Just Another Apocalypse Diary Day 15 (Short Story Series)

Last night didn’t prove to be especially romantic for me. We spent a crazy amount of time just breaking into, and clearing houses that were already stripped bare of food. Not to mention, at an especially thick area of the canyon, during the beginning of our trip, I was forced to knife a teen-plaguer who surprised me by jumping out from a hollowed tree as I passed. This meant I was covered in disgusting black goo, a look and smell that definitely doesn’t lead to sexyfuntime. But I’m alive so I can’t complain too much.
Ian’s sleeping in, but when I heard Bob moving around this morning I woke up to make breakfast. The smiling old man and I splurged and each had a packet of the instant oatmeal I discovered in a camping trailer.

He asked, “How was the big Scavenging trip?” then coughed a little. His strength is back but the fever’s taken a lot out of him.

“Eh, It’s been worse but I really can’t remember when. I have a feeling we’re squatting in some well searched area. Last night turned up only one weeks worth of food and took six exhausting hours. Not really worth it. I say again, I need to go hunting.” Shrugging, I scraped the other half of my oatmeal into his bowl.

“Hey, hey young lady! You’re the one needing strength. I’m just lying in a closet, not fighting Deadheads.” He made a move like he was going to give it back but I dug an apple out of my pack and took a bite.

“You eat the soft stuff and I’ll eat the food your old man teeth can’t handle.” He laughed and said, “Speaking of teeth, there’s a lump on my cheek right here.” My pulse rose in alarm and I brought my finger up to feel where he was pointing to at the right of his mouth. Just as I was about to touch him, he snapped his teeth over at my hand and growled. I quickly pulled my finger back and squealed. “Bob! You scared the crap outta me!” He laughed for a few minutes before falling into a coughing spell.

“Serves you right for tricking me,” I laughed and he recovered his breath after a minute to say, “These chompers are all mine and if they got through thirty-five years of eating my wife Betsy’s awful cooking, they can chew a saddle to bits if need be.” He smiled proudly. I sure hope I live long enough to find someone I can lovingly complain about to young people. You know, if the human race survives and all.

I brought back tons of extra food for Jim though. I guess other people aren’t too hard up yet as to eat cat food. I tried it once. This was before the apocalypse, hey I was a curious kid. It tasted sort of  salty, sweet, and not bad really. Then the fishiness kicked me in the gut and I puked all over my friend’s kitchen floor. Never again. I’ll eat Jim before I eat any mystery meat cat food.

Last night, while we were hiking back and our everything was tired, Ian and I decided to go up to the hot springs this afternoon. I asked Bob if he wanted to come along but he said he didn’t want to be a third wheel. Which he never would be and I told him so but ultimately I couldn’t convince him otherwise.

So… bow chicka bowwow, it’s just us two..haha sorry that was so dorky. For now I’ve got a scary amount of body hair to take care of in preparation and I will write the glorious details when I get back.

Ps. I managed to find a few condoms! Yes!


It’s Ian’s turn to dig and I just had to get some of this shit out of my head and written down for my own mental health. I can’t even bring myself to say it out loud yet…

I’m so damn mad and crushed and just want to strangle something with my bare hands at the moment… They fucking murdered Bob!

All over ten cans of soup and a few packages of dry goods. We came back to find the armoire moved, the closet door open, and poor Bob’s face a beaten mess. It didn’t even look like he had the chance to fight back. What kind of evil fuck smashes an old man’s face in while he sleeps!

Hell, they could have easily just taken everything and left. No harm needed, but no, they couldn’t help themselves. I wish I’d been here so bad. If only I could turn back time to this morning and beg Bob to come with us. Not given him a chance to say no. He’d be alive now if I had. I wish I’d just stayed with him…

Before his body gave out, Bob wrote a warning of ‘safe camp’ on the drywall with his blood covered finger. Even on his deathbed he wanted to help and protect us. The tracks we found all go in the direction of the prison, for further damning evidence that it was them and not some other roving lunatics. These men made a grave mistake, because I know exactly where they sleep and they have no clue what kind of revenge I’m capable of. I will make them wish they were never saved from the plague. This apocalypse is a cakewalk compared to what my retribution will be like.

I plan to find that band of murderous Safety Camp men before they reach home and pull their esophagus’ out through their assholes…slowly.

But first, we’re going to give Bob a proper funeral. He deserves more, but a deep hole, loving words and a prayer or two are all we can do these days.

I don’t think I’ll ever find a better quality friend than Bob.

I loved you like a grandfather and a good friend.

Rest in peace, Bob…



Picture is written on by me but original print is Bloody Fingers by Maddagone on Deviant art.


  1. A minute’s silence for Bob 😦 I did not see that coming. At least not the circumstances surrounding his death anyway. Good on you for keeping the unpredictability alive. I really look forward to seeing where it goes from here.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well I’m only actually one ahead of you because I’ve been sidetracked from the apocalypse story. You’ve reminded me that I need to get back to it. So thank you and I’m happy to see you back in action! ☺


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