Dead End Chronicles (Book 1): Dead End Journal Read online

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  The year was forty-two, some day in June, and it was hot as hell. When the sun was out, you could literally fry an egg on the pavement. Sunburns could be lethal. Thankfully, that day, the sky was filled with puffy clouds and only the occasional ray of sunlight passed us over.

  I was thirteen years old. After a year of arduous training, I had already become a pretty decent hunter. I had even crafted my first shoot-worthy bow. It was at the ready, with an arrow drawn, as we walked down the side of the road. Whenever we wandered out into the opened like that, my dad always made me assume formation behind him. It was my job to watch his back. He had a bow of his own. He also had a six-shooter he had found at an abandoned police station, but he only pulled it out in extreme cases. My brother, Xandy, was only three years old. I kept him close to me at all times.

  We were coming up on a huge convenience store, just outside the city of Houston. There were broken down cars and skeletons everywhere. Finding a working vehicle would be too much to hope for, but there were always some supplies laying around in places like that. After making sure there was nothing around that could pose a threat, we headed inside. There wasn’t much there, some flashlights, but no batteries. Other people had pretty much sacked the place already. We walked around in there for about half an hour, before I started to hear what sounded like gunshots, out in the distance.

  “Dad,” I called him, “did you hear that?”

  “What?” he replied nervously.

  I was on lookout, but he had been messing with some tools and hadn’t heard anything over the rattle he was making. He stopped and listened. A few seconds later, “Bam!” It definitely sounded like a gunshot that time.

  “Crap!” he cried, “Check the windows! Quick! Xandy, come here with daddy! Come!” He picked my brother up and ran to the windows a few yards away from me. “Can you see anything, Dana?”

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  We heard another shot, and another. Then we heard a series of those screechy screams we knew all too well.

  “Demented!” my dad cried fearfully.

  “I think it’s coming from the backside,” I noted.

  We both ran to the back end of the store, looking for windows or doors. There were mostly service entrances, locked down or broken shut. Finally, we found one that had been pried opened. The gunshots and screaming were getting closer. We peered out and saw a young woman, in black clothes, running desperately from a small horde of about ten or so demented. Those pale skinned creatures glistened in the daylight. The girl was a fast runner, but the monsters were catching up to her.

  “Damn,” my dad lamented, “she doesn’t stand a chance... and she’s heading straight for us! Damn it! Dana, take your brother!”

  I pulled the bow over my head and took my brother from my dad’s arms. My dad put the bow away as well, and drew his revolver, checking to see it was loaded. I ran ahead, as my dad pointed me to a different section of the store. We hid behind a counter. Hopefully, the girl would run right past us and take those abominations with her.

  “Shouldn’t we help her?” I inquired.

  My dad hesitated, but then answered, “I don’t think there’s much we can do, honey. There’s too many of them.”

  He was probably right. She was going to run out of ammo soon. I just hoped we wouldn’t have to listen to them catch her... and eat her. We heard the demented rushing inside, but then things went quiet. That meant the girl had found someplace to hide. It was bad news for us. When they couldn’t find their prey, the demented would always go into search mode and they were dead quiet about it. Sadly, it wasn’t long before we heard one of them scream, alerting the others it had found the girl.

  There were more gunshots and screaming. As she fought the monsters off, she ended up jumping over the counter we were hiding behind. When she saw us, she froze for half a second, bewildered. Then one of the demented jumped at her, knocking her over. It couldn’t be helped, the other demented saw us and chaos ensued. My dad jumped up and started taking shots at the nearest demented. My dad had always told me to stay hidden if something like that ever happened. And that was the first time we ever had to face off against a horde. But as I peered over the counter, I realized we needed all the help we could get.

