Saturday, July 29, 2017

From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 22

March 22, 2016

     We passed through a lot of small towns in Colorado over the last few days. I remember Julesburg, Crook, and Iliff. They were all small and cute while we passed through. There were not a lot of people is some of the towns along the 138. Sterling was the largest place we have passed through so far this side of the state line. It said the population was almost 14,000 people, but it seemed like there were twice that many undead creatures walking around. We did not stop there, it was too risky for the two of us to think we could handle a really big group of them. Williams said it was smarter to wait and scavenge in the smaller towns on the way while avoiding the more populated areas.
     It has taken us a lot longer than Williams thought it would to get this far. There are cars abandoned everywhere. We have had to stop and move more cars than I can count and we haven't even made it there yet. I bet there are going to be more and more cars as we get closer to Denver and I am not happy about it. I am so sore from pushing cars and walking and just getting by. I want to be at the airport already and I really want there to be other survivors there. I might still stay with Williams even if there are others there. I will have to wait and see what they look like and decide what to do from there.
     Tomorrow we leave again at first light and will be passing through a place called Fort Morgan. I looked it up in the map book we found two days ago and it says the population is over 11,300. We are not going to stop but keep pushing through to Wiggins since there are less than 1,000 people there. I just hope that we don't run into any groups we can't handle on our own. It would be different if we had more than 20 other people with us. There would someone to watch everyone's back. It would be better even if all we had was around 10. Really any more than the 2 we have now would be an improvement. Hopefully, we will find others at the airport and we can all team up together.
     I never thought I would say this, but I miss school. It was sure a lot better than the way things are now. I miss my grandparents and I guess I miss my mom. I wish everything was back to way it used to be. I would even be fine with the people in town calling me names and being mean, as long as I got Pops and Gran back. I would be OK with Mom not coming back, too. As long as Pops and Gran were OK.
     I have never been this far from Brule before and definitely not for this long. I miss my room and being in the living room watching stupid T.V. shows with Pops. I really miss the smell of Gran's cooking and would eat anything that she made right now, even the sauerkraut!
     I better go to sleep soon as Williams will be getting me up at the butt crack of dawn and insist on leaving within 10 minutes. I have not idea how he keeps watch most of the night and still stays awake all day long. So far, he has not trusted me to drive, but he told me he will teach me when we get to the airport. I sure hope so. It would be another skill that I don't have now and it might save us sometime if we get in a jam.
     Time to sleep. Tomorrow is gong to come soon enough and it should be really fun getting through Fort Morgan.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 20

March 20, 2017

     Our group is still making slow progress. We left Eldorado Springs 3 days ago and arrived in Northglenn last night. We had to skirt the larger cities around Denver once we left Golden and so we had to go farther out than we wanted to. But, we made it without losing anyone or any of the cars we have left. Everyone was exhausted when we pulled over last night from 3 days of driving and struggling to move the snarls of cars off the roads to get by. We have decided to stay here today and decide tonight after dinner if we are ready to move on tomorrow.
     Yesterday, Aaron went ahead with a couple of the men to scout a location to set up camp while the rest of us stayed outside town for safety. They decided that Stukey Elementary School would be one of the safest locations to stay at. It had not been a designated emergency center because there is fencing and scaffolding around the building from ongoing remodeling work. I guess someone was worried about the children running around and getting hurt if people were staying there.
     We cut the lock on the gate to get through it and circled up the cars. We secured the gate behind us, set up sentries and assigned teams to search for undead inside the fenced area. Luckily, there were only two of janitors and two yard maintenance personnel who were easily dispatched. An exit point was chosen from the building and the cars were set up facing out as close as we could get them to the door.
     Amanda, Anthony and Jesus went to the cafeteria to see if anything was edible or in working order. I was secretly hoping that the fridge and freezer were still functioning, but alas, no such luck. Amanda put a sign on the doors so no one else would try to open them again and got to work setting up in the work space. There was a small cheer when she found the gas still on for the stove top and we knew we would be getting hot food for dinner that did not taste of campfire and smoke. Anthony found the supply of canned goods and non perishables and these were added to our food supplies.
     Chris, who used to work as a school custodian, set off with a couple of the button pushers to find other necessary items, like toilet paper and soap. The rest of us set up the beds in the cafeteria
on one side while others set up tables with utensils on the other side for when the food was done.
     Dinner was a happy affair with everyone laughing and talking since we were in a more secure location. The sentries were taken their warm food and extra clothing since the sun was going down. Candles were lit and Dave, one of the button pushers, pulled out his guitar and Rose, a medical assistant by training, sang. They played some of their favorites and then took requests for over an hour and they were able to play most of the songs suggested. I think it was the best night that I have spent since the start of the pandemic. No one wanted it to end so all the children protested and whined to stay up later when told to go to bed. The adults stayed up and talked while we can, as well as laugh and play music without the undead hearing and attacking our camp.
     It was agreed that we would stay here for a day and rest. The children were getting grouchy from traveling all the time. I know that it has been good to not sit in a car for a day, and sleeping past dawn was heavenly. The children spent the day looking through the classrooms for toys and forgotten clothes. I spent several hours looking through the library for books to read, both for the children and for myself. I found some classics and a couple of how to books that must have been put there for the teachers what elementary school student would want to read a manual on fixing electronics or HVAC systems repair. I took anything that looked useful or interesting. I ended up with two boxes of books that were put in the trunk of one of the cars for everyone to be able to look through.
     Today was like a mini holiday and was sorely needed by everyone. We are really hoping that when we get to the airport, there will be other survivors. It would be nice if there were some soldiers, as well. We are getting better at defending ourselves against the undead walkers, but it would be good to have some people trained in fighting techniques to teach the rest of us. If not, we will learn on the go, it will just take a little longer.
     We had another great night together tonight. Kim, one of our nurses, found the music room which made it possible for more people joined in. We ended up having a sing along and even threw in some songs for the children. Our group will be moving on tomorrow, first thing, so we are all going to bed early tonight. The everything besides our bedding is packed and ready to go. The time spent at this school will be a bright, shining memory for the rest of my life. We plan on locking the gate behind us, so if anyone else is in need of a safe place to stay here, the school will hopefully not be overrun.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

From the journal of Nathan Sanchez, March 20

March 20, 2017

     I know now what Gilligan and company felt like on that old T.V. show. What was supposed to be, at most, a overnight excursion turned into a three day trip from hell. We headed out with a definite destination in mind and knew what we were looking to take back. We were blocked before making to the town limits by the biggest group of undead any of us have seen yet. There must have been at least 15 of them and we only had the 4 of us. This changed out route and we had to make a really quick U turn to find another back road into town. This happened twice more before we were able to make it through, the smallest group was made up of only 10. By the time we made it to town, the sun was getting close to setting so we decided to find somewhere to camp for the night.  

