What’s up, guys. I’ve got another round of entries for you, and a few more bits of detail.
I’m convinced I’m being pranked or something, because Techie got curious and decided to poke around the laptop. Remember how I said it looked like Henry worked for some kind of logistics company? Well Techie was able to get into his email application. Most of it was kind of useless, but check out some of these experts from his messages.
- Due to the recent annexation of Wisconsin into Canada, all operations within the former state are to cease immediately. All offices should practice burn protocols before officials can intercept confidential information.
- Good news! Exetti is proud to announce that the Pacific Union is finally open to allowing American companies to operate in their borders. California alone has a demand for fresh water imports that surpasses the other states combined. We look forward to a profitable quarter!
- Due to civil unrest, any and all employees operating in the Republic of China are to evacuate the country as soon as possible. Exetti is working tirelessly with local officials to ensure the safety of all of our workers, so please be sure to comply with any instructions given by the recognized government.
Unless you know absolutely nothing about global events, I don’t need to tell you why none of this makes any sense.
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February 27, 2026
I’ll tell you something my dad told me when he took me hunting for the first time. I was scared, didn’t want to kill a deer, thought it was cruel to just hurt another living thing for fun. When I said this to my dad, he looked me in the eye and he told me; “Henry, we don’t kill animals because it’s fun or pleasant, anyone who does it just for fun is sick in the head. We hunt to eat, and to make sure there aren’t so many deer that they run out of food and starve. Like a wolf or a tiger, you kill something to eat it. We hunt because it’s part of nature, not because you like to see something suffer.”
To this day I have not heard of a single animal that hunts other animals for fun. I’ve seen wild life torn up by coyotes, bob cats, pecked over by other small critters. But today was the first time I saw an animal killed by another without so much as a bite taken out of it.
The buck was young, still had a small set of antlers when most of the other male deer had shed theirs by now. It had deep lacerations along the flank, like it was dragged down by a predator. That was where anything familiar ended, if it was just those wounds I might not have thought too much of it. But it was the killing blow along the neck that scared me. It looked like a bite mark, but it wasn’t anything I had ever seen. It wasn’t the usual group of deep puncture wounds from a beasts teeth. Instead the wounds were several straight lines that spread out along the flesh, almost in an X like pattern.
“Might have been two.” Marshal said as I poked at the deer’s carcass. “Both went for the throat, brought it down at once.”
“Then why didn’t they eat it?”
“Maybe it was sick, maybe the rain poisoned it and he tasted bad.”
I shook my head and stood up, looking around for tracks or some sign of what might have done thins, but there was nothing. You could see the trail the buck left as it darted through the woods, but not what was chasing it.
I swear something followed us the way home, I could hear it in the brush. Marshal said it was the wind, that he didn’t see anything and I was being paranoid. If you ask me, he isn’t paranoid enough.
February 28, 2026
It’s been a week we’ve been up in this cabin, a week since the rain came and washed away the city and everything around it. I got used to how quiet it was, but it wasn’t until today that I realized how eerie the quiet has become. No planes in the sky, no sounds of traffic coming from down the hill, I thought I would see some sign of human life by now. There’s no way that we’re the last two people on Earth, right? There’s gotta be others out there.
Marshal and I decided we aren’t staying for much longer. I’m gonna make sure I enjoy the time I have to say my goodbyes to what is left of my family.
February 29, 2026
Finally, we finally heard from other people! The voice on the TV might have been some computer spitting out a script, but it was good to hear a new voice after so long. We had been turning on the TV and the radio every day, flipping channels just to see if we picked anything up. Finally, on one of the local stations, there was a message that played. It was a map of the area, with a big spot marked “Refugee Camp”, and telling people to meet there for support and supplies. It’s a good bit east of here, so we’re going to make sure we have everything in order before we go. Food, water, gasoline, the like. We would leave now, but it’s almost sunset, and they made it very clear not to travel at night.
February 30, 2026
It was past midnight when we heard the scratches at the door. Now, I grew up with dogs and cats, and scratches at the door were nothing new to me. In fact, my first instinct when I heard it was to go and open the door to let whatever it was in. That only last for a split second, and I was practically on my rear as quick as I stood up.
“Damn it, Henry.” Marshal had woken up from my fall backwards, did he even notice the scratching?
“Shh!” I snapped, pointing towards the door. The noise was growing louder, faster, and the door knob was starting to shake as something on the other side fumbled around with it. In my mind, I was picturing what there could have been on the other side of that door. Some kind of monster? Demon? Alien? Did it look human? But while I was on my ass and daydreaming, Marshal was taking walking towards the door.
“Probably just a dog that wants in. Might be nice to see friendly face.”
Still yawning, he went over and peeked through the curtain of the window by the door. That was when the scratching stopped.
