trick on TV many years ago, and it seems to work quite well. At least, so far, none of us have gotten sick, although it is a bit unsettling to know we are drinking water from a lake full of decomposing remains.
It's afternoon, and Emy fell asleep after lunch. To pass the time, I went to the back of the shack to flip through the magazines I found in the cabinet. One of them is about hunting, and I found some interesting pages on how to disassemble and clean a gun. Looks like I just found my new hobby for the next few days. I should also do some practice since I've never fired a gun in my life, and it worries me. But there's a problem: gunshots could attract a lot of "unwanted guests." I need to find a safe way to practice without risking getting discovered.
March 16, 2053
This morning, I woke up with one thought stuck in my head: supplies. It's true that we have enough food to survive well for at least twenty days, but then what? What will we do when the supplies run out? I picked up the hunting magazine again and tried to draw some inspiration from the pages to see if I could build a trap.
I worked on it all day, but I think it was worth it. I managed to dig a couple of fairly deep holes near the woods, about a hundred meters from here. Not having a shovel, the holes aren't very big; at best, they might trap a hare or small animals. I covered the holes with leaves and placed some pieces of canned peaches on top to use as bait. Now we just have to cross our fingers and hope something takes the bait.
I feel a bit better knowing I'm doing something to improve our situation.
March 17, 2053
I can't tell if I was woken up this morning by a strange "beep" or if I dreamed of my old alarm clock, the one I used to avoid being late for work. I hate that damned thing. It had such an annoying sound that it almost always woke me up in a bad mood. Oh well, it doesn't matter as long as it's not some eerie screams, explosions, or gunfire.
I really miss coffee. I can't seem to wake up fully; I think I'm taking advantage of this calm far too much, and I'm not sure it's good for me. I've known this hell for four years now, and I know very well what happens when you get too relaxed. I've seen it with my own eyes, unfortunately. My parents paid the price for it.
We had found an abandoned house in the city center (we lived two blocks away from there). Since that house had a large park in front, we thought we could have a wide view around us and enough time to escape in case of danger. Then, one night, my father and I woke up with a start: rapid gunfire, roaring engines, and then them... hundreds and hundreds of furious, hungry zombies running in our direction. Every attempt to avoid them was useless. The only thing my father managed to do was lock me in the basement of that house just in time. Then the agonizing screams of my parents… I still remember them as if they were the summer hit of the year. Crazy, right?
When I finally freed myself from the basement and got out, there was no one left, least of all my parents. All that remained was a vast expanse of blood covering almost the entire floor of the living room.
I think there's still a drop of that liquor I found at the school at the bottom of my backpack. I'm going to drink it, hoping it helps me not think about it.
March 18, 2053
That "beep" again. I can't figure out what it could be. There's nothing technological in this shack, apart from that horrid radio that would be better off in an ancient museum. This is starting to get weird. I need to stay vigilant.
As I feared, the waters aren't safe. While I was gathering some water to boil, two shapes appeared, crawling on the lakebed. Fortunately, I've made it a habit to always carry the fire axe with me. So, before they could emerge from the water, I silenced those two creatures with a well-placed blow to the back of the neck. I have to say, this axe does its job well; I didn't have to struggle much, and the situation was manageable, luckily.
This afternoon, I tried following the magazine's instructions and disassembled the gun to clean it. I have to say, it was in bad shape. Unfortunately, I don't have any gun lubricant, so I just cleaned it as best I could with a rag, trying to leave some of the existing lubricant in place. I need to test it... I hope it works. The fact is, it's a bit more challenging to reassemble. The instructions aren't very clear. I'll give it another try after dinner.
March 19, 2053
This morning, a light mist settled in; visibility is still pretty good, though. I've decided to test the gun. I'll set up some empty cans and, with the boat, move to the other side of the lake. I'll shoot from the boat at the cans that I'll place on the shore; that way, if the noise happens to attract anyone, I can abandon the training and head back here. The shore is far, and the lake is quite large; I doubt they'll be able to follow me.
When I tried to explain my intentions to Emy, she didn't want to hear about staying locked up in here by herself. I guess I'll have to take her with me. Sometimes she's such a burden! Especially when she whines... I'll leave Lucky here. At least he doesn't complain and might even stand guard.
We'll also take some cooked rations with us, just in case it takes longer than expected, so we can have a picnic on the boat.