     After a 10 minute discussion, we decided that the most defense-able building in town is the library. The building was put up in the late 1800's and is made of brick with iron grills over the windows, which are high up in the walls, supposedly to provide better light for reading. We turned down the side street it is off of and came face to face with another group of undead. This one had at least 10 and I recognized a couple of the men in the group. They were from Lexington, the largest city near Elwood. That is when I realized what had more than likely happened. Elwood did not have an emergency center because there is not enough people, but Lexington has around 10,000 people. They asked people to either stay home or go to the emergency center there. Most of those undead we had seen today must have come from that camp, which means it was overrun. We were lucky to have only seen groups numbering in the teens.
     Another U turn and a quick drive around the block had us pulling into the back library parking lot. We scrambled into the building and made sure that the doors were all secured. After checking the entire building and finding ourselves the only ones present, we settled in for the night.  That is when the real discussion started. Rico wanted to continue with the original plan and go to the feed store before returning to the ranch. Carlos wanted to go to the feed store but then go to the emergency camp to see if there were any supplies or weapons still there. Miguel wanted to give up for now and head back to the ranch empty handed and yellow backed. Darren said he was good with either going to the feed store or the feed store and the camp but was not O.K. with just chucking it all after what we had gone through just to make it to town. I thought it best to do what we had set out to do and get more cousins to back us up at the camp, but I was out voted and we had another destination to add to our outing.
    Sleep didn't come quickly to any of us that night. Every little sound had us jerking up to make sure we had not missed one of the freaks when we searched the library. 6 a.m. came early and I gave up pretending to sleep. Darren was already up and keeping watch on the street out front while Rico was in the back doing to same. Seems like I was not the only one with trouble sleeping that night. We left quickly and quietly out the back and made our way to the feed store with only one detour for undead.
Once inside, it was quick work to find what we needed. This was one of those places that we had all spent time in growing up, with our parents and grandparents, uncles and aunts. We were in and out in less than 2 hours with everything on the list that Papa had given to us. Next we headed to Lexington against my better judgement.
     What should have taken between 20 and 30 minutes turned into another day of detour hell. We ran into larger and larger groups of the undead the closer we got to Lexington. I had a really bad feeling and even Darren, who is the least cowardly person I have ever know, started saying it might have been a bad idea to try to get to the camp. By the time the we made it to the outskirts of Lexington, the sun was less than 2 hours from setting.  None of us had spent much time there, so we had no idea where we were going to make our camp. Downtown, we found an old brick bank building with minimal windows and settled in for another long night of no sleep.
     When we got up and around yesterday, it became clear how much of a mistake going to Lexington had been. There were at least 200 of the undead freaks wandering aimlessly around in front and that was just in our line of sight. Rico went to check out the back of the building and when he came back, I knew it was just as bad back there from the look on his face. We were fucked.
     The rest of the day was spent trying to come up with a plan to get us out to our truck and away from this place as fast and safely as possible. How we were going to get to the truck in the side parking lot and not get swarmed by the undead was less clear. Ideas were thrown around that included someone sacrificing themselves for the group and finding a radio to set up a diversion in another part of the downtown area. But the idea we agreed on was to get from our building to one of the neighboring ones and set that one on fire. Hopefully, it would be enough to draw the attention of the horde out front so we could make it to the truck.
     Carlos was chosen to make the fire and we all went to the roof to see how close the other buildings were. The bank backed up to an old drive in diner that had seen better days even before the pandemic. It was made from wood and there were places in the walls that light was shining through from the dry rot. It also happened to be only 8 feet across the alley from the bank. We found a ladder and Carlos walked across it between the buildings like he was on a tightrope. Once across, he set the fire on the back balcony where the fire quickly spread. Carlos barely made it back across the ladder before the balcony he had been on was completely engulfed in flames. In less than 10 minutes, the entire second floor was on fire and it was putting out a lot of smoke. The sound of the building burning was like a train passing close by on the tracks. The diversion worked and within 15 minutes, all of the freaks out in front had turned and were headed for the diner like sleep walkers. We took the first good chance we had and raced to the truck parked at the curb, only drawing the attention of a couple of the undead freaks. Darren and I took them out quietly, with knives, before they could start the moaning and draw more attention from the others. It took us the rest of yesterday just to make it back to the Elwood library.
     This morning we got up and headed to the town grocery store to look for non perishables. We were in luck and found the store intact and empty of the undead. We loaded up everything that seemed remotely edible and headed back to the ranch. I made sure that they all knew I was right about not trying to go the camp in Lexington and said I would remind them of this situation the next time I did not want to try something so stupid. I was so happy to get back to the ranch that I almost cried when it came into sight.
     The other group of cousins was not as successful as we were with their search. Turns out that none of the neighbors had survived. Some of the farms had too many undead for their group to handle, so they were only able to search a little over half of them. At least they had been smart enough to know their limits and not attempt the impossible or stupid.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the record kept by the twins Jenny and Barbie Crow, March 22

March 22, 2017

     Jenny and I have gotten onto a schedule of searching apartments every other day. We have worked our way up to being able to search at least four each time. We decided it is better to know what is available in the towers instead of assuming it will be available to us later. We have almost filled the room we are using as storage and all the closets in our apartment, too. We have enough on hand right now to last the two of us around three months at our pre-pandemic calorie intake. Neither of us have eaten that much in weeks, so I think it would last us at least another month on top of that.
     I know that Jenny used to laugh at me for watching all the prepping shows and trying to be prepared. Now, she is really happy about it. I have taught her a lot of what I learned before this all started and she has been showing me some of the medical knowledge that she has. Mostly easy stuff, like stitches or putting in an I.V. line. She says it's just in case something happens to her and she ends up needing my help. I think it makes her feel better being able to teach me something that will be useful. The first couple of weeks, she was really out of her element. Jenny is one of those people that control as much around them as they can to give a feeling of control over things out of your control. I know that she felt helpless and had no idea what we should do next. I had to lead her around, almost by the hand, and show her what to do.
     I know that she was in shock. She had spent so many years working towards her goal of being a doctor, like Dad. Then it was all gone. School, hospitals, all of it. It took her brain a bit to adjust, but once she made the switch in her mind, she got better at being here and doing what we have to do. She has had nightmares since the night we killed that man. It was against everything that she has always believed and she has a lot of guilt over it. I keep telling her that there is nothing else we could have done, except die. Hopefully, she will realize this in time.
     We took the stairs down to where the towers come from the base of the building to look and see how bad it is down there. All the windows are gone on the ground floor but someone was able block the base off from the towers. That is why the stairs have remained clear for us to get between the floors. We made our way outside where the pool is and walked around to see the streets using binoculars. It looked like a parade was going on out on the street. The amount of the undead walking around aimlessly was overwhelming. We saw what happens when they hear something and become more animated when a dog was chased down the sidewalk.

     We had been looking around for about an hour. The undead were just standing around, not deliberately moving, just milling around. They were not making any noise of their own, either.This was weird because all of the ones we have come across have made this awful sound. We were just starting to whisper about how quiet they were being when we heard the dog barking from a ways off. By the time he had come into sight, all of those in front of our building were turned and headed towards the sound and starting to make the moaning sound we were used to hearing. We watched the undead trying to catch the dog with no coordination left in their limbs and got a small chuckle out of it. Now, we have stopped talking about leaving the towers because we know how much we would be facing just to get out of the building.
    Four months of supplies does not seem like very prepared anymore. Watching the zombies in the street was what made us set a schedule. It makes me feel better keeping to our schedule because if either of us get hurt, we need to have food and water in our apartment for however long we would have to recover. It is just not safe for one of us to go scavenging by herself. We found that out when we came across the guy who tried to kill us and also when we found the four zombies in one apartment.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

From the record kept by the twins Jenny and Barbie Crow, March 20

From the record kept by Jenny (Jennifer) and Barbie (Barbara) Crow. They brought it with them when they left their building on Green Street in Jersey City, New Jersey. From there it passed through many sets of hands before being placed in the archive.

