From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, July 25

July 25, 2017

     Yesterday, while going through the stuff left from Charlie's group, I found a journal kept by Carla. It was fascinating reading. It started back in 2016 and was a normal journal for a year, with sporadic entries about regular life stuff. Movies she'd seen, dates she went on. Turns out Irene was her half sister and there were entries about going to her house for birthday parties for Mason, Faith and another child that wasn't with them any longer, Hope.

Picture of Carla found in her journal

     I skimmed through the entries before the pandemic, just to see if she was normal, or if she was already showing signs of mental illness. From her entries, she was just a normal, thirty-something, secretary, living paycheck to paycheck. Charlie and Irene were married and threw parties where they tried to set Carla up with some of their friends, raised their kids and lived their suburban lives.

     After the pandemic, everything changed. Carla wrote that Charlie had always had possessive tendencies and was a conspiracy buff, but as soon as the news reported that the dead were rising, he went straight to survivalist. He unlocked the gun safe that no one else had been in before and pulled out a arsenal. He left the house and came back with a Humvee pulling a loaded, enclosed trailer full of supplies from a storage unit Irene knew nothing about. He made them all pack clothes, food and anything else he thought might be useful and then loaded them into the Humvee and headed to his grandfathers cabin in the mountains.

     Hope died on the way to the cabin when they were surrounded by a small horde of undead at a corner store they had stopped to search. Shortly after that, they ran into a group of seven, a family of four, two twenty-something college students and a retired doctor. They traveled with them for a couple of weeks before food started to become sparse and Charlie started telling Irene and Carla that they were holding food back from their family and they were going to take out Charlie and the others for whatever they had. He pushed them and pushed them that they needed to take out the others first, before it was too late. Eventually, he convinced them and they ended up ambushing the family and the college students, but tried to keep the doctor alive. He killed himself shortly afterward to escape from Charlie and his small group.

     After that, it became their habit to join a small group for a few days, then kill them for their supplies. With each one they took out, the journal became darker and less human, more evil and self serving. Charlie had spent hours each day preaching at them about how this pandemic was God's punishment for the sinners and it was their duty to help him take out the sinners who were still alive. The zombies were the righteous and some day soon, when Charlie felt they had sacrificed enough people to God, they would join the righteous undead and continue doing God's work. He pounded it into their heads and kept them as isolated from others as he could, unless they were trying to fool a group into accepting them.

     Our group was just one more in a long line of groups they'd tried to “join” and were planning on killing. They just didn't know how many people we have. They only saw a few of us and assumed that we were all there was in the compound. If they had managed to take our little group out, they would've been really surprised how many people they would've been up against.

     Reading Carla's journal made me feel that we had no choice about executing them. They wouldn't have stopped and lots of other people would've suffered because of them. Sad, to read her journal was to read the disintegration of a human being into a mindless, psychopath. Sad.

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 Nikki Feather, July 2

July 2, 2017

    We should reach the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in the next few days. It's been an interesting ride. We're in Eastern Idaho and continuing South East, maybe to Colorado. We're not sure where exactly we're heading, but we hope to find a place to stay, hopefully with other people. Just having the two of us travelling together has been better than being by myself in the tower, but still not the safest. Now, safety really is in numbers and I think the minimum that we're looking for is four others to join us.

     It's so hard to find people to survive with now. First off, we haven't seen any other live people since everyone left town before the horde and I ran into Jackson. We've been looking, too, both half hopeful and half afraid. Hopeful to find anyone still alive and not crazy. Afraid because there's no guarantee that people haven't gone to that 'Mad Max' place and are more like mutant bikers.

     We might not have seen anyone, but we've see evidence of them. People hung at crossroads, the women usually naked and obviously had been raped. Men lined up and shot execution style while no females are left dead. The occasional female zombie, stumbling along, naked, and covered in their own blood, more than likely having died from their treatment. Sometimes we've seen women tied to trees or in cars, one time, we found a naked female zombie tied up in the trunk of a police car.

     We even found the scene of two groups that had fought it out to the death. Both groups were hiding behind cars and facing each other and there were guns laying beside all the bodies, right where they'd fallen. We searched through all their stuff and found some food, knives, and of course the guns. It looked like they were fighting over an RV of women, and someone had decided that if they were all dying, so were the women, since the RV was shot all to hell. I vetoed going through the RV, there was puddles of blood that had run out of it, long, blood soaked blonde hair stuck out from under the door and I didn't want to see what was left of the women in there.

     Yesterday afternoon, we were looking for a place to stay when we found this cool stone house, I guess you might call it a villa. The place was huge and empty. We went in like we were going to find a group of undead in the house, but cleared it without finding anyone or anything. It had this round room at one end and it had stairs on the outside, great for easy viewing but not so great to defend from a horde of undead. I spent time up there, watching the stars and eventually, Jackson joined me. He'd found a telescope and we spent a couple of hours looking at the stars. For a small time, I was able to forget about the pandemic, the zombies and everything.

     Then, about midnight, we both heard a zombie start moaning. When I looked over the side, there was one straggler that must've heard us talking, since we weren't trying to be quiet. We headed down and took it out, then headed to be. It'd been nice to do something normal for a few hours, but now it was back to reality.

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 Nikki Feather, June 28

June 28, 2017

     We woke up yesterday morning to pounding rain with lightning and thunder. Within a half hour of us checking outside, it was hailing and we decided to stay here for the morning. We thought, it we're lucky, it'll let up by afternoon and we can still get a couple of hours driving in. But it didn't let up. It's still raining and we're still here.