We got back a few hours ago. It's already dark outside. I have to say, the pistol isn't bad at all. It does its job well, unlike my aim: I managed to hit two cans out of five. Well, it's still something, right? I went through a couple of magazines, so I guess I used around 24 bullets.
On the way back, I was expecting a warm welcome from Lucky. Instead, he stayed curled up in the corner, just staring at us. Maybe he's sulking because we left him behind.
Tomorrow morning, I'll go check the traps I set up. Fingers crossed.
March 20, 2053
Shit! Someone should have warned me that animals can turn into brain-eaters too! I had a close call out there just now. While I was checking the traps I had set up, suddenly a dog... or at least what was left of it... jumped out at me. Luckily, there was a tree with sturdy, low branches near those holes, low enough for me to climb up quickly. If it weren't for that tree, I wouldn't be here writing these lines. I didn't even hear the beast coming: one moment, there was just the eerie silence of the woods, and the next, there it was, charging at me like a bolt of lightning.
It was a nightmare scene. That dog wasn't just a stray; it was half torn apart. Half of its torso was skinned, exposing its ribs for all to see, with something that looked like an organ hanging out. Its muzzle was even worse off: half of it was shredded, with bits of skin dangling, and one eye nearly popping out of its socket. Every step it took was accompanied by a wet, horrifying sound, like a pot of beans boiling over, with blood and saliva dripping with every move. I had to waste five pistol shots to put it down for good! Damn, thank God I made it out of that in one piece.
Notes: The traps had been triggered but were empty. I'll need to dig deeper holes.
Now that I've finally calmed down after that terrible encounter this morning, I have a moment to breathe. Emy asked me what those gunshots were that she heard in the distance. I told her not to worry, to focus on playing with Lucky, and to let me handle these things. I don't want her to realize how many dangers are out here. I'll need to be even more cautious when we go out, even if it's just for a breath of fresh air. The dangers here, compared to the city, are less frequent but much more deadly. And a zombie dog is the last thing I wanted to deal with today.
March 21, 2053
Quite a grim first day of spring: the sky is gray and heavy, threatening to rain at any moment. Looks like we'll be spending the morning holed up in here, away from the outside world which, to be honest, doesn't have anything good to offer anyway. This weather is a perfect reflection of my mood: gloomy and restless.
A little while ago, while Emy was sleeping, I found myself watching her. But my gaze got caught on her ankle, where I noticed something strange. There was an engraving on her anklet, something I hadn't noticed before. I moved closer, making no noise, to get a better look and saw a code etched on the surface of the rim. Better write it down here:
- NG065JT
What the hell does that mean? I tried checking if there was a latch or some mechanism to open it, but nothing. It looks like an aluminum ring forged around her ankle, sealed in such a way that any attempt to remove it would be useless without her noticing. I'll need to start paying more attention to her.
Just as I was about to go to the back to get the axe, that damn "beep" sounded again. But this time, there was no doubt: it came from Emy. She didn't notice; she was still asleep, hugging the dog, completely unaware. This is starting to smell like cyborg business, and I can't afford to be caught off guard. What if she's one of them? No, I don't want to think about that right now; I'll just keep an eye on her.
I thought about how I could set up a perimeter around the shack to keep us safe, but I can't find a solution. There's nothing here that could help me, just rotten wood and scrap metal. Speaking of wood, our supply is running low. As soon as it stops raining, I'll have to go out and get some. Better for Emy to stay inside; after yesterday's episode, I don't want her taking any unnecessary risks.
I'm starting to get used to that kid (if she even is one at this point) so much that sometimes I feel like an older brother. I worry about her more than I'd like to admit. She's a big pain in the ass, always whining a typical twelve-year-old girl. But I have to admit, she's pretty sharp for her age. She knows how to keep her cool in tricky situations, even though fear always keeps her on the edge of panic.
As for Lucky, there's not much to say. He's a big flea bag with a funny, chubby face. A playful goofball, and seeing how much joy he brings to Emy fills me with a warmth I thought I'd lost. He's great company, not just for her but for me too, I'll admit.
Well, time to get to work. The rain has stopped outside, and I need to take advantage of it to gather some wood. As usual, Emy's whining because she wants to come with me. She's been stuck in here for two days, so maybe it's better if she stretches her legs a bit too. I'll bring her and Lucky with me and stay on guard.
March 22, 2053
Did I say writing would help me keep my sanity?
WELL... LUCKY IS... DEAD.
FUCKING DAMN CYBORGS!