Tuesday, August 7, 2018

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.


 

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