Apocalypse Diary of a Survivor [Book 1] Read online

  3.30pm:

  Just got back from doing a run for paper and ink cartridges. I’ve been working that printer into the ground, I’m surprised it hasn’t blown up... seriously. I also bought a bunch of folders and dividers and plastic sleeves ‘n’ stuff. I figure if I actually survive Saturday morning I can sort the reams of stuff into some sort of meaningful order.

  At this stage it’s just about getting info on paper – in case the net goes down. I’ve printed everything... everything I can think of. Locations of key storage facilities in the area, survival guides, stores that might have useful bits and pieces. I even found a couple of ‘maker’ sites... they’re hilarious. They’re these community sites where people make cool stuff from everyday objects. Well, when I say ‘cool’ stuff, some of it is actually quite average, but there are some real gems in there – everything from purifying water to making antibiotics. I loaded up the printer queue with about 80 things that have potential value. Like everything, it’s a bit of a crap shoot to know what, if anything, I’ll be faced with, but better to be over-prepared,I say. I’m not really concerned about the paper wastage right now – any global warming problem we face will be less like a gradual 2rise in Earth temp and more like a freaking rapid 2000 one.

  4.45pm: Fiona J. OMG. Fiona freakin’ Jordon. Just had one of... no, scrub that... the hottest... and weirdest... experience of my life. When I answered the door she was wearing one of those sexy little summer dresses. With the light flowing in from behind her you could almost see the outline of her hot, hot body staring back. I’ll never forget that vision. Anyways, we kinda just looked at each other for what seemed like 10 minutes. And by the way she was looking at me I knew she didn’t want me to sign her yearbook or anything.

  Eventually she stepped into me and whispered, ‘I’ve always wanted to do this’. What, what? She has? She could’ve maybe just said something about it! Before I knew it we were getting into it right there in the doorstep. She has really soft lips, or soft kisses, or something... it was a real turn on.

  To be honest I’ve always had the hots for Fi to the J. But she was just one of those girls you knew was destined to achieve far more than anyone else in our grade and she pretty much knew it too. She also had this massive vibe that she’d only date older dudes. Either that or study always took precedence over the social side – none of the guys stood a chance. Until today :D But she’s hot – so many degrees of hot. And as I discovered not as straight down the line as I had imagined.

  After a few minutes of making out she turned me around and asked to see my room. I led her there but I’ve gotta say she led everything else. Unbelievable. I’ve never had sex like that before. It was as if she was on a mission to play out all her fantasies while she still could and for some reason she decided I was the guy to do them with.

  I just went with it. Not the hardest thing to do really. She clearly had strong ideas on what she wanted and I just went along with it. I played my part, happily, being the lover she desired. And once we got into it things just clicked. It was pure... in some weird way... just pure desire. Honestly, this stuff does not happen to guys like me. In fact I don’t think stuff like this actually ever happens in the real world. Fortunately, at least for this moment, this isn’t the real world.... this is the end of the world!

  It must have been the best part of an hour before it got weird. Not in a bedroom sense (I don’t think I’d find too much weird there) but in a totally messed-up sense.

  A car horn started beeping out the front, impatient at first, then incessantly. Eventually Fiona swore, got up and puts her clothes on. I told her I wanted her to stay a while but she tells me she has to leave because her boyfriend is getting annoyed.

  Um, boyfriend? As in, waiting out the front of my house in the car while she sleeps with me, boyfriend? Well yes, apparently so. She tells me when she found out about the asteroid she wanted to break up with him. But he wouldn’t let her go. So this – I mean, I – was their compromise.

  I walked her to the door and have one last kiss before this Commodore revs hard then beeps the horn. I certainly didn’t stare at the dude in the driver’s seat but he definitely looked early-twenties at least. I’m sure he sneered at me but I resist the urge to flip him the bird, no point kicking someone when they’re down.

  Fiona whispered, ‘thank you’, and left.