     I got so bored this morning, I went exploring around the house. It's still really solid, no leaks, even in the attic. I was able to go through all the rooms, even the attic. The rooms upstairs were as empty as the ones downstairs, except for the table with one chair. The windows are mostly still whole, and the stairs and floors are still solid. I was enjoying looking at the old fashioned wall paper in the bedrooms and the old claw foot tub in the bathroom. Then, I found the door to the attic.

     I yelled downstairs, to Jackson, that I was going into the attic and then made my way up the stairs behind the door. It was really dark and my flashlight barely cut through the dusty air. But it did show a small beam of what was in there. I could see lots of old furniture and some trunks. I decided to go get the lantern we had and light up more of the attic.

     When I got downstairs, Jackson was reading one of the other mystery books we'd found but when I told him what I'd seen in the attic so far, he put it down and went back upstairs with me and two lanterns. We spent hours going through the cool stuff in the attic. There is a ton of old furniture, and we took a couple of the wing back chairs downstairs to sit in. Since we're stuck in the house, we might as well be comfortable while we're here.

     I found a stack of trunks and had a ball going through them. There were old clothes, like from the late 1800's on. I found this really old style women's underwear, I think the bottoms were called pantaloons, or something like that. There were a few corsets and some petticoats. In one of the other trunks, there was this cool fringed flapper dress with a moth eaten fur jacket. The dress is bright cherry red and still holding together really well. I put it in one of my bags. There won't be a lot of chances to wear it, but just having it and knowing it's there makes me happy.

     Jackson found this gentlemen's suit from the same time as the corsets and he put it on for fun. I refused to put all the clothes on to go with it, but I did find this cool 40's style cocktail dress and put that on. It's peacock blue and is strapless. We ate our lunch in our fancy clothes and then changed back into our clothes before looking outside. It was still pouring and the clouds went as far as the eye could see. The rain was not going to let up any time soon.

     We went back to the attic and spent another couple of hours exploring and trying on the clothes we found from the different era's. By mid afternoon, we were both tired and covered in dust and cobwebs. We went back downstairs, used some of our water to clean up and changed into clean clothes. Then, we both settled down and read our scary book out loud to each other for a few hours. The sound of the rain on the roof was hypnotic and we both dozed off early.

     It's now been another full day of playing in the attic, napping and reading out loud. Hopefully, the rain will let up soon, but until it does, I've decided this place isn't so bad after all. We've brought a few other pieces of furniture downstairs and have our room set up pretty comfortably. We're safe, dry and there's no undead around that we've found. Not too shabby, indeed.

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 Earl Thompson, June 20

June 20, 2017

     Moshannon State Forest is beautiful. We got there yesterday and spent hours driving around the forest, weaving through the trees and driving through creeks. We finally found a place that has rock walls on both sides of us and we secured the ends with spears we'd brought with us, so nothing could get in. Then, we set up camp for the night.

     Today, we found the cabins and concession stand. We've decided to stay in one of them tonight. And since we haven't seen anyone, alive or undead, I'm going to explore a little. I found a map of the State Forest and there are some neat things here that I'd like to see. Come to think of it, I should ask the others if there was anything any of them have always wanted to see along the way to the Greenbrier. We can't go into the cities, but there are some battlefields and other historic properties along the way.

     Our plan was to go from State Forest to State Forest all the way, until we're close to the Greenbrier. We planned it that way because we can skirt the larger cities and towns and even skip some of the back roads by driving through the forests. We just have to be careful of natural obstacles like trees, streams, rivers and cliffs. But, I think we can work our way around, and some of the forests have roads through them, which will make it easier.

     The girls, Annie and Lisa, are getting bored with being in the woods. They're used to being in the city and I know they miss what used to be. This morning, Lisa was complaining about the instant oatmeal and telling Annie about her favorite restaurant. She used to get strawberry Belgian waffles with freshly made whipped cream. She went on and one about their coffee and their burgers, until Phil finally told her to shut up about it. I'm glad he stopped her. I know none of us are happy with the food we have, but there's no refrigeration or freezers still working, at least, that we've found. So canned and dried foods are all there are left that are safe to eat.

     I know I miss a lot of stuff from life before this shit started. I miss being able to get anything I wanted to eat at any time of the day or night. You want Chinese? No problem. You want Thai food? No problem. Burgers? Waffles? No problem. There was this little Italian place, not four blocks from my flat, and they had the best Chicken Parmesan. It just melted in your mouth and just thinking of it makes my mouth water.

     Now, the closest we can get is the MRE that says it Chicken pasta with vegetables. I think we have some chicken soup, too. But food is for survival now, not for real enjoyment. Maybe, once we're settled at the Greenbrier, we can scavenge around and find some chickens and food to grow. We'll have to. Canned food is only good for a couple of years and eventually, the dehydrated foods will run out. We'll have to plant crops and find farm animals to raise. That's going to take people, and I mean, lots of people. The four of us won't be enough to clear enough land, plant the crops, keep us secure and all the other things that will need to done to survive.

     I hope there are other people already there, and it would be great if they'd already started thinking about the future. If not, I don't know how we'll make it. We can live on the supplies that are supposedly in the bunker, if they're still there. But they'll get eaten or spoil eventually, and without other people, it's going to be really hard to grow enough food to keep going.

     Hopefully, if there are people there, they're still human and not evil mutant bikers. We've already experienced that one and don't ever need to deal with them 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 John Archer, the Archivist, July 23

July 23, 2017

     We had groups out taking care of any undead drawn by the noise from the gunfight last night. There haven't been many, since our area wasn't heavily populated to begin with. Everyone was in agreement, Charlie's group will die by firing squad. We've decided to give them a meal and then execute them around noon.

