Red Winter Read Free Page A

2012

    Survivors

    I got an e-mail today. The first in months, hell, even the spam had stopped. I never thought I'd miss junk mail from porno sites and Nigerian princes, but I did.

There is no describing the feeling I got when the pop up notification appeared. My heart leapt, my stomach turned, and my mind raced. I clicked on it, and there, just a simple message from a woman named Jenny: Chase,

The three of us found your blog a short time ago. We don't have much internet access outside of a blackberry we found, but your blog gives us hope. It lets us know that there is still someone else out there, someone trying to survive just like us. Keep writing as long as you can, it's making a difference.

Jenny I was speechless, unable to move for a while. I can't believe I'm making a difference. Maybe there's a reason I'm still able to get a signal, still able to get the word out...

Good feelings are shortlived, however. I'm running low on gasoline. I took a trip down to storage this morning, but the apartment is all out. I've shut it down for now, but my battery is already running low. The real question is whether it would be worth it to risk going to a gas station. Of course, even if I could get there, with no electricity, I'd never be able to work the pumps. Perhaps a gas truck?

I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

    New Start...

    The battery operated digital clock is counting down the moments, the end of another year. But this time, there are no parties, no dancing, no kissing, no champagne, no one to share it with.

As I type this, there are just a few minutes of 2012 left. It was hardly a month ago that life was normal, that I was just a normal guy working a steady job. This...disease was nothing but a seasonal flu scare, nothing more than anything you hear about any other year.

But now I'm here, freezing in my small apartment, typing on a laptop powered by a dying gas generator and only able to see by the light of candles stolen from another apartment. But there's still hope, and therefore, still a chance. I've made it this long.

What's your resolution? Mine is to stop waiting for this thing to blow over, because it won't. I need to make something happen, because waiting for help will not get the job done. It may be too late, but at least I'll have tried.

It's midnight, 2013 is here.

Here's hoping it's better than the last.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

    Once Bitten...

    I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, as if it is threatening to crack the very ribs that contain it. My lungs expand and contract, taking in air and squeezing it back out. Slow and deliberate.

It eases the pain somewhat with each exhale, but each time I inhale, the pain heightens, leaving me dizzy, my consciousness threatening to leave me. The wound on my side is deep, torn from the love handle I could never quite get rid of. It's just fat, just a flesh wound, except mixed in with the blood is the poison from one of those...things.

I remove the towel I've been holding to the wound. It's grown heavy with blood, and drips onto the carpet. Oh well, it's not like the deposit on this place matters much anymore.

I've cleaned the bite and applied pressure, but something in the saliva is preventing it from clotting, preventing any sort of healing. It's turning a strange color, and I'm starting to feel hot.

I guess I shouldn't be on here. I need...I need to find something to stop this. There has to be something around here, maybe some kind of anti-viral medicine or something...

    Countdown to the End

    I finally managed to stop the bleeding, and some Vicodin from one of my neighbors has eased the pain, but definitely not eliminated it.

This is my doing, my own fault. I got too bold, thought I was smart, thought I could protect myself. I was wrong.

The generator ran out of fuel yesterday, which is what started this whole mess. The blog wasn't important, but I somehow convinced myself that it was. Besides, who wants to