  6pm: My second ‘last meal’ has been dedicated to the wonderful people of Italy and their magnificent invention, the pizza. It is also dedicated to the wonderful people of Australia, who took this humble Italian cuisine and Aussified it by asking the question, ‘what happens when you put on more than two toppings?’ We collectively said we shall create such a pizza, and we shall call it ‘Supreme’. Maybe it’s a nod to our convict heritage that the only times you hear the word Supreme is in association with the word ‘Court’ or the word ‘Pizza’.

  Whatever the back story, it was bloody beautiful eating. I just sat and watched the live coverage of the US rocket launch. Currently we’re 2 and 2 at the moment after the European’s effort went the same way as the Chinese one. It looked good early as it cleared the launch pad but it wasn’t long before it started leaning to the right, just a bit at first, then a bit more. Before I knew it I was watching the TV on an angle – like a golfer trying to will his wayward drive back on to the fairway. Within seconds the thing was nearly sideways and I think mission control hit the self-destruct button cos for no reason it exploded. Another 1000 space workers on this world without eyebrows methinks. To be fair to them, they were battling strong winds and had it not been an end-of-the-world scenario they would’ve delayed the launch.

  So that leaves us with two chances of hope in the air and the US effort about to set sail. At least that’s the official picture. But I’m half watching the coverage and half surfing the web on my iPad and there are so many sources of info saying there is no chance any of these rockets will succeed. Now, I can smell some looney’s conspiracy site from a mile away – but there are so many credible sources of info emerging and quotes from some seemingly very creditable sources it’s a bit hard to ignore. Not too much coverage on it in TV land though.

  Can’t say I’m totally surprised by it all. They’re not going to want anarchy in the final days. I mean, people are already going crazy enough without totally losing hope.

  Back on the ground in the USofA things aren’t looking good for Operation: Final Shield – yeah, I know, they called it that :S

  As was the case with the Europeans, the weather is not playing ball, in fact, it was worse. The thing is, the Americans will be carrying a nuclear payload and I don’t think anyone wants to press the go button and be responsible for nuking their own soil.

  They were trying to move forward the launch time because the weather is deteriorating rapidly – apparently the original midnight (our time) launch time will now be gale force winds. The result was a lot of staring at launch pads, delays and, in the end, Operation: Final Shield becomes Operation: Fail Shield. It will sit on the tarmac collecting rain and rust and not take part in any earth-saving activities. It’s pretty deflating, actually. For some reason I just assumed this one would take off. Maybe my mind has been manipulated by too many bad US-centric save-the-day movies, but that just adds to the feeling.

  7.30pm: Well, the printer is backed up with a bunch of things to print from the net and I’m gearing up for a games sesh with the boys. They’re all bringing around their big screens and Xbox and we’re gonna system link some serious Call of Duty action. I’ve reconfigured the lounge and dining room so all six TVs can line up along the far wall and, when we start playing 3 on 3, we will switch the setup across to the dining table. It’s a bit weird as part of me is feeling really guilty* for not dedicating tonight to preparing for tomorrow but then part of me needs to do it. What if this is my last chance to see all the boys together – or play games? I’d rather go out with one more epic games sesh under my belt than a few more hours of prep. At least the printer will make m
e feel less guilty.

  *Guilt – I seem to be using that word a lot these days!

  There’s a new star in the night sky tonight. Its name is 2014DM3. It’s sitting low in the western sky – you could see it for about an hour after the sun went down. It wasn’t as bright as I expected. I assume I was looking at the right one – I was probably looking at Venus or something.

  2.30am: I rock – that’s all that needs be said of how many ways I powned the boys tonight. I was so good I almost felt sorry for how stupid I made everyone else look. Almost. Great times – and it just made me realise how much a good headshot is like a work of art. Johnno brought a carton of Pale Ale around, Boof had a bottle of bundy and Hardo brought around the VB – but we let him in anyway.

