Day 5b

Damn, this bag's a lot heavier than I thought! I had planned to just walk like normal. I'd heard of a small town about a day northeast of me, and I was heading there to trade, rest, resupply. But it's just starting into evening now, and both of my shoulders are killing me. Tried switching the satchel from one to the other, so each could rest... didn't work as well as I'd hoped. So, I'm going to make camp early tonight, and rest. Tomorrow, I'll strap the satchel onto my backpack, and then pick up my pace to make it to that town by nightfall. Might make things more awkward if I have to fight, since I've spent time making my backpack as balanced as I can, but I ain't leaving this satchel behind if I can help it. There's too much value in it, and it could really help some folks out.

So, while I lay here, warm and toasty by the fire, full of roasted shrew and corn, I'll elaborate.

I've spent more time with Dyers, so I'll start with them. First thing: Ugly as sin. I've seen people retch and even throw up from their first sight of one. I can't really blame them, and I call some Dyers friends. They look like their name implies, like they started dying and they ain't done yet. Some people turn into Dyers, some young Dyers have kids. No matter which way it happens, it starts off about the same. First, their hair starts falling out, in big, random clumps. Then the skin starts growing lesions and boils, until they cover most of the body. Turns them either really red and inflamed-looking, or really pale. Either way, it's not pretty, and it's only the start. Sometime after that, their skin starts just falling off, often large chunks at a time, and it can sometimes take things like their nose or ears with it. After a while, they just start to look like a skeleton with just the muscle and tendon barely holding them together. At that point, their minds start to go, too. It begins with them losing their memories, and ends with them being little better than just predatory animals. And for some, it happens quicker than others.

But everything comes with a trade-off, I guess. The good part is, the whole process can take a while. A long while. I spent some time with a Dyer doctor who claims he was alive when the Cataclysm happened, and he said it was over a hundred years ago. He remembers when the bombs blew, the sky turning to red, then black as the ash and smoke covered everything. After that, he ducked into a hidden shelter, under the research lab where he worked.

According to him, the Dyer state is a mutation of an old disease, something called cancer. Before the Cataclysm, it apparently attacked the body by turning parts of it against itself, turning whole organs into cancer. One of its biggest causes was radiation, he said, but now we live in a world soaked in radiation, where a strong wind can make old light bulbs flicker to life. He said his research shows that a Dyer is almost nothing BUT cancer now. Like, they have every kind that used to exist, all at once. And that instead of killing them by shutting down an organ or two, all the cancers work together and hold each other together.

Or something like that, anyway. I've never been real good with things like that, and I'm trying to quote something someone told me about a year or so ago.

Day 5

Yeah, I skipped yesterday. Found an old building to scavenge from; I think it used to be a house. Pretty big one. A bit of rubble behind it and next to it looked like the remains of two more houses. So, I spent the day digging through for anything worthwhile. Found a blanket, couple usable tools, some clothes. Got some cans that I hope are food, but the labels are long rotted away. And, big jackpot, I found several guns and a good bit of ammo. Keeping one of the pistols for myself, and I can trade away the rest. Found a decent-sized satchel I can carry them all in, too, easy to drop if I need my hands free.

So, as I was saying, humanity is no longer alone. Or might be. It all depends on who you talk to. There's the cats, for example. Some people have never seen any at all. Others have seen some, but they don't believe stories of them being smart. Others, like me, know that there's something scary going on there.

Humanity itself has changed, too. Some'll tell you its diverged; others will say we've evolved. And still others will say that there are “abominations” walking around, who mock humanity's form and should be destroyed on sight. Me, I like to say humanity's diverged. I've met them, spoken to them, traded with them, worked with them. Radiation has soaked into our species, changing us, and there are different kinds of people now, all walking this wasteland together and trying to rebuild or just to survive.

There's plain-old humanity, regular people eking out a living, usually building farms and towns on top of the ruins of the old. Then there's the Dyers, people who can look anywhere from near-dead to decades-dead, and they often try to live underground where the sun can't reach their sensitive skin. And last are the Mutates: giant brutes, like the radiation made a person's muscles and bones half again normal size.