     I went with the group that told Charlie and his group, about 10 am. They had been secured with their hands tied in front of them, and locked in the pantry all night. Well, since we'd captured them anyway. And boy, was Charlie furious when we let them out, under armed guard. We took them all to the living room, then one by one, we escorted them to the bathroom.   

     Once they were done, we sat them all down and Aaron explained what had been decided. Charlie exploded and tried to take some of the guards down, but they had tasers and he was the one who hit the floor, instead. As soon as he was down, Irene and Carla had to be restrained by Gary and Steve as they screamed obscenities at us and tried to kick anything that got close enough. The younger ones, Mason and Faith, both just shrugged and said “What's the point?”, they knew they weren't getting away. Charlie lay on the floor, twitching, covered by two guards while Gary and Steve held onto the women until they started to wind down. It takes a lot of energy to throw that big of a fit.

      Once they stopped fighting and just stood there, huffing and puffing, they were sat back down and Charlie was pulled up and put back on the couch, too. Then, Aaron continued telling them they would be fed and then they'd be brought out and the execution would be around noon. Charlie started to try to stand up, but was still weak from being tased earlier, and Gary just pushed him back to the couch.

     Amanda and her people arrived with their last meal and brought it in. They were given spoons to eat with and we all stayed with them until it was time to go. We tied them together and marched them out of the house and lined them up against the wall of the garage. Gary, Steve, Williams, and several others all lined up with their rifles and before Charlie could rile his people up enough to try to attack again, they aimed and fired. It was over and it was a relief, They weren't trustworthy and Charlie was crazy. The others just followed his lead, like he was their cult leader. They were dangerous and they had to be killed.

     I never believed in the death penalty before the pandemic, but I also didn't believe in just imprisoning someone for years, either. But now, there is just no other option. We can't waste the resources to hold someone prisoner and we can't let them go. They could find others and bring them back to attack us. We can't take the risk, either way. We did the only thing we could do.

     I thought I would feel worse about them dying, but I had thought about it last night. If there had been fewer of us, or if we hadn't been as well organized and had posted guards, we could be dead and they would have our supplies. How many other groups had they done this to? How many people like us, who were just trying to get by, survive, and rebuilt out own little corner of civilization? How many others would they have done it to, if we had let them leave? No, they had to die and it didn't make me feel like a bad person to know it was the right thing to do.

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 recovered journal of the Battle of the New Alamo, June 13

June 13, 2017

     I've been so lonely. It's been two weeks since I've written because there's been nothing to write about. Just the same day over and over again. Just me watching the zombies going over the walls in singles and small groups. Me, packing some supplies in the bags I found in the office. Me, reading between watching the zombies. Sleeping, eating, watching, packing and reading. So lonely and boring.

     Then today, I heard the sound of loud mariachi music coming from outside the walls. I hurried to the bell tower area and climbed up the wooden ladder. There, outside the walls, there were several cars with the doors open and the music pumping. I didn't see anyone alive, but had to assume they'd been there to set up the cars and the music.

     The thought of other people, out there, still alive, got me so excited and I decided to grab some supplies and stay in the tower until they came back. I decided that before I climbed down, I needed to take another look around. I saw that larger groups of undead were going over the walls and the ones already outside the fort were packing in around the cars, all reaching over each other and moaning at the sound of the music. At the rate they were leaving, this place could be clear in a day or so.

     I climbed down and spent an hour or so getting what I might need for the next few hours. I even grabbed a sleeping bag so I could be more comfortable and made the two trips up and down the ladder to get what I had into the tower. I set myself up and settled in with my binoculars to wait.

     Hours passed and I passed the time by using my binoculars to look around. The zombies closest to the cars were being squished by all the ones pushing from behind them. They were turning into a black smear on the side of the car and then turned into zombie jelly under the feet of the undead pushing towards the car. I got bored watching the zombie jelly show and decided to look around at all the rooftops I could see. That's when I saw another person watching from the roof of a neighboring building. He was set up like I was, with supplies and a sleeping bag for something to sit on. I knew he'd seen me, so I kept my binoculars on him and stood up to wave. He waved back and started talking into a walkie talkie he pulled from his utility belt. I assume he was contacting the rest of his group and letting them know there was someone alive in the Alamo.

     More hours passed, and then suddenly, the music shut off and farther down the road, a new set of loud music started. They were drawing the undead away. Brilliant! They would have to do it a couple more times to get enough of the zombies out of the fort. But, it was going to work. Now, I had to figure out what I was going to do. Do I wait for the group to come in and try to join them? Or, do I try to go over the wall away from where they were drawing all the zombies over the wall? Should I avoid them, in case they turned out to be bad people? Or do I take the chance on them being decent people still?

     I'm going to have to watch them when they come to reset the whole 'music as a decoy' deal. I need to really pay attention to the people who show up. Are they only men? All only one color? Do they get along with each other? What does their appearance look like? Are their clothes dirty or are they dirty? I'm the only one who survived this place and all the insanity that happened here. I should be able to tell if the people out there seem like good people, or if they're evil. Hopefully I can tell, anyway. I really don't want to stay here alone, or try to survive out there all on my own. In this world, safety is in numbers, and one is not enough. Besides, it's lonely and I'm tired of being lonely.

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 Correctional Officer Steven Williams, July 22

July 22, 2017

     Last night was a nightmare. At dusk, we started out plan by lobbing smoke bombs through a bunch of windows and let the house fill with smoke. We let them think we were just using the smoke to move our positions and repeated the smoke bombs about every hour until midnight. Then we stopped and seemed to settle down for the night. Around 2 am, we put the rest of our plan in action. We lobbed smoke bombs, tear gas and then, once visibility was obscured, we used percussion grenades to confuse their senses.