  The black haired girl was on her back, only barely keeping the demented over her from tearing her apart. She was using her shotgun as a bat, taking whacks at it. A single scratch and she could get infected. I stood up and took aim. The creature fell dead over the girl, with an arrow through its chest. She jumped back up, glanced at me and then pulled out a handgun and started picking off some of the other demented. My dad had killed one or two, but the others were charging in at us. I managed to take two more down before they overran us. After that, we were fighting them off with whatever we could get our hands on, rubble, tools that were laying around in the store. At one point, the black haired girl took one of the monsters out bashing its head in with the cash register.

  Somehow, when it was all over, the ten or so demented were all dead and we were all fine.

  “Are you hurt?” my dad questioned me anxiously.

  I checked myself for bites or scratches. “I think I’m clean, dad,” I finally answered.

  “Go check on your brother,” he ordered. Then he looked over to the black haired girl and asked, “What about you there? Are you okay?”

  She was leaning back against the counter, panting with exhaustion. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ awesome, thanks,” she said sarcastically.

  “I meant, are you sure you’re not infected?” he insisted.

  “I said, I’m fine, pops!” she barked at him, “Chill! The fuck are you people doing out here anyway?”

  “Hey!” he barked back at her, “Watch your language, will you! There are kids here.”

  “Really, pops?” she wondered, glaring at him, “We’re fuckin’ livin’ the end days here and you’re worried about me cussing? Unreal...”

  But my dad was pissed. He walked up to her and said angrily, “I’m worried some crazy girl might bring a bunch of demented straight for my family! That’s what I’m worried about! What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Dude, back the fuck off!” she warned defensively.

  My dad wasn’t impressed. He stared her down.

  She backed away from him angrily and tightened the grip on her pistol. Then her eyes went from my dad to me and my brother. “Look, dude,” she restarted, raising her hands peacefully, “I’m sorry you folks got mixed up in that shit, but, in case you hadn’t noticed, I was just running for my fuckin’ life there. It’s not like I meant to run into those freaks. Okay?”

  I felt for her. It seemed like she was being honest enough. “Dad,” I said carefully, “she didn’t even know we were here... and we’re all okay. No harm, no foul, right?”

  He sighed and crossed his arms.

  I turned to the girl and asked, “What’s your name?”

  She studied me for a second then replied, “Just call me Bibi. You?”

  “Dana,” I replied, “I mean, Daniela, my name is Daniela, but everyone calls me Dana.”

  “Everyone?” she wondered, “How many are you?”

  “Oh,” I realized, “No, it’s just us But when I used to have friends, they’d call me Dana.”

  She nodded at me and said, “Cool. Hey, you have some sick skills with that bow there.”

  “Thanks,” I said, happily.

  “You know, dudes,” she went on, “We kinda make a good team, the three of us... or maybe the four of us, with the little kid. We annihilated those freakazoids, huh?”

  My dad didn’t quite approve of the comment, but he didn’t say anything. In any case, there was no more time to fraternize. We heard more demented screams in the distance.

  “Fuck!” Bibi cried, “We gotta fuckin’ move!”

  My dad turned to her and asked, “Where are all these demented coming from? The city?”

  “Yeah,” she informed, “Houston’s
like a fuckin’ hive. I thought I’d get some fuel there, for my bike, but...“

  “You have a bike?” I wondered.

  “Not anymore,” she lamented.

  “So,” my dad pointed out objectively, “we’ll have to go around the city. Let’s go.”

  We got our gear ready and headed out... together.

  - - - - -

  It’s a miracle none of us got infected that day. I thought that was it, we were all dead, but somehow we made it. Of course, if you ask Bibi, she’ll tell you she didn’t need any help. She had it all figured out. I think she knows, as well as I do, she’d be dead if it weren’t for my dad and I. She just isn’t good at admitting vulnerability.

  In any case, she’s been tagging along with us ever since. My dad was pissed at her for a while there, for almost getting us all killed. Nothing got him angry like people putting his family in danger. She saved our skins more than once since then too, so... he eventually forgave her. She’s a good friend, the best. Crazy as she is, I trust her with my life, simple as that. We headed east together until we came up on Jackson, Mississippi. That’s when we met Stone, about a year after running into Bibi... but that’s a really long story... Some other time maybe. Suffices to say, I trust him every bit as much as I do Bibi.

