January 31st

This is Jimmy Varn and I, unlike Mr. Corbin, I am still alive.

The skies opened up and rain is just pouring. I took the empty barrel that Chuck had and put it outside. I figure I could collect rain water and purify it. The faucets are still running but I want to use them as little as possible.

I went looting this morning and found another survivor. Well, I found his poisoned and reanimated corpse. He was wondering around his attic and I could hear him as soon as I walked into the house. I found the attic stair and blew him away with two pistol shots.

His footprints showed that he just walked in circles up there for God knows how long.

His name was Victor Corbin and I know this because I found his diary. He had been up there for two weeks before deciding to overdose on sleeping pills and whiskey. I figure he blew himself away the same day after I started blogging. Damn dude, you could have held it together a little longer, you know?

Victor had some interesting entries. He mentions hearing something from the Speaker of the House on his radio. He writes a little about how New York City was quarantined. Ha, Snake Pliskeen better watch out.

Mostly though, Victor writes about how he was alone and afraid. He doesn’t have any weapons and all he hears for the first week are gunshots. He writes about his son in Texas that he can’t reach. Victor wrote a lot about how little food he has.

He also wrote about his dog that he had to kill with a shovel. Damn, I had been wondering about pets and apparently Victor’s dog, Smoke, got bitten by something and then died. Smoke came back to life while Victor was digging a grave. Lucky for Victor, he had a shovel to brain the dog. Unluckily for Victor, it looks like his dog dying a second time was too much for him.

The next two entries is him being depressed. He apologizes about a store he used to steal from when he was a kid. He apologizes for cheating on his taxes. He apologizes for not wanting to live.

All of his stuff was in his attic. It looked like he felt safer here. There is a blanket, two cans of food and some water in a jug that looks way too dirty to mess with. Lord knows where it came from.

But there was one thing Victor had in abundance and I took it all. The man had porn. It was fetish magazines of legs and stockings but it had women and they were partially naked. Best of all, they were women, which is all I cared about. I found a garbage bag and double bagged them so they wouldn’t get wet on my wheel barrel.

After the rain had stopped, I went back to bury Victor. Shit, I hadn’t buried the Girl Screamer but I didn’t know her. The grave isn’t finished yet, not by a long shot, but it seems like the right thing to do. I’ll finish it after lunch.