     Right after the percussion grenades, we went in as a coordinated team, wearing our gas masks, moving in pairs and sweeping each room as we went. Gary and I went after Charlies last known position and found him retching on the kitchen floor. We quickly subdued and secured him. Once the others were also cuffed and subdued, we dragged them all out to the yard where lights had been set up and the air was fresher.

     Charlie started yelling curses and vulgar phrases as soon as he stopped throwing up. He refused to stop and just yelled louder when he was told to shut up. Finally, Gary grabbed the duct tape and I helped to secure his mouth closed. Finally, quiet.

     The others of his group, Irene, Carla, Mason and Faith, just stared ahead and stayed silent. They wouldn't even acknowledge that we were there or that they were there and in the position they were in. We tried to talk to them, reason with them. Nothing. We tried separating Charlie from the rest of them, but they still refused to respond to any of us. Finally, we stopped trying to talk to them and moved them into the living room under guard while we stayed in the yard to decide what to do with them. There really was no option other than killing them. Now we had to decide how.

     We secured them for the night in the pantry, which only had the one door and no windows, with a large number of guards and decided to call a meeting of any of our community that was interested in what had happened. This was too big a decision to make without input from other people in our group. When the meeting came, there were more people present then I'd expected and I was glad to see people were interested in the well being of our community.

     Linda and Aaron called the meeting to order and explained everything that'd happened. Then Gary stood up and explained why we couldn't let them go and I explained why we couldn't keep them secured for any significant period of time. Both of those options had too many things that could go wrong and we explored as many of them as we could think of. Then we came to the main point. If we were going to have to kill them and any others who we rejected through the interview process, how were we going to do it. Do we shoot them, hang them, cut their heads off? Who was going to do the killing?

     The discussion went on for hours. People came and said their piece, some stayed and some left. Others of our group heard what was being decided and joined the meeting. It became heated at times, with Carol S even saying we needed to vote on whether we would use the death penalty before we could say they had to die. Luckily, everyone else saw that we couldn't do anything but take them out and she was quickly overruled. Finally, hours after the meeting started, it was decided to have a vote after dinner and all the adults, including Jenna, Sean and their age group, could vote on the method and suggest how we decide who would carry out the sentence. Tomorrow, we will know who is chosen and whatever penalty is decided will be carried out. When they executed prisoners in the jail system I worked in before the pandemic, they used to say “May God have mercy on your souls”. But, if there is a God, I don't know if I want him to have mercy on these people. They came to our home and stayed under our roof and tried to kill us. May they burn in Hell forever is more how I feel about it. God forgive me.

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 Correctional Officer Steven Williams, July 21

July 21, 2017

     It finally happened. We had to decide what to do with a small group of people we rejected for membership in our community. Since we started getting survivors showing up on our doorstep, we've taken in 22 people. We'd been on a winning streak when it came to the people who came to us. But yesterday, we had a group of five people come to the gate to. They seemed like normal people, a man, two women, a teenage boy and pre-teen girl. They were dressed in dirty clothes, but they were not torn or in bad repair, just dirty from traveling.

     We took them to the transitional house outside the current wall that we use for new people just starting the interview process. We'll have to choose a different house, just outside the new, larger wall when it's done. This group made it obvious to all of us that we have to keep new people outside our community until we've decided if they can join us or not.

     Linda, Aaron and I got them settled in and a meal in their stomachs, then we explained the rest of the process. They were to rest tonight, and then tomorrow the committee for new members will meet with all of them and start the interviews. The interviews usually take about a week to complete and then the decision takes a day or two to make. Charlie, the man, said they understood and were happy to cooperate in any way. The two women, Irene and Carla, didn't say a word and neither did the two younger people, Mason and Faith. But it didn't seem odd, since I assumed they were tired and Charlie was their leader.

     We left them for the night, but put guards on the front and back doors. While we will take a chance and take people in after our process, we're not stupid and don't trust anyone at first. It wasn't even twenty minutes after that, Charlie was spotted checking out both exits and was not happy they were guarded. Gary saw him obviously cursing while he looked out the back window next to the door. Strike one.

     This morning, Linda, Aaron, John Archer, Gary and I went over to the house. We had breakfast from Amanda and her crew and had a bag of clean clothes in a variety of sizes. Every other time we had done this with people, they were glad to see us and thankful for the food and clothes. But Charlie met us at the front door and wouldn't move from the doorway to let us in. Archer had to talk to him for a half hour before we were allowed into our transitional house. And it went down hill from there.

Charlie's group- found in a backpack

     Within five minutes, he was telling us to leave the food and clothes and get out. I pointed out that he was in our house, at our behest, and if anyone was leaving, it would be them. Irene, jumped up and started talking really fast about how “they were sorry, it was just the stress of being out there”. Charlie struggled but did finally get himself under control and we all sat down and their people ate the food. Then, Linda got the clothes out and we had Daniel, from the construction crew, bring a generator and turn on the water pump and the power to the water heater and bathroom. They took turns taking showers, with Charlie going first and Faith going last. They took the whole bag of clothes to the master bedroom, so they could get clean clothes that fit, they said. I knew we'd never see the bag again.

     When the showers were done and it was time to start the individual interviews, Charlie flipped out again, refusing to let us separate them for interviews. He demanded that he be the only one asked questions and only in the room with everyone in it. We went around and around with him, for a couple of hours. Finally, Gary called a halt to it and we told them to rest for a couple of hours, and we'd be back to talk again.