  There are a few other people in town I guess I could say I trust. Singer, for one, has been a good friend. He’s the only one I know that’s about my age, only two years older than me. Then there’s my hunting squad. Mouse, Lexa and Buba. At the very least, I trust them enough to have my back when we’re out hunting. Oh, and speaking of hunting, there’s also Ranger, almost forgot about him. He’s also about my age, only a year older (I think). It’s just he “seems” much older, the way he acts. He’s a bit of a mystery that guy... Ian Ranger... the only person not in my squad that uses a bow. He sometimes goes out hunting with us. Can’t really say I know much about him though.

  Anyway, I’m sure they’re all good people, but... it’s not the same. You never really know a person until you find yourself in a tight spot with them. That's when you see people for who they really are. I’ve been there with Bibi and Stone many times before, but not yet with the others. I met them all after moving into Harptown and life here has been... relatively uneventful. Maybe I'm being too judgmental, but trust just doesn't come easy.

  Well, I ended up writing quite a bit, didn’t I? Interesting... and a little weird. It’s getting really late and tomorrow’s another day, so... I better wrap it up for now.

  Good night.

  Entry 02

  February 20th, 47

  Life in Harptown

  Today something happened... I wasn’t going to write about it, but it seems I just can’t sleep, my mind won’t quiet down. The trouble is, I’m still not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe I should start from the beginning...

  Everyday, at daybreak, they set off that military siren. The whole town comes alive, all at once. It’s kinda annoying, but you get used to it. It’s not like we have much of a choice anyway, no one wants to miss breakfast. Most go as early as possible to get it while it’s still hot. I got Xandy washed up and dressed and off we went to the cafeteria...

  I think maybe I should do that book thing again and write it the way it happened, instead of just describing it.

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  Most of the gang was already there, waiting for us, when we walked inside. They were standing in a small circle next to the door, as usual. We all eat together, breakfast, supper and dinner, except on hunting days, when my squad and I spent the day out in the woods.

  “Hi guys,” I said, walking up to them.

  They all greeted me back.

  “What’re we having today?” I asked casually.

  Stone sighed, “The usual.”

  “Right,” I chuckled, quickly getting what he meant.

  The food there wasn’t bad or anything, but it mostly just tasted like chicken, no matter what they had brewed up that particular time. Less than a minute after I had arrived, Singer showed up, with a big grin on his face.

  "Good morning, everyone!" he cried.

  Warmth came naturally to him, he even "looked" warm. He was a ginger, with wavy copper-red hair, just long enough to brush his finger through. He had the typical freckles over his nose and wore thin, brown rimmed glasses, that he kept pushing back up into place. His eyes were a dark brown, always half squinted by his constant smiling. He was always laughing at something or other, always very spirited. Everyone loved him for it. With him there, only Bibi was still missing, but she always came in late for breakfast. We never waited for her. There was already a long line of hungry townspeople at the counter.

  As we awaited our turn, I remembered, “Hey, Singer, I finally started the journal yesterday.”

  “Really?” he asked happily, “That’s awesome, Dana! And how was it? Weird?”

  “A little,” I replied, “I mean, it felt nice, but I dunno... I keep asking myself, what’s the point.”

  “Well,” he pointed out, “only you can answer that. But, if writing makes you feel good, it must be working, right? Just keep at it and see where it leads you.” He then looked down at Xandy and asked, "And how are you doing today, young man?"

  "Hungry," Xandy reported.

