road and headed for the gas station about half a mile from home and just over a mile from the Safe Haven. The gas station was in the middle of the evacuated zone, but I hoped someone was still there. I realized I didn’t have a decent road map. If I ever took to the road, I’d definitely need a map. Every gas station sells them. That’s what I was after.
The absolute silence on the road was shocking. Not a living thing in sight. I could be the last person on earth.
When I got to the gas station, I let out a sigh of relief. The lights were on. It looked open.
I pulled up to the pump and went in cautiously. I’m not ashamed to say I was scared shitless. There was no one was in sight—no customers, no employees. Where was the fucking manager? The cash register was open. I could’ve reached in and made off with all the cash. I grabbed a couple of road maps and all the candy bars I could stuff in my pockets. I also grabbed some two-week-old magazines. Their covers reported things that now seem completely surreal. Everything seems so absurd in this chaos! As I left the money on the counter, I thought I heard a noise. My blood froze in my veins. Someone—or something—was out there. Fuck.
Trembling, I grabbed some snow chains hanging on a display. They weren’t much of a weapon, but at least I had something sturdy in my hands. I spotted a man about a hundred feet from the station. He was too far away, and it was too dark to see him clearly, but he seemed to be staggering. I wasn’t going to hang around to find out. I jumped in the car and headed for home. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the guy stumbling along, trying to follow my car. Fuck that. I didn’t want to know anything more about him.
A few minutes later, I was back home with the door secured again. My legs are still shaking. I was gone for less than twenty minutes and only went about half a mile, but I feel like I’m back from a tour in Vietnam. This is really fucked up. I thought I’d feel like the hero of an action movie. Truth is, I feel like prey who doesn’t know where the hunters are.
I turned on the TV. There are only two channels left, Channel 3 and the public station, Televisión Española, which isdisplaying the royal coat of arms and playing military marches. Very reassuring. There’s static on all the other channels. CNN is all that’s left on the satellite; it’s broadcasting images recorded a few days ago. News scrolls across the bottom of the screen: Atlanta has fallen. Denver. Utah. Baltimore. Cedar Creek, Texas. And on and on...damn, the list is endless. “Do not go to the Safe Zones. Seek safety elsewhere,” the message says. Is that what will happen here, too? Millions of “infected people” attacking millions of refugees in Safe Havens?
The Internet is almost nonexistent. Most servers are down. The only search engine still operating is the Spanish affiliate of Alexa. How the hell are they keeping it up and running? Backup batteries, I guess. They can’t last much longer, just a few days or hours. People have left messages on my blog. I don’t know how they found it, but their stories terrify me. They say it’s one of the few sites still operating. My Internet provider is a cable company based in La Coruña. How long before it goes to hell? How long before
everything
goes to hell? They’re coming—it’s just a matter of hours.
ENTRY 31
January 24, 8:56 p.m.
----
Today the power went out. A few minutes before six, the lights flickered and then went out. At first I just sat dumbfounded in the kitchen, in the dark. I’ve been spending most of my time there, listening to military broadcasts and watching the last two TV channels. After a while my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I sprang into action. I grabbed a flashlight and went down to the basement to connect the storage batteries. Those black 16-kilowatt beasts lay on the basement floor in two lines oftwelve. I was just about to throw the switch on the control
The absolute silence on the road was shocking. Not a living thing in sight. I could be the last person on earth.
When I got to the gas station, I let out a sigh of relief. The lights were on. It looked open.
I pulled up to the pump and went in cautiously. I’m not ashamed to say I was scared shitless. There was no one was in sight—no customers, no employees. Where was the fucking manager? The cash register was open. I could’ve reached in and made off with all the cash. I grabbed a couple of road maps and all the candy bars I could stuff in my pockets. I also grabbed some two-week-old magazines. Their covers reported things that now seem completely surreal. Everything seems so absurd in this chaos! As I left the money on the counter, I thought I heard a noise. My blood froze in my veins. Someone—or something—was out there. Fuck.
Trembling, I grabbed some snow chains hanging on a display. They weren’t much of a weapon, but at least I had something sturdy in my hands. I spotted a man about a hundred feet from the station. He was too far away, and it was too dark to see him clearly, but he seemed to be staggering. I wasn’t going to hang around to find out. I jumped in the car and headed for home. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the guy stumbling along, trying to follow my car. Fuck that. I didn’t want to know anything more about him.
A few minutes later, I was back home with the door secured again. My legs are still shaking. I was gone for less than twenty minutes and only went about half a mile, but I feel like I’m back from a tour in Vietnam. This is really fucked up. I thought I’d feel like the hero of an action movie. Truth is, I feel like prey who doesn’t know where the hunters are.
I turned on the TV. There are only two channels left, Channel 3 and the public station, Televisión Española, which isdisplaying the royal coat of arms and playing military marches. Very reassuring. There’s static on all the other channels. CNN is all that’s left on the satellite; it’s broadcasting images recorded a few days ago. News scrolls across the bottom of the screen: Atlanta has fallen. Denver. Utah. Baltimore. Cedar Creek, Texas. And on and on...damn, the list is endless. “Do not go to the Safe Zones. Seek safety elsewhere,” the message says. Is that what will happen here, too? Millions of “infected people” attacking millions of refugees in Safe Havens?
The Internet is almost nonexistent. Most servers are down. The only search engine still operating is the Spanish affiliate of Alexa. How the hell are they keeping it up and running? Backup batteries, I guess. They can’t last much longer, just a few days or hours. People have left messages on my blog. I don’t know how they found it, but their stories terrify me. They say it’s one of the few sites still operating. My Internet provider is a cable company based in La Coruña. How long before it goes to hell? How long before
everything
goes to hell? They’re coming—it’s just a matter of hours.
ENTRY 31
January 24, 8:56 p.m.
----
Today the power went out. A few minutes before six, the lights flickered and then went out. At first I just sat dumbfounded in the kitchen, in the dark. I’ve been spending most of my time there, listening to military broadcasts and watching the last two TV channels. After a while my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I sprang into action. I grabbed a flashlight and went down to the basement to connect the storage batteries. Those black 16-kilowatt beasts lay on the basement floor in two lines oftwelve. I was just about to throw the switch on the control
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