     We went back to out compound and straight to our meeting room. It only took five minutes for us all to know there was no way these people could be let into our group. But what to do with them? We couldn't just let them go. They know where we are and could bring another group after us. We couldn't keep them locked up for long, it's a waste of resources. That left killing them. I think we all knew that's what we'd have to do with rejected people or groups, but none of us had said it out loud until three days ago.

     We called together a larger team and made sure everyone was experienced and well armed. Gary and I both had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. Boy, were we right.

     Only an hour had passed when our guards were under fire and calling for backup. We jumped up and ran to the trucks, rushing out of the wall and to the transitional house. Thank God we had set up the cover positions for our guards, they were pinned down, but safe from being hit. We parked the trucks behind the non attached garage, then we moved into our positions, surrounding the house and taking the planned positions while providing cover fire for each other.

     Once everyone was in position, I yelled out for Charlie to cease firing long enough to talk to me. They stopped firing but Charlie yelled back that if anyone moved, they'd shoot. We yelled back and forth for hours, with occasional periods of gunfire, mostly from Charlie and his group. There were five people shooting from different windows, so all of them were with Charlie. We had discussed giving Mason and Faith a chance, if we could convince them they were better off, but now we knew no one was worth saving.

     By early afternoon, the committee made our way to behind the garage to hold a meeting. We decided to bring in more of our people and up the ante. Smoke bombs, tear gas, and percussion grenades to start and after dark, an all our assault. The house didn't matter, taking out this group now entrenched so close to us was all that matters.

     It's time for me to stop writing so we can put our plan in action. God, keep us safe and let us protect our people.

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 letter from Mary Conte, May 3

From the note found by Manny Stone in the slaughtered community. The letter was found on the floor of the kitchen of the second house they looked in. It was covered in jam or something similar, at least, it had been when it had been thrown on the floor. Whoever had trashed the place had broken all the jars of food that had been in the cabinets, a waste, in this day and age.

May 3, 2017

     My name is Mary Conte and I'm going to die really soon. I can hear the screams of the sicko's who attacked our community, Charity Springs, as well as the screams of their victims. I think I'm going to kill myself when they break in here. So if this letter just stops, you know why.

Our community has been living in peace and has even helped a couple of groups that were just traveling through. If they'd wanted to stay, we would've welcomed them in and they would have become part of us. We've been really lucky that another group like the one here now, killing everyone, hadn't shown up sooner.

     They showed up at our gate yesterday morning. All of them dressed in black, heavy on the leather, with their faces painted like skeletons, although, some of them had masks. The women were dressed just like the men and there was no way to tell them apart. They had guns, swords and axes, all out in plain sight. They were screaming and throwing rocks to get our attention and when they saw people gathering at the gate, they demanded our surrender. Their leader, a giant man with long black hair, and a huge beard. He said if we gave up, some of us would live. Not all of us, but some of us. He gave us two hours to make up our minds.

     We held a meeting and Jason Janson, our mayor, chaired it. We discussed our options and I urged everyone to try to run or give up, because we were no match for the psycho's out front. But everyone else wanted to fight and felt secure behind our walls. Stupid jackasses.

     Janson was at the gate at the appointed time and announced our decision, and before he'd even finished, his head was blown off. When I turned to look at the group, the leader was standing there, holding a smoking sawed off shotgun with a huge grin on his face. He walked back to his car and honked the horn three times. The next thing I heard was a huge explosion at the back of the community and then the sound of huge engines straining over something. I turned on my perch and used the binoculars to look and saw a tank and two tractors repeatedly running over the now blown up section of wall, pushing the debris around so the waiting four wheel drive vehicles would be able to get over the downed section. It only took them an hour to breach our walls and get their people inside.

     The people who had been at the gates drove around and joined their comrades and they all came inside the walls. I watched them from the upstairs bedroom in my house for a while, but as soon as they got halfway through the houses, I stopped looking and have stayed away from the windows since. I can hear how close they've gotten from the screams and have silently cheered the occasional single gunshots I hear. I know that someone else managed to kill themselves and denied the madmen the pleasure of killing them.

The Matthews

     I don't want to let them get me, their really sick. They hacked the Matthews family up into little tiny pieces, one by one, starting with the wife, then the kids and finally the husband. They made him watch his family being slaughtered and for every sound he made, they tortured his family worse. At least, they didn't rape Mrs Matthews. Linda Buckles wasn't so lucky. She was held down at one of the intersections and any passing madman could take a turn. She only lasted about an hour before she died from what they did to her. And she wasn't the only one.

     No way am I letting them take me. I have my pistol in my lap and have locked myself in my attic. It should give me a couple of minutes longer to write. They are a couple of streets away and the gunshots are getting more often, the screams still loud individually, but less of them than when they first got in.

     I just took a chance and peeked out the tiny window up here and saw my neighbors, Richard and Nina Brooks, through their bedroom window. I watched them embrace, kiss and then both of them put a pistol in their mouths and pulled the triggers together, right as one of the people in black broke through their bedroom door.

     I'm pretty sure I just heard my door being kicked in and have only a few moments left. If you find this, know that these people can't be reasoned with. Kill them on sight. Keep safe, stay strong, and survive.