  Used to be, Xandy only felt at home around Bibi and I, but Singer was getting there. Being a school teacher, he had to deal with kids on a daily basis. Some people in town didn't appreciate his work. "Looking after kids wasn't a real man's job," they'd say. But Singer was good at what he did and loved doing it. He had offered to help me out if I ever needed a babysitter. But Bibi was my go-to girl for that. When she wasn't available, Stone would always step in. I was reluctant to trust anyone, when it came to my brother, so I ended up telling Singer it wasn't necessary. I was reconsidering his offer though, there was just no denying how great he was with kids. As I stood there thinking about it, Stone started up a conversation, in his cowboy voice.

  "Have you heard?” he asked, “They're calling for yet another town meeting today."

  I snapped out of my reverie and said, "Let me guess, the guards are going to ask for more provisions again."

  "When is it ever NOT that?" Singer replied grimly.

  Stone continued, "It's the usual pointless hassle." He didn't usually talk much, but when it came to town politics he always had strong opinions.

  I listened in, but didn't really engage the chat. The others were more invested in that sort of thing, especially Singer. Him and Stone sounded like two intellectuals, debating the subject. Stone was always more on the cold realistic side, while Singer offered younger, more optimistic views. It was funny watching them get along. They never really seemed to agree on things, but at the same time I think they enjoyed exchanging thoughts.

  With them chatting away, it wasn't long before we got to the counter and picked up our morning meal trays. As the others began to head to the table, I looked at Stone and cocked my head at him, as if to say, "Do you have a minute? We need to talk."

  He just nodded affirmatively.

  I then, crouched in front of Xandy and told him, "Hey sweetie, why don't you go with Singer for a minute. I'll be right there, okay?"

  Singer smiled pleasantly at me and took Xandy by the hand, no questions asked.

  Once the others were out of earshot, Stone turned to me and asked, "What's up, kid?"

  I spoke casually, so as not to worry him, "Nothing much, I was just wondering... what do you think of Singer?"

  "What about him exactly?" He looked at me with a funny face, as if I had just asked him for advice regarding my love life or something.

  "Oh!" I quickly rectified, "No, I meant, how far would you trust him? He seems like a nice guy, right?"

  Stone gave me a mocking grin, but then considered the matter seriously, "What do I think about Singer? Well, I don't mind having him around, if that's what you mean. The kid’s good company, smart, not very experienced, but he at least seems to have a good grasp on what's going
on around him. It’s more than I can say for most people in this town. But if you're asking me if I'd trust him to watch my back in a scrap, my answer would be NO. Definitely not. He doesn't even know how to handle a gun..."

  That wasn't quite what I wanted to know, so I decided to spill the beans and try to get a more direct answer, "Actually, I'm asking cuz he offered to babysit for me a while back. Would you trust him with Xandy?"

  "Oh, sure," he answered confidently, "he's perfect for the job. He keeps out of trouble, knows how to handle kids and Xandy already seems to like him... yeah, I think it'd be a great arrangement."

  I suddenly realized what I was saying. Looking up at Stone, I tried to explain, "Not that I'd choose him over you..."

  But he laughed at me and said, "Don't be ridiculous, kid. You should totally choose him over me. It's like he was born for that sort of thing. I'll always help you whenever you need me, of course, but I think you know by now I'm no good with Xandy."

  "Right," I said halfheartedly.

  He insisted, "Dana, seriously, don't sweat it. Besides, you have to think what's best for your brother, not how I'm going to feel about it. Come on, let’s eat. I'm starved." Without waiting for me to argue the matter, he headed to the counter. That was Stone, practical and to the point.

  I nodded at myself, accepting his point, and followed him. The specialty of the day was chicken soup, bread and milk with honey. It was still steaming hot as I sat down next to Xandy. Singer was there helping him eat up. Without saying a word, he let me take over for him.

  "I miss coffee," Stone lamented, with a grim sigh.

  Singer commented cheerfully, "I've actually never had coffee. My mother wouldn't let me have any when I was young and, by the time I was old enough, we had run out. Coffee baffles me. Everyone says it was bitter as hell, but everyone seemed to like it."