  I’ve just kicked the last of the boys out and the place looks like the asteroid has already struck, but that’s OK – it was so worth it. #epicgamessesh

  It did get kinda weird towards the end – we actually started talking about meaningful stuff – yeah, I know – about how we felt about the potential end of the world. I mean, we don’t talk about things like that – ever. Generally, the fear of dying came up – not the dying itself but the missing out on all the living people like us should be looking forward to.

  It definitely hit home hearing the boys talk about it. I guess I’ve pretty much gone into a shell on the subject, I s’pose. It’s a coping thing, they’d say – not talking about it and all that. I just break the hours down into what I need to do and, now, what I want to do. Maybe all of which is a cunningly designed thought process by my subconscious to spend no time actually thinking about what’s coming at all. And I’ve heard people talk about it and the potential impacts – but that doesn’t count because it’s people on TV – experts in this, professors in that – just generally old people. But this was people I know well, who are going through all the same… feelings (grr) I am. Hearing them talk about it all made me realise how nervous and shit-scared I am.

  Anyways, when the boys left I jumped back online for a few more games – shooting random newbs made me feel so much better. #ignoranceisbliss

  ****

  Friday, April 12, 2014

  9am: D-Day.

  I just got up, feeling nasty. Whose stupid idea was it to drink beer anyways? And BBBBs? Well, that was just a really bad idea. Note to self: when your friend’s nickname is Boof and he comes up with an invention called Boof’s Bundy-Bomb Beers, you don’t have to try them. Any ‘good ideas’ from a guy who accepts being called Boof should be, on the whole, ignored. BBBBs – Just applaud his creativity and move on. It’ll keep him happy. And whatever you do don’t have one... or another... or another. My tongue feels like it’s covered in moss.

  There’s a really strange feeling hitting me right now. I’ve done just about everything I needed to do to prepare. At least I think I have – I could always buy another can opener – you can never have enough, right? The thing is, my plans have kept me so busy just preparing this, buying that and whatever else, I really haven’t spent too much time dwelling on what it all means; what’s potentially coming. It started creeping in last night but today it’s hit big time. It’s like my mind has found this way of deliberately not letting itself be exposed to the enormity of tonight.

  I’m feeling like there’s this overwhelming sense of emotion just lurking under the surface and if I allow myself just one second too long thinking about it I might burst out crying or punch the wall or something. I’m toey. I’m so God-dammed toey. Arrrggghghghghghg!!!!!

  Need a distraction.

  10am: Distraction found. I’m now the proud owner of a hydroponics system. All I need is a bit of electricity for light and a bit of water to grow and I’ll have myself an inside market garden. All it needs now is my green thumb… ahhh – and there’s the chink in the armour.

  It was hilarious at the store. I mean, I looked like death-warmed-up this morning and between that and my age, and judging by the people that run the place – there’s only one particular plant they thought I’d be growing and it doesn’t produce food. But it does make you hungry. Oh did you see what I did there with the jokes? Good irony, me.

  PS - I’m putting this purchase in the ‘luxury items on Dad’s credit card just in case’ category.*

  PS – my third ‘last meal’ was Maccas’ breakfast. Once again I blame the BBBBs. It’s actually getting harder to find takeaway places open. I figure they’re running out of people prepared to spend potentially a large chunk of the rest of their lives on minimum wage. But Maccas was flying the drive-thru flag with pride and I obliged.

  They say people are splitting into two camps on the whole work issue. The majority have just dropped it and aren’t going back until this is over (probably applies for a good result only) and others, particularly those in the service and emergency services industries, are trying to remain on. There’s an ad campaign encouraging people to ‘do their bit to help keep the world moving’. I heard Maccas are giving their staff crazy bonus money for working, which probably helps.

  *I really miss Mum and Dad. I would love just at least a phone call. Just to be able to hear their voices again. To hear Mum tell me she loves me and for Dad to say he was proud of all the things I’d done to plan for survival. God, what’s happening to me? Did I just write this? I’m seriously an emotional wreck today.