Mary Conte

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 Manny Stone, July 3

July 3, 2017

     We pulled up to walls today, cobbled together with whatever they could find. Walls that went on for what seems like miles in either direction. Kinda like that scene in the movie 'Labyrinth', when the girl first gets to the labyrinth and it seem to just go on and on for miles in a straight line. Well, that's what it resembled. I stopped well back from the only gate we could see and we waited to see if anyone noticed our truck. We sat there for a good thirty minutes and no one came to greet or threaten us. I suggested we honk the horn and see what happened and everyone else agreed it was better to do something than sit here and wait for someone or notice us.

     I honked the horn with three long honks and we waited to see if someone,or some zombie, came to the gate. Nothing. We waited over thirty minutes again and nothing came to the gate. Not a person, zombie, dog or cat. Nothing.

     We debated what we should do next and decided to try to drive all the way around the walls to look for breaks or any signs of movement. It took us about three hours to drive all the way around them and we had to drive through a stream and over part of a golf course to do it. We went slowly and Marny and Alicia kept a close eye on the walls with, even using binoculars when they felt they needed a better look. We saw the tops of trees and a couple of rooftops, but no movement, nothing. When we made it to the side opposite the gate we had honked at, we saw that the wall had been breached. A twenty food section of it had been blasted and run over with something like a tractor or tank, something with caterpillar tracks.

     We discussed going through the breach, but I finally convinced the others that it would be better to finish driving around the wall to check the rest of it first. Once we finished, we went back and had another talk about how we should go in. I vetoed going in on foot, since we didn't know what the situation inside was going to be. I suggested we take the truck in, do a quick circuit and see what's going on. Then, if it's safe, we could look around on foot. I put the truck in four wheel drive and drove over the crumbled pieces of wall.

     Inside, it was horrific. It had been a while since they were slaughtered, I could tell by the decomposition. There were skeletons, with strips of cloth and flesh, on the ground everywhere. In the street, in driveways, on lawns and porches, we could see them through the open doors in the houses. Their skulls were smashed and they'd been left where they fell. It was a ghost town. No wonder not undead had greeted us at the gate. There weren't any undead in here and since they'd all been killed by people, it meant that no undead had found them in time for the bodies to still be food for them.

     When we got to the gate, we decided to check one house together before we split up. The first house we chose was a mess. The inside was ransacked and what hadn't been taken had been broken. The walls had been spray painted with every kind of profanity or vulgar message and even a few pictures of dicks. We decided to try a second house, but found the same thing inside. The only interesting item I found was a folded piece of paper in one of the kitchens. It was covered in what had been jam or something like it, but I took it to see what it says. Otherwise, the whole place was a bust. We drove out of the community and two hours later, we found a nice, deserted farm house, with no skeletons in sight to stay the night in. That community gave me the creeps, I'm glad we left there quickly. Tomorrow will hopefully be a better day.

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 Earl Thompson, June 17

June 17, 2017

     We've been resting for two weeks and it's been wonderful. After Boston, and everything I saw and heard, I needed time to come to terms with it. For the first few days, every time I closed my eyes, I would see the swarm of zombies and their victims. It took around four days before I got a few solid hours and over the rest of our time here, the nightmares have slowly receded. Last night, I don't even remember dreaming and slept like the dead, but better then the undead.

     While we've been here, we've practiced with all the weapons, so all of us are more proficient at them individually and as a group. We've also decided where we're heading next; the Greenbrier Hotel in West Virginia. It has a bunker under it that was originally set up for congress during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I told the others about the place and we all agree it is probably our best bet. They should have supplies there, in case of an emergency, even if just for their employees and their families. Hopefully, people are there and it is defended and they'll take us in.

     By looking at the maps, we can mostly stick to National and State forests and off the main roads. Luckily, we have 4 wheel drive and I have a good sense of direction. From the Allegheny National Forest, we can head to the Moshannon State Forest to Rothrock State Forest, and so on, all the way to the George Washington State Forest and then the Greenbrier Hotel. It's going to take a lot of time, but we'll miss the major population centers and get to our destination, hopefully, safely.

     We're going to have to find a lot more supplies and will probably have to scavenge on the way to make it there. Luckily, we've been practicing our entries and exits for just such situations. The four of us are getting better at moving together and keeping all angles covered. Annie, Lisa, Phil and I are becoming a unit and I'm proud of the way they've learned so quickly.

     Our little cabin is secure and surrounded by all kinds of traps, alarms and hazards to keep us safer and give us time to take out any threat before they make it to the yard. We have pits with sharpened stakes, trip wires, noise alarms from the simplest with string and cans, to more complicated with trip wires and canned horns. So far, they've kept us safe and nothing has made it close to our yard without us hearing and taking them out. We've gotten really good at moving through the forest, quietly, and sneaking up on the undead. We've been lucky that we've only had undead trying to get to us. I don't want to have to kill anyone whose still alive, but I will if they are trying to hurt or kill any of us. I know I just met these three, but they've become really important to me. After all, they're the only live people I've got with me and there's safety in numbers. In this new world of zombies, biker gangs and people turning to the dark side to survive, you need someone, or someone's, to watch your back.

So, tomorrow, we head out and head from here to the Moshannon State Forest. If there are no cabins there, we'll find a house or cabin right at the edge. If we have to, we'll camp in the forest, but I would rather sleep inside, with four walls to help protect us. But, we'll do whatever we have to do to stay alive and headed in the direction we've chosen.

     We need to keep away from cities, keep heading towards the Greenbrier and hope we don't run into anyone who wants to hurt people. I know in situations where civilization breaks down, some people give in to their every dark fantasy and hurt whoever they want, take whatever they want and damn the people they hurt or kill on the way. Like the people who were going after Annie, Lisa and Phil, when I rescued them and we started traveling together. They're lucky I was driving up, otherwise the guys would be dead and the girls might be as well, but their deaths would've been much harder and painful. Those guys would've raped them and done whatever sick thing they wanted to do to them before killing them and finding someone else to torture.