March 20, 2017

     Barbie and I have decided to keep a record, in case we do not make it. It has been a little over 2 months since the first know case of this pandemic, somewhere in Southern California. We have seen no one else alive in 33 days.
     I remember that I was not happy to have Barbie move into my apartment in October last year. Now, I am so grateful that there is no way I can express it to her enough. I was in med school and did not have time to do anything but eat, sleep, study and work. She was a waitress who wanted to be an actress someday. While I studied my ass off, she watched T.V. shows on prepping and survival. I know that I laughed at her the day she started stocking our apartment up on food and water. Last year for Christmas, she got us both a big box of MRE's instead of something soft or pretty. I told her there was no reason to wasted her meager pay on something that we would more than likely never need or use. Boy, was I ever wrong.
     I would have starved by now without her planning. I thought she didn't know anything as useful as medicine. She has taught me so much over the last couple of months, I have her to thank for being here.
     We had a good stockpile of food and water in the apartment when the shit hit the fan. We both figured it would be crazy for a couple of days, weeks at the most. Then the world would right itself and life would return to what we considered normal. We stayed in our place and kept quiet. I kept expecting the National Guard or Army to come evacuate our area. No one ever came though. January finished, then February came in with a bang when the water and electricity turned off in the building. No refrigeration, no air conditioning or circulation, no showers. We made it through February on the supplies we already had on hand. When we ran out of bottled water and juices, we took the water out of the tanks on the toilets and boiled it before drinking. Then, about 2 weeks ago, we knew it was time to start scavenging from the surrounding apartments. The MRE's were getting old and we needed some variety in our diets. Fresh fruits and vegetables are too much to hope for, but canned food is better than nothing.
     I bought an apartment on the 14th floor when I got my inheritance from Gramma. It is really the 13th floor though, and I bought apartment 1413, just to mess with my mother who hates the number 13. When Barbie moved in, I thought she would have a heart attack. No such luck, though.
     It was decided that we would start across the hall for our first scavenging mission. We chose apartment 1411 for a couple of reason. Mrs. Jackson, the lady who lives there, is really old and stocks up on canned food like other old ladies stock up on doilies. She would have her daughter take her shopping at least once a week and she always came back with at least 2 bags of cans. Yet, she ate most of her meals from Meals on Wheels. This led us to hope that we would find food to eat in her apartment, we would just have to check the best by dates to be safe.

     I was not sure if Mrs. Jackson was still in her apartment, or if her daughter came and took her to the suburbs. When we opened the door, the smell of death was over powering. I have had to deal with the dead in med school, but Barbie threw up in the hallway right outside the door to 1411. We left the door open and stayed in the hallway for a bit, but it did not help as much as either of us wanted. At least we could breathe.
     Before we left the apartment, I had taken down the sword given to me by me ex-boyfriend as a gag gift. It is really pretty, and heavy. I put it on the mantle and promptly forgot about it and him, except to dust it occasionally. Barbie took the fire axe from the end of the hallway. Neither of us had any experience with using these types of weapons.
     All I can say is that we got really lucky. Mrs. Jackson was sitting in her chair in her living room. She looked dead and was not moving when we walked in, but once she heard or smelled us, she became a 100 pound, 98 year old predator with a bad hip. If we had chosen any other apartment and had to take on anyone bigger or stronger, we might not be here.
     It took both of us hacking and slashing at her and what felt like an hour for us to take her down. We searched the entire apartment and what we found was pretty strange. The only dishes we found in the kitchen appeared to stay in the dishwasher. All of the cabinets in the place were full of canned goods and non perishables, even under the sinks in the kitchen and bathrooms. It took us a couple of hours to pack the cans across the hall and more than 10 trips total. We now had a good stock pile of food, but no bottled water. We made one last trip across the hall and emptied the toilet tanks into jugs for boiling and drinking. After returning to our apartment we discussed going to another apartment,  but decided to wait until another day.
     By the time we had cleaned out the apartments on out floor, we felt much better prepared. There were waters and juices, as well as more food than we could fit in our kitchen and the closets became storage areas too. Our building, or buildings to be more correct, has 2 towers that each have 48 floors. We knew that meant there was food and water available close to our place and would hopefully minimize our risk while getting it. Most of the people in the towers were like myself and purchased their apartment alone or as a couple. Children are not restricted, but this is not a very child friendly building to live in. There are not many other kids to play with and no place in the neighborhood to play anyway. This meant that most apartments only have one or two people living in them. That is better odds than what we would find out on the streets of Jersey City. The most people we found in one apartment so far was on the 10th floor. There were parents and a set of twin girls around 10 years old. They were already undead when we found them and by then, we had a lot more experience with out weapons. It took no time to take out the girls and their mother. The father was a big man though and we had to work together to take him down. We found juices and fruit snacks galore and bottled water too. There were cookies and crackers and we were thrilled to get these treats.
     Now, Barbie and I take turns keeping watch in the living room while the other one sleeps in the master bedroom. The second bedroom has become our pantry and by keeping the curtains and doors closed, we can control the temperature and keep it more even for our supplies. We also are better armed now as well. We found a sawed off shotgun, two 9 mm pistols, and one .357 service revolver. We try not to use them, unless there is no other choice because they are so loud and the sound draws the undead to our street. There is no longer the sound of traffic or other people to help drown it out. The last time we shot one off, we 34 days ago on the 10th floor. We found a man, still alive in his apartment. He had lost his mind and tried to kill  us and threatened to eat us. I had to shoot him before he could hurt Barbie. We had not cleared all the apartments on that floor and the sound made the undead try to get out into the hallway. This caused a chain reaction that drew the attention of undead on other floors as well. For hours, all we could hear was banging on doors and walls from the floors around us. This has made me think that we should be more quiet when scavenging in the apartments. If we are still lucky, we will not find anyone else like him in the towers. Eventually we will have to decide to decide what our next plan is. There are a finite number of apartments and we will run out of supplies at some point. For right now though, I don't want to think about it.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of Nathan Sanchez, March 17

March 17, 2017

     I haven't been able to write in almost 2 weeks. The farm is a good place to be now, out of the major local towns, there is livestock, and there is room for the children to run and play in relative safety. But Uncle Ramon is very old, gotta be close to 100, and the ranch is not in as good of shape as I remember it being when Nana and Papa lived here. He only managed to plant a small kitchen garden in the back yard this year and his grandchildren have had to come take care of the animals for a few years now. His daughter, Maria, moved in as his caretaker about 3 years ago, when her husband passed away. She cooks and cleans as much as she can but she is 63 years old, so there is only so much that she can do. Consuela, her daughter, came here with the rest of the family from town and has since taken over the household duties. She has pulled all the other women and girls into her little army and she runs this ranch house with an iron hand.

