Emma, Page 3

  The last time I checked, I'm a damn person, not just tissue. And the same can be said for the poor souls who are desperately turning to our army for help, only to be killed on sight.

  Entry 20

  Today, the United States splintered into two separate governments. A civil war, I guess you could call it.

  The force that continues to operate out of Washington, under orders of the President, and a new government that is operations out of Los Angeles.

  California was the first to leave, and seventeen other states have joined them, not that it really matters. A majority of them are overrun by the thirty-three and Russians, the latter of which moves a bit slower, and couldn't go to war with each other if they wanted to.

  California was the first to protest killing innocent civilians, and when chatter began to come from Washington on the possible use of nuclear weaponry, states began to pull their loyalties to California.

  Here, the news had led to several developments. James Johnson has promised a mandatory meeting within the next twenty-four hours to determine our own future.

  Entry 21

  It's been a total of three weeks since I began writing in this journal.

  It has proved to be my escape from the events around me, and sadly, I feel it may also become a recorded document for future generations. I am beginning to doubt that anyone will survive this terrible outbreak. Or better yet, plague. It's a damn plague like our planet has never seen, and to call it any less would be untruthful.

  I've come to understand how easily a journey logged digitally can be wiped away. It's the reason books have withstood the test of time. My journal is just as powerful as a firearm in a manner of speaking.

  People will somehow find a way to live through this. Maybe not many, but people will survive. I'm sure of that. I begin to question how many people are logging the historical events around us as they unfold? My curse of a birthday present may just prove to be one of the most important documents in the world. At least what remains of it.

  Today we had a meeting, and it even included the soldiers at our gates, which joined us by radio contact. James Johnson said he wanted everyone involved, which proved to be very fair on his part. We are forming our own government.

  The thirteen colonies, one of which is Genesis Ranch, have decided to unify. Bringing with their unity, strength. We will remain here, but it's now imperative that we vote in a representative. That person will represent Genesis Ranch each time a meeting is held between all of the colonies. We're also siding with our home state of Texas, which quickly joined California in leaving the United States as we know it. Technically, we won the defection side of the civil war. As of now, our side has two official flags. People in the south have once again adopted the Confederate Flag of old, while those further west are using a flag blue flag with three large white stars. I'm sure at some point both will come together to form something new. Assuming the Russians or the Americans don't kill us first. Oh, and the zombies.

  Though we're technically on the land of James Johnson, he has declined a role in things outside of the ranch, instead focusing his efforts on shoring up the defenses of Genesis. But we've decided to follow Texas in leaving.

  Every adult is being given the opportunity to vote on any changes with the ranch itself, and we won't know the official count until tomorrow.

  Entry 22

  Last night our people decided that we will be controlled by three figures of power moving forward.

  James Johnson was voted as the person who remains at Genesis Ranch. The Judge. He's responsible for all matters involving our community, as well as delegating responsibilities. He'll decide who receives what rations, oversee any expansion and is tasked with keeping peace among those here. And he should be, it's his land.

  A man named Eric Alverez was voted the Gatekeeper, which is essentially the man in charge of our defenses. From what I could make of it, he has an extensive military background, and is well respected among the soldiers here. He'll protect our gates and make sure others are trained to defend our home as time moves forward.

  The surprise of the night was my dad being voted the Journeyman. He'll not only represent Genesis Ranch at each meeting of colonies, but is responsible for putting together a team to scavenge outside of our gates. As the world falls deeper into an age of darkness, supplies and resources in the outside world will become more scarce. It'll be his job to collect as many as possible. James nominated him.

  Though my dad seemed very honored and excited, my mom became overwhelmed with grief. I'm not sure if it's because she fears for my dad's safety, or if the current crisis of the world is finally catching up to her. Time will tell, I guess, but tonight we've been told to get some rest as things will begin to change tomorrow.

  Entry 23

  There's nothing that scares you quite like the feeling of waking up to the look of two armed soldiers.

  Using very few words, they took me, ushering me to the small building in which our three members of power had been meeting. The fact that it was still dark, very early morning hours, only added to the feeling of frightening I experienced.

  But soon, I was greeted with smiles from my dad, James and Eric. Aside from the three and a handful of stationed soldiers, I was the first member of Genesis Ranch to see the interior of the building.

  It looked very odd, to say the least. A large table of thick wood rested in its center as a masterpiece work of furniture polished to a shine. On the walls were several large maps, survival material and organizational logs. Things like a head count of the ranch and each person's specialty before the outbreak of the EF1 virus.

  I was quick to realize my dad had suggested me for an important position within Genesis Ranch, having told James Johnson about my ongoing journal. James had suggested someone to keep all records of the ranch, as well as document the world around us as time went on. I was pretty much doing this anyway, and when my dad spoke of it, James brought me in to become his personal assistant.