And then there's the Rad Witches. They can come from any of the others, really, but they're most common from plain-old humanity. I just don't know whether to consider them something separate, like the Dyers or Mutates. First, they're much rarer. Second, they seem just like anybody else, by appearance. What they can do, though, sets them apart. I'll have to think how to explain it, go into more detail later.

Day 3

Sorry, I got lost in memories. Life in the gangs isn't easy, but it's not really easier anywhere else in this blasted, wasted world we've inherited. It's dangerous, and it's harsh, and if you're not careful it'll strip away any joy you can take in what life can be had.

And humanity is not alone. Fully understanding that statement generally depends on who you talk to. 

Naturally, radiation has changed plants and animals, some more drastically than others. I'm not an expert or anything, but I've seen a few books and magazines, some pictures. Dogs seem pretty much the same, though without the same number or variety. Cats, on the other hand...cats are an entirely different story.

I've seen pictures of large cats, like lions. Even saw something about “bobcats”, saying that they used to live in the area. But it seems like they're all gone. The bigger problem is the housecat. They're a little bigger than in the pictures I've seen, but they're a LOT smarter. Most of the pictures show them just being sweet, cute pets. Sometimes with little captions, making jokes about them being uncaring, or smiling, or with bad speech. 

I've never seen one talk.

What I have seen is a nest, down in a basement bunker. Like, an actual armored, sealed bunker. Big steel door, lockable with a big wheel and a pair of turnbolts. Looked like about 20 people had lived in there when the Cataclysm happened. Some adults, some kids. Hard to tell if they were one family, or more, or what. 

The cats had gotten in. Every person inside was dead, shredded and torn, partly eaten. And the cats were there. It was dark, but my flashlight lit them up well enough, reflected off their eyes as they slowly advanced on me, growling. One big one just sat there on a table in the middle of the room, watching me.

I raised my gun, aiming for them and ready to fire. The big one just sat there, but he snarled in this high tone. And all the rest stopped moving. I'd swear it smiled at me. I backed out of the room, slowly, gun up. And as soon as I got through the door, I pulled two grenades, tossed them in, and I ran like my ass was on fire.

I already told you about the possums. I've never seen a deer, or heard of anyone else who has. Same with a bear, or any number of other things. Seen a couple foxes. Couple crawfish near a stream, not nearly so tiny as the old pictures. Seems most of what survived in this new world were creatures that lived mostly underground, or were smart enough to run for some kind of shelter.

Day 2

I'm kinda curious what things are like for you, when you're hearing this. You know, I wonder if it's...a month from now, a year from now...or if its decades or even a century, my body recovered half-buried in some form of ruins or cave or something. Mostly, I wonder how the world has changed, whether real crops grow somewhere; real cities may be built, or being built. Whether almost every animal you see still tries to kill you.

So, I was thinking this morning that I need to make sure you know what kind of world I'm living in now. I don't have anything planned or scheduled immediately, no jobs lined up. Plenty of food for while I wander.

Like I said, my name's Alex Gofer. A-L-E-X, G-O-F-E-R. I'm a little under six feet tall. About two hundred pounds or so. I've never been a massive guy, or a hugely muscular guy, but I've always kept fit. I grew up in a raider gang. Don't know if I was born by one of the women, found by them, stolen by them, or what. I don't remember anything that came before. Pretty much, the place was ruled by a mentality of “Me first, then the rest of the gang, and straight to hell with anyone else”. I hope I don't need to explain how hard it was to grow up there.

I was taught to read. Not everyone in the gang could, but they took the time to teach me. Seemed I was destined to be a scout for them, they saw that in me from early on. And it's kind of important to know the difference between seeing a pile of boxes marked Ammunition, and a pile of boxes marked Angel Statues, Ceramic.

They're the ones that named me Gofer. That was the only name I had, and it took them a while to start calling me that instead of “Hey you” or “C'mere, you little shit”. They never put me out in the front lines of the raids or ambushes. No, they gave me jobs like running messages, scouting buildings, looting bodies. Yeah, that last one was the worst. Sorting through bloody corpses, going through their pockets and bags with their empty eyes staring at you, through you. And knowing that they hadn't done anything more than have something that the gang wanted.