From the journal of James Cohen, April 9

April 9, 2017
     I think that it is the 9th, but am not sure because I have been so sick. I thought I was going to die yesterday when I couldn't breathe without feeling like wet cotton was stopping the air in my lungs, but I am still here. I have spent most of my days lying in the bed in our cab. I found myself talking out loud to Dorris yesterday in my crazy state before I remembered that she was already gone. I have not been able to keep any food or much water down since she bit me and don't reall care. At this point, I just want to be with her again, even if it means that I am dead, too.
    My hand is huge, purple, and oozing this yellow, thick mucus like stuff. It smells like a dead animal so badly that it makes me want to puke just from the smell, so I have had to keep the windows cracked for fresh air. I have this pain that seems to pulse from my hand all the way to my head with every heart beat. I hope I don't last too much longer, it is hell right now.  The fever reducer I had gotten for Dorris hasn't done anything for my fever and I just shiver and shake from how high it is. I can hardly sleep because I have to sit up or I can't breath. This sucks especially because I know what the outcome is going to be. I should just take care of myself, but can't  find the energy to find something to do it with. It would take too much effort to even crawl into the front right now, let alone trying to get the glove box open to get the pistol with my dominate hand swollen so huge that I can't close my fingers.
     I have been going in and out of being awake. When I am out, I dream about our life together and it hurts every time I wake up because I remember that Dorris is gone and I am alone. When the world first went to shit, it was ok because we were together. But I don't want to be here without her. Why did you have to leave me, Dorris? I miss you already.

     Poor Tricksy has been having to use the cab for her bathroom and it is starting to smell enough that I can smell it over my hand. I guess I should just let her go, so she can have a chance to survive. But she is so small, I don't think she would make it on her own, which makes me sad because we have had her since she was a puppy. Her death will be another failure that I have had since this all started.
   

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