Chapter 1-Reillyās account.
People always said that I was quiet. Apparently I talk too little. But Iād rather talk too little than too much. Besides, not that it matters much at this point, when thereās only the five of us. David says every morning that weāre going to run into someone eventually, but itās been eight months and counting. At this point, itās all the more water for us, I guess.Ā
The journaling was Cassās idea. I guess she had kept a diary for longer than all of us. If nothing else, itās good to keep a record of our existence. For archaeologists or whatnot. But I donāt think there are any left. Damn.Ā
Thatās interesting to think about, isnāt it? There are probably no more archaeologists. Well, at least David is preserving the age-old art of bullshit. Not to say I donāt like the guy. Heās a nice person, if incompetent. The band was his idea in the first place- him and Carsonās.Ā
I guess they dreamed of stardom or something. Valerie went along with it, obviously, sheās Davidās best friend. I wanted to do something with my musical qualifications, and Cassandra came along because sheās just like that. Sheās so supportive of everything we do. I wish I could have been like that. Plus, it helped that her dad owned a junkyard. So we got this old ice cream van fixed up- David thought it would be funny at the time and he wouldnāt give over about it- and we set sail for the high seas. We got a few gigs in some bars and the like, but it was obvious to everyone that weād never make the big time, or anything close to it. I donāt think thatās how the expression goes, but I canāt remember and I donāt really care.Ā
I found a corpse in an old shack today. She looked sick and clammy, with sunken cheeks. Impaled on the mattress springs. I couldnāt figure out what had killed her. There was water in some of the pipes in there, but not much. And a live potted plant. Just this little pathetic daisy thing. I took it back and Carson flipped out because we couldnāt have another mouth to feed. But Valerie said it couldāve been the last one ever, and she gave him the stare that always makes him back down. She has these sharp green eyes that usually look kind of glazed over because sheās always thinking. None of us really know what sheās thinking about.
The ice cream van is kind of funny in a way. Because weāre dying of heatstroke out here. You canāt even stand still out in the open for too long or your bare skin bubbles up into these huge horrible blisters that are so tough you canāt pop them with a knife, you have to actually saw into them. The others hate going outside, but honestly, I love it. Itās vast, and empty, and I can run for as long as I want in any direction and Iām not likely to find anything. Anything at all.
and Iāve written way more than I thought I would have. I guess I had more to say than I ever thought. Iām going to write more some other day. But I have to do this at night, and usually I just fall asleep straight away. Iāll see you. Keep yourself safe, I think.
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