     The men have been making repairs to the buildings and getting the ground prepared in the fields to plant whatever we can find to grow for food. It has been a lot of work to get this place livable for our extended family, but we are finally seeing progress. It has been really good to be around the family again and I have not spent this much time around all the cousins since I was a child running through the fields and orchards here. Of course, they were in better shape then and would need work to produce edible fruit. The first few nights here, everywhere I looked were memories of get parties and reunions.  I could just about hear Great Uncle Carlos and how he used to say when our family had a get together, the 3 F's were involved:  food, family and fun. Back then, Uncle Ramon was Nana and Papas' caretaker, like his daughter is now with him.  We used to come out here every weekend in the summer time and the cousins would camp in the field while the adults did whatever mysterious adult things they did together.
     Darren, myself and several of the cousins are going to head into Elwood and go to the feed store to see what we can find. Uncle Ramon said he hasn't seen any neighbors since this all began, so another group of cousins is going to see if anyone else is still alive and if not, see what food and supplies they can find.
     Hopefully, between all of us working in groups together, we can find enough to make our survival situation better. There should be seed and other starter plants for a bigger food garden. But what we really wanted to find was something like sorghum, something sustainable and more pest resistant than regular corn. We have the land and with help from the older family members, we have the knowledge to plant and harvest it all by hand. Yes, we did have all the modern farming equipment, but they take a lot of fuel. This is something that we all know is going to become an issue. We have the human power and our stomachs will provide the motivation, even for the younger generation who are going through withdrawals from electronics.
     Every now and again, I see one of the electronically challenged look at their hands in search of their phones that used to be attached. They would blink and look around for a minute or so, and then the spell would pass. I don't think some of them have spent any time outdoors, outside of school, voluntarily for years. I keep expecting them to rebel and demand access to their Twitter or Facebook. We have given them all chores or tasks to do, like taking care of the animals or helping with the childcare, so the adults can do other things like cook and plant food.
     Nana even had Papa and the men get the outdoor adobe oven from the shed and set up the outside kitchen like it was when they were first married. With there being no electricity, the fridge, stove, and other appliances were useless lumps of metal. The older women are teaching those who want to learn how to preserve food like they did as girls. Salt, smoking and dehydrating for the meats; canning and preserves for fruits and vegetables. There has been an open invitation for years to be taught these skills, but no one was willing to put time into learning. Now, this is considered an invaluable skill that everyone might need to know and a schedule has been set up so everyone gets a chance to learn.
     Darren is yelling at me to get my ass moving so I will try to write more later. I hope we find what we need to get us through the days that are coming.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

From the journal of Nathan Sanchez, March 8

This journal on a flash drive was donated to the archives by Darren Sanchez, brother of the author Nathan Sanchez. Darren requested that this journal be included to illustrate how regular people rose to challenges in the days of the beginning of the pandemic. If not for the bravery of his brother, Darren and the other men who were incarcerated in the Lincoln County Detention Center at the onset of the pandemic would not have had a chance.

March 8, 2017

     I had to go to the Lincoln County Detention Center today because the phones have not been working for a few days now and the family was worried about Darren. He was supposed to call home for Nana's 95th birthday on the 5th, but no call came through. I spent all day yesterday trying to get through to make sure everything is OK,  but the lines are not working like they do when a storm knocks everything out. Nana and Papa asked me to go check on my baby brother, even though he is in his 40's and has been incarcerated for most of his teenage and adult life.
     I left early in the morning because it usually takes me at least an hour to get to the detention center. Usually, we call on Tuesday between 9 am and 1 pm to make an appointment to see Darren on Wednesday. The phones would not connect the call all day yesterday, so I am driving down there only to be turned away, most likely. But, if it will stop the grandparents from worrying themselves sick, I will happily drive down just to be told not to worry and to call next week for an appointment.
     Today, it looked like a third world country at war on the way to the detention center. There were bodies in the streets and on the lawns. The stores were being looted or were on fire while people streamed in and out of them like they were already mindless freaks. What good do people think a T.V. is going to be when there is no electricity or internet? I mean, really! Cars were everywhere, some with people driving and some surrounded by the undead freaks banging on the glass like a 3 year old with their first hamster.
     I had to weave in and out of traffic, people and obstacles. I locked my doors the first block away from Nana's house to keep people from trying to open the doors. It took me 3 times as long or more to get to the detention center and when I got out of my 1990 Isuzu Trooper, I was not sure I could believe what I was seeing. There were a bunch of dead freaks in the yard and when I closed the drivers door, I heard men yelling from every pod for help. The front gate was wide open and there were 4 National Guards trucks in the parking lot. I made my way into the yard area and asked the first person I could talk to through a window about what was going on. I learned from this inmate, last name of Jackson, what had happened to the National Guardsmen and the Correctional Officers.
     I made my way to the body of one of the CO's and took his keys from his belt. His name tag said his name was Charlie Marks and he looked like a teenager in the picture on his badge. He was missing his right arm from the elbow down and looked like a wild animal had been gnawing at his face and neck. I saw that all the bodies in the yard had bullet holes in their heads and were staying dead. From what I could see, it looked like the Guardsmen and CO's fought their way out of the center and left the inmates to die slow, horrible deaths. If I could get my hands on any of those people right now, I would do to them just what they did to my brother and all those other men. I would lock them in a small space with minimal food from the commissary. I would leave all the lights on, so it is always light, even at night. I would give them one sink and toilet, out in the open. I would leave them with no hope that they will be rescued. If I had not listened to Nana and Papa, then all those men would have died and no one would have cared except maybe their families, if they were still alive.
     I had seen the guards open the doors it felt like a million times, so I was able to get into Darren's pod quickly. The inmates closest to the locks walked me through how to open the cell doors and once I got a few of them out, we were able to open the rest of the cells pretty fast. We then grabbed more sets of keys from dead CO's and went to the other pods to let the others out, too. We  did have to deal with a little over a dozen undead freak inmates, but we were able to control those situations with locks and take them on with the advantage on our side. I had found the remaining shotguns that usually shoot bean bags and had grabbed a duffel bag of them with live rounds to hand out to the inmates. One of them, a giant African American man named Malik stopped me  to ask why I was helping them. I told him about Darren and said that everyone had made mistakes, but they should all go see if their families were alright.
     Once everyone was free and fed, I explained what had been going on in the outside world and they told me what had happened at the center in more detail. I helped the men organize the 14 vehicles to get them to the areas that people needed to go in. We searched the bodies and found the keys. Once everyone knew what they were doing, I left with Darren and other men in my Trooper headed towards home to Elwood. We helped the others find working cars and dropped them off one by one on the way. Nana and Papa cried when I walked through the door with Darren. Once everyone had calmed down, we got the whole family together and Darren told everyone what had happened at the detention center. We decided to head to our Uncle Ramon's ranch outside town. It has adobe walls that are reinforced with a system of metal rods on the inside that form a scaffolding. He had a garden and an orchard in his yard, as well as chickens, sheep, goats, cows and rabbits. We sent the younger adult family members to collect those not present at Nana's and we headed out to Ramon's to hunker down.
     It is crowded in every building here. The old bunkhouse is where Darren and me are sleeping. The women spent the day cleaning and the men repaired the buildings as best we could. Tents were set up in the fenced yard areas for the children and guards were posed along the walls and in the several vantage points in the yard. We will be planning out a long term strategy this week. Hopefully, we can come to an agreement on how to go from here.
   


As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.
   


