April 4, 2053
Damn Walter! He may have his age and his belly, but he's one hell of a war machine when it comes to gathering wood. He didn't slow down for a second. I, on the other hand, feel like my arms are on fire, as if I had been lifting boulders all day. Using the chainsaw wasn't easy at all: it's damn heavy and shakes like a demon possessed. After an hour of work, my muscles gave out. Thankfully, I don't have anything else to do today. Walter insists that I rest so I'll be ready for the night watch tonight.
Tonight, we'll set up at the entrance of the fence, on a kind of wooden and metal watchtower Walter built. It's a solid piece of work, I must admit, but not too reassuring. Still, it provides some visibility over what surrounds us outside the fence.
Today, I decided to spend some time with Emy. I've been meaning to talk to her for a few days, try to understand how she's dealing with Lucky's death, and see if I can help her in any way.
For the first time in a long time, I feel this safe. The sun is high and warm today, and I took the opportunity to write while sitting on one of the benches in the little garden out here. Emy is with me, drawing on the ground with some colored chalks that Asia gave her. Asia seems to be a very kind girl.
Emy seems to be handling the whole situation with the dog well, though it's clear she's trying hard to smile. That little girl has the courage of a lion. It's thanks to that courage that she's still alive. I wonder how she managed to survive at the beginning of all this... Are her parents still alive? Where was she all this time before I found her? I realize there are quite a few things I don't know about her, despite the time we've spent together. Maybe I should stay closer to her and learn more about her.
It's evening now; we've just finished dinner, and I'm getting ready for the night watch. Emy, strangely, started whining, saying she didn't want to stay in the room alone because she wouldn't sleep out of fear. Asia, with her usual kindness, offered to keep her company until she fell asleep. I'm relieved to know I can count on someone, at least for tonight.
This afternoon, while playing with Emy and her chalks, I noticed something strange. I was looking at the structure, and suddenly, it seemed like I saw the figure of a person lurking behind one of the closed bedroom windows on the first floor. It was just a moment, a fleeting shadow... then it was gone. I'm not sure, but my heart jumped into my throat. I hope I'm not going schizophrenic.
Walter is waiting for me for the watch. I'd better go. God, if you're still somewhere in this crazy world, please let everything go smoothly tonight. I have no desire to see those rotten, putrid faces again.
April 5, 2053
Now I have confirmation: Walter is a damn madman!
Last night, before setting up for the watch, he took me to the shed out back to get ready. I couldn't believe my eyes: three metal cabinets full of weapons and ammunition of all kinds. There was everything, even a rocket launcher! I get that we're in the middle of an apocalypse, but we're talking about a damn rocket launcher!
When he saw the uncertainty on my face as I tried to choose a weapon, Walter started laughing. Then he pulled out a gun from behind his belt, took a silencer from a drawer next to the cabinets, and mounted it. Then, handing me the gun, he said:
"Here, it's your gun. I saw it when I passed by your room this morning, and I couldn't help but notice how dirty and worn it was, so I took the liberty of fixing it up for you. I hope you don't mind."
There was a half-smile in his words, as if he felt accomplished in making this kind gesture. I must say it was really helpful since I don't know much about guns, and my attempt to fix it hadn't brought great results. I thanked him, and we climbed up onto the scaffolding to start the watch.
We talked about a lot of things during those hours. He told me he came from a small town far to the east, the name of which I absolutely can't remember. He ran a small gun shop before everything started five years ago. Now it makes sense why he has all those weapons and why he's so good at cleaning them.
Walter also told me he had a wife and a son... His son was only seven years old. He was seriously ill, a disease with no cure that kept him bedridden for most of his short life.
His wife is not Lilly, as I had thought; her name was Anna. She took her own life.
He found her hanging from the bedroom chandelier one morning in May 2049, with a bullet hole in her temple, while their son, tied to the bed, thrashed around with foam at the mouth, writhing like an octopus in an attempt to break free and devour his mother's hanging flesh. Walter had to end his life with his own hands.
After that story, we remained silent the entire time. As I hoped, nothing happened. I was only startled by some noises from a few small animals passing outside, looking for something to eat. I must say it was a very sad night. Now I'm in the room with Emy, and I've just sent Asia off; I found them sleeping soundly. Asia was sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard, holding the curled-up little girl, Emy's head resting on her legs. I am very grateful to her for the help she gave me tonight.
The fatigue is catching up with me. I think I'll take a nice long sleep until lunchtime.
After lunch, Emy wanted to talk to me. She told me she heard the voice of a crying child coming from somewhere in the structure. I firmly believe that her twelve-years-old imagination is very vivid. I pretended to believe her, but ghosts are the last thing I want to deal with in these times. I told her not to pay attention to it, that everything would be fine... I hope so...