  It was very exciting to think of the fact that I was about to hold such an important position in one of our world's last remaining governments. But my excitement jumped a dozen times over as my dad handed me one of the two computers here at the ranch. A laptop, self-powered by solar cells that were embedded around the frame. It was obviously a military issued computer, and as my dad smiled to me, I realized I would in fact be the person to speak of Genesis Ranch to future generations.

  James Johnson has given me tomorrow off in order to take everything from my journal and enter it onto the laptop. So there will be no journal entry for tomorrow on my end.

  I will, however, continue to log entries into both the computer and my journal. Sadly, I don't trust technology anymore. Not after seeing so much of it destroyed so easily.

  Entry 24

  And so my journal enters the digital age.

  Well, the digital age is pretty much dead, so let's just call this my first digital entry. I honestly believe my dad when he says this laptop was at one time, military issued. It's cased in a very thick shell of aluminum, almost as though it were a briefcase. The operating system is rather old, but I've quickly come to love the ease of a keyboard.

  The other computer here at Genesis Ranch is a desktop, and from what I understand, it's state of the art. James has given my access to it as well, though very limited. It's the only way to communicate with other colonies, so the idea of it being a shared computer is out of the question. Gone are the days of elderly librarians and mothball stench, these are the days of a single computer under heavy guard in a building by itself.

  James has allowed me to be on the networked computer about fifteen minutes each day. I'm to scour the few remaining websites for news on the EF1 outbreak, and then pass it along to the people here at Genesis. One of the nation's top news websites hasn't been updated in several days, which has forced me to switch over to the other. I keep telling myself this must be the end of the world, because I haven't seen news of a Clinton political scand
al in weeks. Oh well.

  Entry 25

  This morning I was hit with a mixture of emotions.

  My dad has been given the task of traveling almost two hours away to meet with another colony's convoy. The plan is, we are taking what we have plenty of, which pretty much amounts to weapons. We'll swap with the convoy from Spearhead Farm in exchange for food, some medicine and labor tools. Nothing big, from what I understand. Pistols for the most part, and many of them are in questionable shape at best. In return we'll be getting hings like machetes, hammers and anything else they have to spare. Building supplies that James needs in order to improve our colony. That's what a good leader does.

  I fear for my dad, though he'll be under the escort of nearly a dozen of our soldiers. At the same time, I envy him for being one of the first people at Genesis Ranch to see the world as it is now. So many dangers await us outside of these gates. The thirty-three percent infected with the EF1 virus, other survivors and even our own military. That said, my dad has an opportunity to bring a great deal of needed supplies back, plus whatever he can scavenge. He's been cleared to spend the entire night outside of the gates, though when they return, they'll all have to spend twenty-four hours in quarantine.

  My dad has never been one to go anywhere without extensive planning, and after speaking to several people on the ranch, he has made a list of the twenty items we could use the most.

  I have no idea what's on that list because he's insisted that our family spend the entire evening together without bringing Genesis Ranch business up. Still, I imagine things like soap, toothpaste and as much gasoline as we can get our hands on. Food as well, though Genesis has a rather large garden that produces food and we're also working on a second. Spending time with my dad is fine by me, though I can see it written all over my mom's face. She fears for him and also grows tired of life here. It's only been a few days, so that spells trouble it she can't learn to cope.

  Entry 26

  Late last night we were hit.

  And though it wasn't a huge force at our gates, fear has started to spread across Genesis Ranch. Our soldiers quickly gunned down seven people infected with the EF1 virus, which spells danger for two reasons.

  One, they know where we are now. And two, our soldiers reported the thirty-three percent worked as a group, meaning they are much more organized than we gave them credit for.

  My father still insists on making the voyage this morning, which is not sitting well with my mom. In her eyes, my dad is the man she loves. In the eyes of everyone else here, he's the man who can bring much-needed supplies back to Genesis.

  Entry 27

  I just watched my daddy leave the gates of Genesis under the guard of our finest soldiers, wondering if I would ever see him again.

  My mom is shaken up pretty badly, as am I, though I have tried to explain his reasoning to her. He's a hero for crying out loud!

  A life together will be tremendously harder without a functioning society around us. No matter its structure or size. As a people, we stand a much better chance when organized. Part of that involves everyone having a job.

  I've tried to explain to her that my dad is doing his job. He's not heading out to make her suffer, but rather to provide a more comfortable life for both of us. Let's hope my reasoning takes hold of mom, she's very shaken by his absence.

  Entry 28

  Still no word from my dad. It's to be expected though, as we'd given him a day or so to get everything needed. Including information.