From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 17

March 17, 2017

     We left Brule today. I was sad to watch it disappear into the distance, but I also felt happy. It has not been the easiest place to grow up in. I mean, I know that ghettos in large cities must be worse with gangs and drugs and all that. But the people here are just narrow minded and were not nice to a lonely little girl who had done nothing wrong. Parents would not even let their kids be friends with me like my supposed shame could rub off on their precious little angels. Lot of good it did them, keeping them away from me and my immoral family. I have not seen a single person even close to my age, at least not alive, anyway. I had seen a bunch of then undead at the school. Shot a bunch of them, too.
 We spent yesterday going through the houses in town looking for anything useful. I asked Williams what we would do if we found survivors. He had to think about it but finally decided that we would take it on a case by case basis. This sounded good to me because I know some of the crazies who live around here and I would not want to have any of them along for the ride.
     It was a long but rewarding day. We found 7 shotguns, three 9 mm's, a .357 revolver and a bunch of ammo. I also found a hunting rifle, but Williams said it was too old and rusted to be trusted. We found other weapons as well. Food would not be an issue for a while, between what we had left from the food bank and what we scavenged. We even ended up with some home canned items like preserves, relishes, cucumbers and tomato sauces.
     We searched the first couple of houses together and he said he was impressed with some of my suggestions for weapons, like and ax, baseball bat or even the fireplace tools. He told me that after my "valuable contribution" and my show of brilliant brain power, I should take the houses on the other side of the street by myself. We agreed to meet back at the largest house on the block, where we started and left the truck. We had pulled a small enclosed trailer, hoping that we would find enough to make it worth while.
     We spent a couple hours apart searching and kept in tough with the walkies. When we met up, I showed him my haul. I had collected a pile of food, a Japanese katana sword, a small sledgehammer and a set of shovels and hedge trimming tools. I had even grabbed a bowling ball because I thought it might be funny to bowl the next small group of moaners we came on. But I told Williams that for the ultimate game of moaner bowling, we would need about a dozen balls because who would want to get them back!
     We spent hours going through most of the houses in town and ended up with a large haul of goods. We took it all back to the food bank and separated out what we had found to make it easier to pack and find when we needed to. We ate an early dinner and then we went to bed so that we could leave at first light. I thought I would not sleep again, but it felt like only a minute had passed when Williams woke me up. I crawled into my clean clothes and into the truck. I was really glad that he had made me help pack up the truck last night even though I complained the whole time because I was so tired. I know that I watched out the window as Brule disappeared, then I went back to sleep for a while. I don't know where we are now but Williams said we were no longer in Nebraska, so I guess we are in Colorado. Hopefully everything goes well on the way to the airport.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 16

March 16, 2017


     I stopped writing after recording what we saw on the 10th. It still upsets me to think about what those survivors are probably going through. This was the largest group of attackers and the largest group of those attacked that we have seen or seen evidence of. There have been a few other times that we have seen the evidence left after an attack like a group of bodies and burned cars that we found in the middle the road on the 12th. It looked like everyone had been tortured and we couldn't tell how many men, women and children there were in the burned pile of bodies. I hope that they were dead by the time the fire got to them, but I just do not know. Some of the kids have had nightmares since we left the camp, but I know that some of the adults started having them after the 10th. I imagine that it is worse for the women. The men would have it easy and most likely would be killed right away. The women and maybe the children would suffer beyond what my imagination can conjure and I have read about tortures used on women during the Inquisition. Sometimes, an imagination is not your friend, especially in the middle of these long, dark, quiet nights.
     There have been a couple of large groups of roamers that we have had to avoid, too. One of them was at least 15 strong and they were just standing in the middle of the road. I think they were waiting for some sound or sight to stimulate them to start moving again. We have seen this behavior in single roamers or even  few together, but this group is still the largest one that we have seen showing this dormant state. We had to go back about 2 miles and take a side road to make our way around them, but it was safer not to take a chance that there were more of them in the trees right off the road that would be attracted by our trying to get through. We have no idea how large the groups of roamers we encounter will be. I am just grateful that I was not in Denver or Colorado Springs, I think the groups there are a lot larger than what we have seen so far.
     We were all hoping to move a little bit faster, but we are lucky to be making the distance we are making every day. Tomorrow we are going to have to find somewhere to look for more gas for the cars. We have already left four behind 4 of the ones we left the camp in. The amount of gas it takes to run one car has to be worth it to the group. There were 2 SUV's that only got 10 miles or so to the gallon as well as two older cars from the 1970's that were getting around the same. Each had no more than 2 people in them, at the most, so everyone was moved into a vehicle that was staying with the group. I know that Jonathon was not happy to have to leave his early 1970's Cadillac behind, but really. We have other cars that get way better mileage and it was only him in that giant boat of a car. There are some things that people are going to have to let go of, and that car was one of those things for him. Anthony didn't throw a fit at leaving behind his giant SUV and none of the others did either. He understood that it is a necessary sacrifice for the group to get where we need to go. Jonathan is the only one who acted like a 5 year old and even the kids commented to their mothers about it. He either needs to start acting like an adult, or he will have to find another group to go with once we reach the airport in Denver.



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.



From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 15

March 15, 2017

     It has taken us a lot longer than we thought or planned for to skirt around Denver. So far, we have only gone about a third of the way and it has been 8 days. Not all the delay has been caused by the undead, although they have caused their own delays. We have had to get off the road and keep quiet a few times to avoid groups of those still alive. They were preying on groups of other alive to get what they need or want.
     The first group like this that we saw was on March 10th. Luckily for us, we saw them before they saw us. There must have been  or so guys on motorcycles and several truckloads as well. They used the semi truck to push a bus off the road about a mile down the road. We were still at the very crest of the hill when we heard the sound of impacting metal and came to a stop. Those in the bus that survived the crash were dragged off the bus, women and children separated from the men. The women and children were herded to the side while the men were forced onto their knees in the middle of the road and shot execution style. Children and women screamed and cried while the biker group just laughed and started going through the remains of the bus. The women and children were put into the back of a military convoy truck while the bikers took whatever else they wanted.
     We pulled back to the other side of the hilltop and scouted for a place to fall back to. Aaron found an old logging/mining road that was overgrown and we pulled all the vehicles down it without making it too obvious by breaking branches or driving on the high center of the road where the grass was tallest. We got the vehicles circled, sentries posted both where our group was settling and back in the trees at the main road where we had pulled off. Everyone was fed and the children were put in the back of the vans with their back doors facing each other and had stories read to them quietly. The rest of us waited to see if they would pass our way down the highway or if they would go the way we were headed. We stayed as quiet as possible because we did not want to take the chance that sound would travel to where they could hear it and we did not make a fire because it would make us more visible what with the smoke and light through the trees.
     About an hour after we had gotten settled in we heard the group approaching on the main road. Everyone held their breath and kept the children quiet while they passed by, but still we did not leave. Who knew if they had scouts in front or behind their group, so we decided our best chance was to stay where we were for the rest of the 10th.
     We hadn't thought about live people going to that dark of a place this fast. I guess we had gotten luckier with the group we ended up with at the camp than any of us had thought. We might have gotten someone like one of those bikers and then where would we be? None of us said anything to the kids, but we knew what the fate of those women would be. For all we knew, the children could end up in the same situation as their mothers. They would be wishing they had not survived the crash before the night was over. That is the only thing I am certain about.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