“Don’t see anything.” he said, giving a shrug. And that idiot, that damn fool went and opened the door. There was nothing on the other side, and Marshal took a step out onto the porch.
“C’mere boy! Or… girl!” He started whistling and patting his knees like he was trying to call in a faithful hound. But no, not me. I reached for the .22 we kept by the door, trying to bring him inside for a change.
“Damn it! They said to stay in at night!”
“They probably just don’t want people getting lost in the dark. Why are you so jumpy for a change?”
“How can you not be?” I looked at him like he just sprouted a second head, ready to tear into him for being careless, how we only got each other left and we just watched the impossible happen not a week ago.
But I never got the chance.
Marshal fell to his stomach as his leg was yanked out from under him, and he shouted as he was dragged into the night by something strong.
“Marshal!” It might have been stupid, but I wasn’t thinking. I charged in after him, following the sounds of him screaming in the night and following the drag trail he left behind. It was dark, but the full moon made it a bit easier to navigate.
“I’m coming! I’m coming!”
It was awkward to run with the rifle, and every second I felt like he was getting further, his screams getting just a little quieter. Maybe if I dropped the gun I would be able to catch up, but then what? Just start punching whatever is able to drag a grown man through the woods this fast?
He got quieter, and quieter, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was getting further away or if he losing strength. And just where the Hell was I? I couldn’t recognize any of my surroundings! It was dark, and I wasn’t even paying attention to where I was going.
But then, I could hear Marshal more clearly, he wasn’t moving anymore and I was getting closer.
“Henry! Henry!” He sounded less scared now. “I think it’s gone, I’m over here!”
And sure enough, there he was. Laying in the middle of a small clearing, the pajama pants he were were all torn up and a hefty bit of blood soaked whatever fabric was still clinging to the garment. I rushed over and set the rifle down as I looked at the wound. It was bad, skin all tore up with a bunch of cuts and puncture wounds all over. I hoped that wasn’t bone I was seeing. Whatever had dragged him out here had claws or teeth in him deep.
“What happened?”
“Don’t know.” He managed to grunt. “Something got a hold of me and started running. Let go of me and left me here.”
Marshal hissed and cried out as he tried to move his leg.
“Quit it! You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“I’m already hurt, damn it!”
I really, really wanted to rub it in his face, tell him what an idiot he was for opening the door and going outside at night after everything we saw. But now wasn’t the time… later, when he was patched up.
“Can you get up at all? It’s a bit of a ways back to the cabin, but I might be able to bring the-“
Something interrupted me, and caused my body to freeze. A cracking tree limb right behind me. I looked up at Marshal, face white as sheet from terror or blood loss or both. Without looking back, I grabbed the rifle and made sure the safety was off. I turned slowly, just as I heard something start to charge, and it let out a roar that sent my ears ringing.
I whipped around and started shooting at the dark mass in front of me. I only saw the vague shape of a creature, and three yellow eyes, coming at me.
We both screamed, and I watched as the beast stumbled back for a brief moment.
Now, for those of you who don’t know, a .22 is basically a pop gun. We use them to hunt rabbits and squirrels, it’s not exactly a powerful round but it should have done a lot more than just make this thing flinch.
It looked dazed, or maybe it just lost any sense of urgency. It walked up slowly, and I got a good look at the thing’s head. Black, leathery, like it was wet. It almost looked like a big cougar, but it had those three eyes. One right on top of it’s snout. And it’s mouth? Jesus, it looked more like a bug or a squid than anything else. Four jaws, or mandible might be the word, that opened up to show a bunch of hooked and jagged teeth as it snarled at me.
“Shoot it! Shoot it! Shoot it!”
Marshal snapped me out of my shock, and I raised the rifle up to pull the trigger. Once, twice, then the unmistakable click of a spent gun.
I saw some kind of fluid spit up out of it’s jaw, and it snarled or hissed or whatever you want to call that noise. It snapped at me one more time, then it skulked off.
We both sat there in the moonlight for a moment before Marshal stood up.
“Your leg…”
“I’m not gonna wait for it to heal.”
I couldn’t argue, but I did help him limp his way back to the cabin. The entire time, I was just praying those things didn’t hunt in packs.
“What do you think that was?” Henry asked through his wheezes.
I didn’t answer, I didn’t want to think about it.
When we got back to the cabin, I dressed his leg best I could with the first aid kit. I’m no doctor, but it was better than nothing. Some bandages, rubbed it with alcohol, then we had to make the choice between waiting for sunrise or getting the Hell out of dodge. Truthfully I was ready to camp out by the door with the rifle and let Marshal rest for the night. But his leg wasn’t just bleeding, it was oozing something green and awful smelling. If I had any hope that he would last the night, I would have waited until the sun came up.
So we’re headed out now, no idea when I’m gonna have the chance to charge my laptop again, so in case I don’t make it and you find this log, I hope you’re fairing better than we are.