     God willing, we'll make it to the Greenbrier and find a small piece of civilization to become a part of. Please, God.

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 Carol Evans, July 10

July 10, 2017

   

    I've always loved books and now I get to spend most of my time in a library. And not just any library. It was a really good one before we got here, but now, we've added a lot more books. Yesterday, I went along on a mission to the Pitkin Library and had a hard time limiting my selections to bring back. There are so many good books, from classics to children's novels to books on history, mythology, math, etc. Williams had to keep telling me to only take one book on each subject, for now.

     But, when I got to the classics, I put my foot down. Whoever owned the compound before the pandemic had books heavy on American authors, but severely lacking in Shakespeare, Dickens and other Old World authors. I had allotted almost a quarter of my allowed books to be taken from this section because the language they used needs to not be completely forgotten. I mean, stories like A Mid Summers Night Dream or Romeo and Juliet have some of the most widely quoted lines. I want to get people together to put on a play and Shakespeare can be done by almost everyone! Next, I want to make a trip to Explore Booksellers to see what I can find there.

     If I could get Jenna, Sean and the others involved, the kids would jump right in. Then, we can put on a production for the adults. It will give us something to do in the winter, when they can't go outside to play. I'm going to ask the scouts and scavengers to keep their eyes open for costume clothes and cloth. Maybe, I can convince them to combine a trip to Explore Booksellers and the Stitch Works and I can get books and the stuff I need to make some costumes.

     The library has been really busy lately. Now that people are getting into a routine at their assigned jobs, they want books to relax with. Once survival is not all you're thinking about, then you can start to read for pleasure. Some of the books people came in for were “How-to” books, a lot of them were for fun. Stephen King, Nora Roberts and books on lighter subjects were big winners. The oddest one was someone got a book on inventors to read. But, I was happy to help them with whatever they're looking for. There are books for every type of person and on every subject you can think of, so everyone can find something they like. I even started a list for specific books, genre's or subjects that we still need and will ask our scavengers to keep their eyes open for requests.

     The kids have even gotten the reading bug and have asked me to get more books for them. I had a list of requested books and authors when we went to the library and found a good portion of them to bring back. When they saw the books I'd found, there were happy screams and cheers. They wanted to take the right away but I told them we had to catalog them first, so we know what we have. It's going to take a few more days to get them all written down, but then we can tell, at a glance, what books we have, if someone asks. Ashley and I worked on the log book today and started with the children's books, so they should be recorded by tomorrow afternoon and the kids can start reading while we finish cataloging the rest of the books.

     Soon, we're going to have to take over rooms next to the library to keep all the books in. Williams has told us that when we get the rest of the neighborhood walled in, and people are spread out to the other houses inside the wall, then we can have several rooms, for books, reading rooms and even study groups. The house in the compound will become the administration center and home to the agreed upon leaders of our community. The plans we have are inspiring and will take time to implement, but they give us hope for our future.

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 Sean Glover, July 6

July 6, 2017

     I barely recognize this place anymore. I remember when I was here, by myself, watching movies and wishing there was someone around to talk to. I got so lonely, I would've been happy having one of my foster siblings or one of the many social workers I had to talk to. Now, I can't hardly find time alone, not that I really want to be alone now with Jenna around.

     There are lots of people around and even kids. They made a kick ass play area that can double as somewhere to defend, if it has to. There's even a school in the library for the kids run by a couple of ladies. Us teenagers don't have to go anymore, though. We do stuff with the adults and learn about knives, guns and survival stuff.

     We have people doing all kinds of jobs now. The house is taken care of by a group of the moms, the kitchen is Amanda's domain and she has a team to help her, including her two sous chefs. We have crops and a garden with fresh vegetables. I never thought I would be happy to get green stuff. I used to refuse to eat salads and broccoli, but now, I love it all. Anything fresh and grown by us tastes like heaven compared to the stuff that comes from cans.

     The compound is filling up and we're going to expand into more of the neighborhood. Once the wall is put up around the whole neighborhood, people can spread out more and we'll have more room to grow even more food. I hope we try to get some fruit going, I miss sweet stuff. I just don't know what will grow here, since it will get really cold in the winter. I bet there's a book in the library that could tell me what might grow here. I'll get Jenna to go look with me and we can come up with ideas and bring them to the group.

     That's one of the things I really like about the group. They treat Jenna, Eric, Elisabeth, Margaret and I as adults and listen to our ideas. Before all of this started, I was basically ignored by all the adults around me, unless I did something they didn't want me to do. It's only been like 6 months and now I'm treated like a valuable member of a team. I know we really impressed everyone with the play area. Jenna and I were in charge of getting what was needed and helping it get set up. It really blew them away when we showed them how it was even safer for the kids to play there if something happened because they could defend themselves from up high while the adults got the situation on the ground under control.

     Jenna. She's the best thing that's ever happened with me, like ever! She's pretty and cool and she likes me. It's weird. I've always thought of myself as a dork and being in foster care, it's hard to feel lovable. I have very few memories of my parents and so it's hard to believe that someone can actually like me, for me. But she does and I really like her. She's had a hard time with her family, as well. Her mom was not really a mom and she lived with her grandparents her whole life. So she knows how it feels to be different than other kids, who had homes with their parents and siblings.

     When I first saw her, everything inside me just kind of froze. I used to hate all those sappy love songs and romantic movies because I never knew what it was like to just fall for someone in an instant. We both love movies and music and spend hours just talking to each other about life before and after that undead shit started. I know we're both young, but I think I love her and want to spend the rest of whatever time I have left with her. And she seems to feel the same about me. Woo hoo!