From the journal of Correctional Officer Steven Williams, March 15

March 15, 2017

     It was a long day but it went better than I expected. She is a pretty good shot and today she proved it by going back to the school and practicing on undead moving targets. I thought she might have a problem with shooting them because she knew them and went to school with them before the pandemic started. But, she did not have any trouble shooting at the "Bod Squad" as she calls the popular girls clique. It was only when the priest came around the corner of the building after she had taken about 10 shots that she showed any emotions. After we left and came back to the church, she told me about Father Jameson and it made me wish I had a chance to meet home before all this happened. I grew up in a small town too and the priest at our local Catholic church was not as good at not judging his flock. I saw him snub families just because they were poor and could not contribute as much as he thought they should. The one time we had a member of the congregations sister and daughter at church. I remember him finding out that she was an unwed mother and he threw her out of the church social after the services. I think he might have thrown them out of the church itself, if he had found out before or during the services. At least Jenna and her grandparents did not have to deal with shallow priests like that.
     When I went to take care of the priest, Jenna freaked out and started yelling at me to stop. I had to explain where I was coming from. If I became undead, I hoped that someone would care enough to take me out. I asked her if she thought her family or Father Jameson would want to be undead, or if I had done the right thing for her grandparents and mother. I also asked her, if she became one of those creatures, if she would want someone to take care of her? She thought about it while I drove around the block and by the time we were back around to Father Jameson, she had decided that putting him out of his undead misery was the right thing to do. She ended up taking the shot herself and took out his brain in one shot. Damn, I was so proud of her. She didn't cry about it until we got back here, to the church.
     We were able to stay around the school long enough for her to get about 50 shots in. I had to explain to her the difference in aiming at moving targets, how you have to move with the target. The first moaner she shot at, it took her 5 shots to take it down. The next one only took 3 shots. Most of the moaners after that she took out, she did it in 2 shots or less. Father Jameson was the first one she took out in a single shot. After that, she took aim and fired without thinking about it and it made her aim better. I am really glad that she was so open to learning how to safely operate firearms. I drove a few blocks away from the school and got out a couple of the rifles I have. I had her practice with a 12 gauge shotgun and a .22 rifle that I have had since childhood. It took her only a moment to become a  great shot with the .22 rifle. She told me she loved shooting it because it was so accurate and had hardly any recoil. The shotgun, on the other hand, she did not enjoy as much. She said she was nervous about the spread and didn't want to carry one if case she had to shot something near me.
     When we got back to the church yesterday, there was moaner on the street in front. This is the first one I have seen in this town except for the ones at the school. Jenna said that most everyone was taken to the school, so there shouldn't be too many on this side of the train tracks. Then, this afternoon when we got back, there were two more on the street. We have been really careful about sound around here because I know that it draws them through personal experience. I wonder if they can smell us on the breeze and if they can, how do they know where to follow to find the live morsel they can smell? Is it the sound of my truck, coming and going the last few days, that has drawn them here? Do they have any reasoning skills left? Could they figure out which direction the smell was coming from? I am going to have to ask Jenna what she thinks. After all, she was able to see the group that ran her up the play structure for days. I wonder if she saw anything to help her answer some of these questions. I am also going to have to think about finding somewhere to observe the creatures to see if we can get answers to these questions.
     Jenna is already asleep because tomorrow will be another full day. I want to look around town to see if there is anything else worth taking with us. This is the country, so some of these house have  got to have firearms in them. And if not, maybe some ammunition. I better get some sleep. We will be leaving the day after tomorrow to continue on the way to the Dallas International Airport.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 15

March 15, 2017

     We have been staying at the church food bank in Brule for the last few days and I didn't have to hint about training me in how to use the guns, Williams suggested it himself.
     We have been here for four days, including today. I have been practicing with targets and how to clean one of his little pistols. I have gotten better at target practice so today Williams said we are going to go back to the school so I can try shooting at undead targets. He told me last night at dinner and I have been scared to go back, but he said we would stay in the truck. It's still really early, so I am going to write about this now so I can read it when we get back and see how reality compares with how I feel I will do.
     Williams spent yesterday afternoon filling some bags with sand from the church playground and using them to build a "nest", as he puts it, for me to shoot from. He is going to stay in the drivers seat in case we need to leave in a hurry. I am really nervous about shooting at people I used to know, even if they are undead moaners now. What will I do if I see Father Jameson? I don't think I could shoot him even if he is not himself anymore. He was always to nice to me.
      I hope when we get to the school the "Bod Squad" are still around. They made my life hell sometimes, so I would like a chance to shoot one of them now that they are undead moaners. Not that they didn't moan a lot before all this started. All they seemed o do was shop, put on makeup, make out with jocks, make fun of people and complain about everything!
     I am looking forward to getting better and better at shooting. I never thought I would say that. I was not into guns, hunting or even the outdoors before, well before. I actually like shooting at stuff. It makes me feel more confident in myself and feel like I can defend myself and Williams if I need to. We have been really care to go out a few miles for target practice so we don't draw them back to where we are staying. Last night was the first night that we saw a moaner near the church. Williams says it means that we will need to leave soon. I am just glad that the food was still here but it makes me think that no one at the school made it out. Everyone in town knew that for any emergency or disaster, the church food bank would be where the food was stored to send where it needs to go. So, if someone had made it out of the school alive, they would have had to come here to stock up on supplies. But it looks like no one has been here since the last time Father Jameson was here to get food for the people at the school. There was a fine dust on all the floors when we got here and no footprints in it at all. There was also some dust starting to show up on the tops of the cans, which would not have been allowed if the Father was still alive. It would have made him angry that no one was taking care of stuff, that is, if he could still feel anything but hungry. I didn't see him in the school cafeteria building when I was in there and he did not come out with the "Bod Squad" when I was running for my life. I hope that if he did die, or became undead, or whatever, I hope that it was fast and he didn't suffer.
     He was always nice to us, Gran, Pops and I. Unlike a lot of other people in town, he didn't treat me like I had the plague because my mother was not married and refused to name my father. Others acted like they were better than me, but not Father Jameson. I always  thought it shold have been the other way around. Father Jameson should have been the one with the issue about my being born out of wedlock. But he never treated me like I was dirt or gum under his shoe or like I should feel shame for how I was born. And because he always treated me fine, I didn't mine going to church and even helped Pops out with the gardening beds in front of the walkway. I liked digging in the dirt and it made me feel really good when I would hear the ladies telling Pops what a great job he had done.
     I am going to miss Pops and Gran a lot. I miss them both so bad. I have just been trying to not think about them, or what happened in their house. When I sleep, I go through it over and over. So I try to not think about it when I am awake. I wonder if Father Jameson would have told me I was being bad for not thinking about them. Or would he tell me it was my "coping mechanism" or some such psych talk? I hope he would not think less of me for needing to not think about it.
     Williams just called me for breakfast and then it is time to go shoot some zombies.



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.
   