  Things seem quiet around Genesis today. Nobody is talking about the scavenging party my dad is leading, though it's pretty evident that most people are thinking about it.

  Much quieter than normal.

  Entry 29

  The time frame my dad set for his return has come and gone.

  Still the group here remains quiet, though I fear they do so because they believe the scavenging group dead. I remain hopeful, especially for my mom, who is taking each passing hour harder than the hour before.

  I've tried very hard to push thoughts of my dad's return aside long enough to do my job. Scouring the computer for information on the world around us.

  The United States military remains divided and most of Europe continues to be in a total state of decay. Completely chaotic. North Korea has joined China and Russia's war against Japan – no doubt a push for needed supplies. In other words, we are trying to hold a fractured nation together while allying ourselves with Japan in a complete world war.

  The world's only hope for beating the EF1 virus and a growing army of infected was to become unified. Instead, the few functioning governments that remain are now divided and at war with one another.

  The second national news webpage also went offline earlier today, as did audio feeds which had been broadcast over the airwaves. Essentially cutting survivors off from one of their most-vital supplies. Information. We continue to pick up scattered reports, but they aren't from actual news stations. These are normal people checking in and passing along what they see. Who knows if it's true?

  I'll continue to scour the computer as James has given me a lot more access. My job, officially, has become one of bringing credible information to those within Genesis Ranch. My dilemma is trying to figure out which pieces of news to trust. Some people are claiming that the United States is whole once more and pushing against the Russian assault. Other transmissions have called that a blatant lie. Nothing more than civil war propaganda. And I thought being a teenager was tough.

  Entry 30

  We're now a couple of days past my dad's date of return. Even I cannot keep pretending that all is well. I miss my father.

  My mother has been in tears nearly all day long, understanding that dad's chances of survival at this point are slim.

  Several of us, myself included, have suggested to James that we immediately form a search party. An idea he's swiftly cut down, saying we have neither the manpower or resources to do such. While I understand his reasoning, I disagree. Perhaps it would be easier to swallow if it were not my own father.

  Today has been relatively calm, outside of the emergency meeting held to decide against a search party. I remain hopeful that my father will return in due time, but, until then, I plan to focus on helping to make Genesis a safer place.

  Entry 31

  Last night we were hit hard by infected.

  Nearly 100 of them, each storming us with viciousness. Deep after midnight, I began to hear shots firing out in no short order. Letting me know something big was taking place right at our gates.

  I've no idea how many of our own fell during the fight, but I get the feeling we lost a good many. The mood around Genesis this morning is one of sadness and confusion. People seem to have given up hope.

  The military-trained who remain, have been locked in a meeting all morning. Trying to figure out a better way to defend this ranch. Meanwhile, the rest of us have been tasked with putting our dead to rest. Burying them and comforting their loved ones.

  There's talk that our military-trained will begin training those of us who are willing. My mom is completely against the idea, though I know my dad would want me to.

  Entry 32

  Know your enemy. Pack heat. Have a plan.

  Those were the first three things out of James' mouth today at the firing range, and I like it. He says he read it in a book called Deadworld, which I think is odd. Seriously guy, you don't have to read great zombie fiction. You're living it. I've never held a firearm before, though even I know enough to hold it upright – not sideways.

  I was afraid of the kickback on the pistol, but James strapped us all down with a .380. Little kick, but enough stopping power to defend ourselves. Plus, I'm pretty sure they have a shitload of ammunition for the .380. Using the stronger weapons only when needed. So it works.

  Knowing your enemy means learning how they fight and how they die. If there is a single body in front of us, we're to go for the head. A guaranteed kill. If there are several, we're to shoot at
the torso, which is much larger and easier to hit and then finish them off once they fall.

  Pack heat is pretty obvious. Don't get caught without a weapon. If you do, you'll have to depend on someone else to save your ass. Be it a small pistol or a baseball bat – have something on you at all times. I've seen folks around the ranch carrying anything from a pool sticks to frying pans. I also saw a wooden mop, which I have to question. I suppose if you're desperate enough.

  Have a plan. This was the most useful part of the speech we got today while training with weaponry. Always go into a situation knowing your way out. In other words, determine an escape route before doing anything. The infected are a bit slower than we are. If we're smart about how we travel, running away is always an option. Never get trapped in an area with no escape route. It seems like we'd already know that, but James explained how poor planning could land you in a bad spot really quick.

  Especially if you're carrying a wooden mop.

  Entry 33

  I'm very tired today.

  To be honest, I didn't sleep well. I suppose anticipating another infected attack on Genesis didn't help matters any. There's something very hard to explain about laying your head down and having no idea what you'll wake up to. Any sense of safety is completely gone.