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, July 5

July 5, 2017

     Our new people are settling in well. They're finding their place, whether it's in the kitchen, garden or the construction crew. Our community is really getting organized and getting more people here, and in places where their skills and knowledge can be assets to the whole group, is the key.

     I asked our new people to write brief notes about their experiences since the pandemic started. I thought I would include some of them here, as practice for the archive I'm starting. So far, I have notes, letters and journals from over 100 people from a handful of states.

     Mary Taylor is one of the newest members of our group and provided me with a letter of her experiences.

“My name is Mary Taylor and I lived in Bishop, California and was a guide for rock climbers. I loved my work, even when the people who hired me were idiots. The town sits right between the Sierra Nevada's and the White Mountains. It's well known for bouldering problems. It's the reason I'm one of the lucky ones, I was in great physical shape.

When the undead made it to our town, I was out bouldering with these corporate business types and had just gotten them all about 10 feet off the ground and heading up. Thank God they were already out of reach! I heard people screaming at the area where people would wait for their loved ones to finish. Then the stampede started heading right by us, all running in panic and not really thinking about survival. I immediately started climbing and by the time I was just out of reach, the zombies started taking out the people at the back or the crowd. The ones who didn't exercise or were injured or just slow. The screams were horrible.

I just kept going, trying to block out the sounds from below. The screaming, crunching, slurping, tearing sounds accompanied by the moaning and growling from the zombies trying to get their piece of flesh. I just kept going up. Hand hold, secure, move, find foot hold, repeat. I heard someone above me lose his hand hold and the scream passed by me to the left about five feet. Lucky bastard, the fall killed him and he didn't feel the zombies eating him. Finally, I reached the top and found five of the seven members of our group, the other two, the guy who fell and one who refused to stay up there and started down the other side.

They all started asking me what we were going to do next, so I told them to sit down, stay quiet and hope the zombies left after they finished their snack below. It took at least two and a half hours for the undead to completely finish their meal, then they got up and looked around but they didn't move. Now I know there wasn't anything to draw them like sounds, smells, or the sight of something not undead moving. We were up shit creak.

I passed around the bottles of water I had and everyone got half a granola bar. I made sure to tell them that the bottles were all I had, so the one they got had to last. But of course, someone always just does what they want and one of the men drank over half his bottle in one go. Hey, it's his funeral, not mine.

I sipped my water and ate my part of the granola bar and kept quiet. I spent some time securing ropes to the rings for that purpose, making it easier to get out of shape executives down if they made it all the way up here. Then I settled down to wait and looked around.

I could see some other people who were on nighboring bouldering problems. There had to be at least 50 people either on the tops or working their ways up that I could see. What the hell were we going to do? We were all stuck up here until something drew the attention of the zombies around us. I know I didn't plan to be out here longer than the day and only had 10 bottles of water and 10 granola bars, just a snack for my group before climbing down.

That's when the fighting started. One of the bouldering problems was really getting crowded and someone started yelling and pushing and two people fell off the edge and screamed on the way down. Everyone else froze. Then the biggest guy over there grabbed the guy who had started it all, dragged him to the edge by his throat and threw him over. No one tried to stop him and no one did anything after.

The undead below up followed the sound of the screams and our area cleared out. I told the guys lets go and threw the ropes down. We had practiced the way to rapel down, and they all did it well for beginners. I made it down first and pulled out my knife, ready to defend myself if any zombies were around. The men made it down and we headed for our cars. We ran into a couple of zombies, but were able to take care of them and get to our cars. Several other groups made it out, too. I ran into a couple of other guides and we decided to take our four wheel drive trucks around the bouldering problems and use sound to draw the undead away from the rest of the people and give them a chance.

Once we had drawn them far enough away, we split up and went our separate ways. I went home and hoped to find my girlfriend, Erica, home, safe and sound. Her truck was out front but when I went in, I found what was left of her in the kitchen. The glass doors were broken and she was being devoured by two undead construction workers. I kinda blacked out for a second and when I came back, the zombies were dead and I was kneeling next to Erica on the floor. I cried for I don't know how long, before it came to me that I had to take out her brain, or she'd come back and I didn't know how long that would take. I don't remember doing it, but I know I did.

I stumbled out of the kitchen to our room, closed and locked the door and just went away mentally for a while. I woke up, curled up in the middle of my bed, covered in Erica's blood. I changed clothes and packed some bags with my personal possessions, a few things of Erica's to remember her by, and grabbed the .9 mm pistol from my nightstand. Then, I left the bedroom, packed what I needed in the rest of the house before going back to the kitchen last. I packed up all the food I could and started taking everything I packed into my truck. I siphoned all the gas from Erica's truck into an empty gas can and grabbed the five full ones we kept on hand for the generator we have for winter. Then, I drove away from my home, heading East.

I was really lucky that I made it all the way to Aspen in my truck. I stuck to as many back roads as I could, scavenged and slept mostly in my truck. It felt safer than staying in houses by myself. I would find somewhere to pull my truck, like a garage or alley somewhere I was protected on at least two sides, preferably three.

I'm really thankful that I found this place and this group. I was really tired of being on my own but was scared to try to find a group because of some of the things I found on the way here. Women, dead and still tied to beds they were raped in. People crucified, hanged, burned, or just stabbed and left undead. Sick things and I was really lucky to not meet the people who did them.

It's good to see some civilization exists still in this world of chaos.

Mary Taylor”

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.