   

Saturday, July 8, 2017

From the journal of Correctional Officer Steven Williams, March 11

March 11, 2017

    I haven't been able to write that last few days because I rescued a teenage girl while I was driving through Brule, Nebraska. When I saw her sitting at the top of the weird looking play structure, I felt like it was a chance to redeem myself, a little bit, for how I left the Detention Center. I feel very guilty for not trying to save the inmates. I might not have made it to more than one Pod and maybe I would have been killed. But, at least, I would have been able to say I tried if there is a Heaven.
     I was driving through this really small town and there she was. Surrounded by a large group of what she calls moaners. I drew them away with loud music and my truck. Once she was clear, she got down and ran in the opposite direction from where I had drawn the moaners. I flipped a bitch and picked her up. She told me her name is Jenna and that she lives, or lived, with her grandparents, so I drove her home.
     When we got there, I let her go in first because she said she was nervous her mother might be there and all drugged out. She wanted to check first and then warn me if needed. I heard her screaming and ran in behind her. She had found her grandfather in the living room and he was not longer the man who raised her. I had to shoot him in the head because he was moving towards her. The noise must have drawn her grandmother and mother from the kitchen area. The mother must have been the one who was infected and she came to her parents house. There was food all over the floor with the blood and little bits of insides. I had to shot both of them as well because they were going for the girl. She couldn't seem to stop screaming until she started throwing up. She had a complete break down and I feel bad, but I had to slap her to try to bring her back to herself. It didn't work right away.
      What could I do? Leave her there with her dead relatives? I decided it would be best to take her with me for now. Maybe we will luck out and find someone who will take her in.Hopefully, there will be someone before the Denver International Airport. If not, maybe we will find someone there. That is, if we make it there. We still have over 185 miles to cover and there are moaners (as Jenna calls them) all the way there. I think tomorrow is a good time to find out how much she knows about firearms. I have a 9 mm pistol that should work for her. It is a little easier for her to handle than the .357 Magnum that I carry. We shall have to see how receptive she is to some training.




As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 11

March 11, 2017

A.M.
     I can't believe that yesterday was real. It fees like I am still wrapped up in the sleeping bag, even while I am walking around. Gran is gone! Pops is gone! Mom is gone for good!
     I have wished a hundred times that Mom would leave and never come back. Especially when she was at her worst and all drugged out. But  not like this! I just wanted her to go away! I am on my own and I am only 15! I wouldn't even be here still if not for Williams. I lucked out when he found me because he doesn't seem like a bad person and hasn't tried to hurt me or anything. I didn't even think about it yesterday. I just followed his orders and went along like an idiot. I don't know him though and so I don't trust him, even though he was basically a cop. But what choice do I have? I am an unarmed buffet on legs without him! I guess I will have to stick with him for now. I am going to look for something to defend myself with. Just in case.
     Time to go.
P.M.
    I found a machete in a hardware store earlier today. It's better than what I ha before, which was nothing. I told Williams that we should try to hit a Walmart or sporting goods store to see if there are any hunting riffles or ammo left, but he said he doesn't think it's a good idea. I don't think he wants me to have a gun. I know that he has more than just the one pistol and shotgun he carries and h e has not even brought up teaching me to use one of them which makes me even more suspicious. I mean, if he offered, I might say no because I have never been around them. But he should offer to teach me for safety reasons. If something happens to him with a big group of walkers, I won't be able to help him because a machete will not do diddly squat (as Pops used to say) to a bunch of them at once. But, if I knew how to use one of the guns, I could at least help clear a path while he drives.
     I am going to hint tomorrow and see how Williams thinks about teaching me gun safety. I hope that I will not have to do anything more than hint, but if I have to, I will ask him outright.
     I think that this means so much to me right now because of what happened to Pops, Gran and Mom. I mean, if I had made it home on my own, I would be dead by now. Even if I had made it home the same day I left, I might still be dead. The way I reacted was not helpful to anyone but the moaners. I would have been a man-which for them all. There might not have been enough left for me to come back as one of those things!
      This also gives me something else to think about besides what I saw yesterday. What should I do now? Should I stay with Williams? I will be 16 in less than a month and I have no family left. The only person I know even a little, who I know is still alive, is Williams. And I don't know him really at all! If I don't keep moving with him, what will I do to survive? There is no way I could make it on my own! I have never even watched the most popular zombie shows! So I don't even have that little bit of T.V. knowledge to fall back on! All I know is my best chance to stay alive and as safe as possible is to stay with Williams. I will have to watch him carefully.



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 10



March 10, 2017

     After I stopped writing yesterday, I heard a truck coming down the street. I waved and screamed and finally got his attention. Turns out that he used to be a correctional officer in a detention center, not a jail. I don't know the difference, but it seems to matter to him what  I call it. So detention center it is.
     He drew the moaners away with some loud music and honking. When I was finally able to get down, he had me run down the block the opposite way he drew the moaners and picked me up down the block. Williams, he said to call him by his last name because that is what he is used to, then drove me home. I don't even know if I can write about what I saw.
     Mom must have come over the day I went to the school for food. She must have been infected before she went home because it looked like Gran had been in the middle of making Mom some food.
     Oh my God. It looked like she went after Pops first. He had bites all over his arms and face and neck. His favorite plaid shirt, the one I got him a few years ago for Christmas, was covered in blood and looked almost black. He was facing the fireplace in the corner when I walked in. I called his name and he  turned around. I almost didn't recognize him, his eye lids and cheeks were gone. Oh God, I screamed and screamed! Pops didn't even recognize me. He started coming for me and his teeth kept clicking together. Williams ran in and shot him in the head with a pistol. I kept screaming!
     The sound must have got Gran and Mom's attention. They shuffled in from the kitchen. Gran reminded me of Sue, her stomach was just gone ad I could see her spine. Oh God, she had bite marks all over her body! It looked like a dog had been at her leg. Skin and stuff was just hanging from her knee. I kept screaming and started gagging when I saw them. Mom didn't look like a Halloween prop like Gran did, she was just covered in blood and little meaty bits. Her face was blank, no recognition.
     I threw up everything in my stomach and Williams had to take care of both of them. I just gagged and screamed and cried. I couldn't stop even though I had snot running down my face and stomach acid coming out of my mouth. Williams slapped me at one point trying to calm me down, but it felt like hours before I could get my body and mind under control.
     Once I could focus on him, Williams said we had to leave because noise draws them from all around. I changed my clothes quickly and packed the big, old suitcase we always took to see my Gran's sisters. I've never had much, so it didn't take me long to pack up everything that meant anything to me. I felt like I was in a nightmare. The kind where no matter how fast you try to move, you just can't. Like you are moving through thick molasses. I left my room with the suitcase and when I walked into the living room, I almost passed out.
     I have never seen the house so gross. Ever. The living room looked the scene from a cheep zombie movie. Pops was laying in a puddle of black ooze with grey bits floating in it. The back of his head was gone. The kitchen looked like what it was. A murder scene, but no one was going to be punished for it. Blood, bits of skin and Gran's insides were everywhere. The floor looked like someone had painted it red and black. The eggs were broken on the floor by the center island and the stove burner was still on. Bread was soaking up some of the blood on the floor. I thought about how Gran would be having a fit if she were still alive and couldn't stop the sobs that pushed out of my body. I dropped the suitcase and gagged. I saw black spots start at the edges of my vision and Williams sat me down on the suitcase. I had to put my head between my knees so I didn't pass out and he told me to take deep breaths. But the smell of blood and puke made me feel like throwing up again. There wasn't nothing left in my stomach so I just had dry heaves.
     I know it wasn't as long as it felt to me, but Williams got me into the garage while he packed up any food left under the floor in my room and in the kitchen. It wasn't much and made me sad to think about how little there was worth taking. Once he had searched the house and was ready to leave, he brought the truck up to the garage and packed me, the suitcase and the one bag of food into the cab. I told him what Pops had said about the food bank and he decided we would head there before leaving town.
     I turned around in the truck and looked out the back window. I watched as the only home I have ever known disappeared around the corner. I still have not stopped crying and could not eat more than a bite of what Williams gave me to eat. He seems nice, but I will have to see. He rolled out a sleeping bag for me in the cab of the truck and he took the bed to sleep in. I feel like I will never sleep again.