  11am: I messaged Fi to the J earlier to say how blown away I was by yesterday’s catch-up (I used more eloquent words, by the way). And how much I’ve always liked her too. And to wish her all the best and that I was thinking of her. I figured if I was having all these gushy feelings then I may as well focus them on her.

  Anyways, she texted back just then with a long post about when we met and the moment she realised she liked me and what I meant to her etc. This really has come out of nowhere, but hell, it makes me feel good. She’ll be the first person I call if this thing ends and everything’s alright.

  11.30am: I keep coming across one absolute must basic rule from every survivor website. They all say I need a bug-out bag and a bug-out plan. The bug-out bag is a pack with items you need to survive, just in case your home becomes compromised. You fill it with the sort of items that will get you through a few days so you can grab it and go at a moment’s notice. Where do you go? Well, that’s supposed to be the bug-out plan – a detailed idea of what to do when things hit the fan, as they say. This is where everything falls down as I have no bug-out plan whatsoever. I don’t know where to go if my house is destroyed and I survive.

  So I’m going to make a bug-out bag, pack it with a week’s worth of food, a knife, a torch, a change of clothes, water and whatever else I can think of. I’m going to take it with me to the Jameson’s. I just hope I don’t need it.

  3pm: I was really starting to weird myself out just hanging around the house so I decided to go for a drive. And then it occurred to me I should spend what could be my last few hours driving past all the places that had meant something to me. So I just cranked up the Js on the radio and went a-drivin’.

  I started at the first house I remember living in at Cowandilla, then the primary school around the corner where I went until year 4. After that it was out to our next house at Glandore, then out to Magill, Trinity Gardens Primary, Norwood/Morialta High, then a cruise up The Parade where I worked at Cibo and past the oval where I watched the Redlegs, past Adelaide Oval where I watched the Crows and just a bunch of other random spots where I’ve hung out with friends, had little moments of love, or some other memorable experience.

  It really helped, it did. What do they call it on the talk shows? Closure? Ahh! Closure – I can almost hear the American accent as I write the word. I was giving myself some of this fancy closure stuff, I think. If it does all end tonight … well, then I can consider myself pretty lucky with the life I’ve lived. I can consider all the openy* bits… closured*.

  *These are words because I say they are.

  4.30pm: Well, it finally happened and I don’t know what to think. Mum
and Dad phoned. Someone finally alerted the crazy middle-aged hippies hiding in the Tassie forest that they should perhaps pick up a freaking newspaper and find out there have been a few changes since they left the civilised world.

  It was such a shock when they did call I balled my eyes out on the spot. It was Dad. Typical Dad too – almost zero pleasantries (he’s always a bit awkward like that) he had a list a mile long of things I needed to do to prepare. I think I impressed the hell out of him when I said I’d done most of them. For the record he didn’t say he was proud of me but I could tell it from his tone of voice. If anything he was a bit taken aback by what I’d done, and I think I detected a tone of disappointment (under the pride) – almost as if he felt he was no longer needed. That might just be my spin on it but I’m gonna take it as a huge compliment nonetheless.

  Mum more than made up for things in the emotional department. That was hard to cope with. I can’t remember much of what was said – apart from a lot of ‘I love yous’. But hearing them that was equally fulfilling as it was distant. It was so good to have that moment but it wasn’t them in the flesh. There were no over-embracing cuddles, no annoying lipstick marks left on my cheek, no scent of perfume … just the words. The words and the tears.

  Dad finished up things by telling me their plan to get back to Adelaide. Approximate itinerary and approximate ETA. When Dad says approximate he usually means within 15 minutes or else it is a fail. He’s also got a contingency plan if he can’t get in immediate contact, and a list of things for me to do if I haven’t heard from them within 48 hours of the event. He made me write a whole bunch of things down. By the end of the call I was feeling pretty good. Good to hear from them and looking forward to seeing them on the other side of all this.