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.




From the journal of Jenna Bless,March 9

From the journal of Jenna Bless, a teenager who was rescued by CO Williams in Brule, Nebraska.

March 9, 2017

     I have been stuck up in this stupid play structure for three days now. If I didn't come to get supplies and manage to get food and water, I would be dead by now. Luckily, even though the school was overrun, I still got into the cafeteria and got a backpack full of food and bottled waters. I am also lucky that the local artist who designed this play structure wanted it to resemble an atom. A small wooden play structure like we used to have wouldn't have been tall enough for me to be out of the moaners reach.
zombie play structure
     I hope my Gran and Pops are still o.k. I didn't plan on being gone this long. I also hope that Mom has stayed away because she only causes problems every time she shows up. She likes to come over and eat all our food from the church food bank. I wish, just once, that she would bring us something to eat, even if she has to steal it first.
     The last time she came over, she brought some of her tweaked out "friends" and they stole my baby sitting money. I had been saving for almost two years to get a moped when I turn 16. That way, I could get a real job with a steady paycheck to help out around home. I was looking forward to being able to buy my own clothes for school next year, too. I mean, the clothes would have still been second hand, but I was looking forward to paying for them with my own money. Gran and Pops don't get a lot from Social Security and I get even less than they do from the government. Most months, we barely squeak by. Bill juggling is becoming my teenage super power!
     I was always wishing for more time to sit and do nothing, but being up in this play thingy is so boring. Sitting here, listening to my former schoolmates moan and watching them trying to reach up to where I am sitting. I almost brought a book, but decided not to because I could get more food and water in my backpack without one. I knew that food was going to start becoming an issue soon. All the local stores have been looted already, so the school was the last supposedly safe place to get food from someone willing to hand it out. This would have been a good idea, if it had not been overrun or if the moaners were not loose.
     I should have taken Pops advice and tried the church food bank first. He said it would be safer because it was not declared an emergency evacuation center and Pops thought that the priest said he was going to slowly bring the food to the school. I guess it would have been smarter to go there instead.
     How was I supposed to know that everyone here would already be dead, or undead or whatever. I thought it would be just like last time. Four days ago, I came to the school and Mr. Janson gave me a backpack of food. But when I got here, it had already happened. I wonder what went wrong? If Gran was not still under treatment for cancer when this all began, we would probably have been here too!
     I am really glad that I told Pops about the food I have been hiding under my loose floorboards. I have been putting a little bit of food in there for months. Always the stuff that would be good for a really long time. That way, if Mom came and cleaned us out again, we would still have food to eat. About six months ago, she had done that and it was Friday night. The food bank was not open until Monday. We were really hungry by Sunday and Pops had to ask Father Jameson for food at church on Sunday. It was really embarrassing for him. He is so proud and to have to explain to Father Jameson what happened to the food we had just been given was really hard on him.
     I am a little surprised that Pops hasn't shown up here in his old Toyota truck to find me. I wish he would show up soon. I am tired of being up in this thing.
     I can see that the "Bod Squad" were all here when whatever went down happened. No longer so beautiful girls, blood has a way of ruining even the trendiest clothes. Wendy looks like a chew toy for a giant dog. Her throat is mostly gone which makes her moan more of a tea kettle style hissing. Sue's stomach is missing. Not like she got skinnier, but like someone took a chunk out of her belly. Her guts are wrapped around the legs of all the moaners that followed me out here. Beth is missing her lower legs except for some bones. She can't even walk, she just crawled after me and the other moaners and is now on the ground under the play structure trying to climb the ropes. Guess it's a good thing that these moaners can't climb.
     I hate to have to eat more of the food that I came here to get for us to eat. If I can find a way to get down, I will have to try to go back to the cafeteria to get more food before going home. If that is not safe, I will try the church food bank. I wonder if Father Jameson was here? 



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.





Saturday, July 1, 2017

From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 7

March 7, 2017

     This morning we awoke to rain and overcast skies. Guess it was a good thing we slept in the vehicles, anyway there have been too may of the roamers around to safely sleep in tents. We made shifts for the sentries to keep an eye out for any coming into our secured area. We had all agreed it would be best to avoid using the guns, if at all possible. Quieter methods to dispose of the ones who did find themselves too close to our camp were preferred. We have a machete, hunting knives, a bat, and a tire iron which are our first line of defense. We also agreed that if too many came at us at once, we would head out instead of using the guns. Sound has been shown to draw them from the surrounding areas, so it is best to keep as quiet as possible.
     When our group drove into Bailey, we saw a sign for the location of the local FEMA Camp. We decided it might be a good idea to stop and see if we could get any additional supplies. But we found the camp overrun and everyone dead, or undead. The sound of our vehicles drew a large group of the roamers out the open front gates and Aaron decided it was not worth stopping. Too much risk for too little sure reward. We had no idea what supplies were left in the camp. For all we knew, someone else might have stopped for supplies and left the gate wide open, freeing the roamers.
    This happening in the small community of Bailey, with low population made us reconsider driving through Denver to get to the airport. Once we had stopped for the day, all the adults sat down to discus the plan. Jonathan, our FEMA Camp administrator, tried to take charge, but no one has looked to him as our leader since we had to flee the camp. We all ignored his attempts to get all of our attention and we congregated around Linda and Aaron.
     Linda got everyone to sit and brought up what had happened earlier in the day. Aaron took over and started us thinking about how many emergency shelters there would have to be in Denver for the amount of people who lived there.
     Maps were pulled out for the Denver area, thank you deserted Bailey gas station, and we decided to skirt the main city of Denver. We would go through the surrounding area of around five cities or towns and have to make multiple freeway changes to get to Pena Blvd and the Denver International Airport. Taking on the much smaller populations that would be spread out would be easier for our group to handle. It would be quieter and better for us to drive a little further than to take the risk of being stopped by the larger groups of roamers that must be traveling around the streets of Denver.
     Jonathan started complaining about the entire plan, saying we should be going away from the main cities and more populated areas, not towards them. Again, he was ignored and the discussion continued around him like a stream parting for an unwanted stone. He stormed off into the trees around the field we had made camp in between Bailey and Conifer. He was having a hard time realizing that he was not the best person to lead our group any longer. The sooner he realizes this, the better off we will all be.
     Everyone but the sentries went to bed early so we can leave a first light and try to cover more distance tomorrow. It is slower going than any of us thought because of the need to scavenge for supplies and avoid as many roamers as possible. Hopefully, we can go a little faster tomorrow. Maybe Bailey was the centrally located evacuation point for the area we would be driving through.



As a writer and artist, I appreciate any readers and their comments. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog. Please, come read the other blog I write for our artisan collective, Raven's Castle Creations, on our website at www.ravencastlecreations.com. It includes posts on art, the mythology of symbols we use in our art, history and more! Also, come see the art we produce in our Etsy store at etsy.com/shop/RavenCastleCreations. Follow us on Twitter at @ravencastleart and on Facebook at @ravencastlecreations.