Hey guys, I’m back again with an update from my last post.
My friend, we’ll just call him Techie, he managed to salvage the next few document in the folder. It seems like a bunch of Henry’s journals, but he’s been really trying to figure out where the laptop came from. It just runs on the latest version of Windows, so nothing special there. He’s never heard of the manufacturer, and he’s not getting any helpful answers from his usual forums. Maybe it was custom made by this Exetti company? But we can’t find anything about them either! I thought they might be some top secret group hired by the government, but then why would they have a phone number on the case? And not even leave it password protected? Why is the internal clock set for three years from now? It just doesn’t make a lot of sense, and I’m starting to feel like this is all some elaborate prank.
Someone suggested that if I can’t find a Henry Jones, I look for his wife or his kid. No dice there, though. I couldn’t find a Victoria Jones in Austin, at least not one married to a Henry. Likewise, no news or record of a Stanley Jones being born to a Henry and Victoria in that area within the last few years. But I’m really only looking through Facebook and local news sites for my research, not exactly a professional investigation. Still, I thought I would find something.
Anyway, here’s the next set of documents we could get to open. I had to hand type this all myself since transferring the files is impossible, so you’re welcome guys.
Oh, and Henry, on the off chance you’re reading this, message me and I’ll get the computer back to you. And sorry for messing with your stuff, I guess.
_______
February 22, 2026
The rain, if you want to call it that, is still pouring over the city. It’s three in the morning and it won’t stop. I know, I’ve been awake ever since it started, I still hear it echoing from miles out. After we watched the whole damn city just melt away, we tried to make sense of what we saw. Marshal thought maybe there was some bad mold in the cabin that was making us hallucinate, but would we see the same thing? And you can’t explain away his eye. It’s burned, burned real bad, and he can’t see out of it. I tried to turn the TV on to see if there was anything on the local news, but there was no signal.
“It’s the storm.” I said, not sure if I even believed myself. “The dish is always out in a storm.”
I spent the rest of the night trying to get through to anyone. I must have called my wife a hundred times to never even get through. I tried 911 after that, but no luck. It eventually just turned to me scrolling through my contacts list and calling everyone on there, but it didn’t do a damn thing.
Marshal passed out, somehow. Lucky him, I guess. I almost fell asleep around 2 AM, but it sounds like some wounded animal is dying outside the cabin. Poor thing.
We’re gonna head out in the morning, assuming the rain stops. I should try to sleep, even if just a minute or two. Maybe I’ll wake up and this was all some dream.
Nope. Still here. And the city isn’t. The rain is gone, though. Still that green overcast, but the air is still. And it’s got that sick, sulfur like smell that hit me before the animals started dropping.
The truck is a bit torn up, but it starts just as good. I’m going to go find my family.
February 23, 2026
There’s a picture that stuck out in my mind. My high school history teacher was covering World War II, and he knew that us boys thought it was all fun from the movies we watched and video games we had played. But he wanted to let the reality of war really sink in. He showed us pictures of European cities after the Germans had bombed them. He showed us before and after images of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Then he told us to imagine standing in the middle of our home town, in front of our houses, not a care in the world. Then we blink, and after our eyes open, there’s nothing left, to imagine what it would be like to lose everything and everyone you loved in an instant.
Well, Mr. Woods, I don’t need to imagine anymore.
We left first thing yesterday morning. There was almost nothing left standing as we drove down from the hills, the rain had eaten away at damn near everything that was standing. Trees, cars, buildings, people… at least I think the bits of cloth laying on the side of the road used to be worn by people. Somehow, be it a miracle or something else, the ground was dry. No mud, not even a puddle. That sulfur smell was still in the air, except now it was joined by something sour and foul. Like the smell of road kill. It was quiet as first, but as you drive by the storm drains you could hear the heavy sound of running water, just like any other time it stormed.
I drove the truck leaving Marshal to gawk out the window and point out what every pile of rubble used to be.
“That was the pool house I used to sneak into. That there was a diner I’d get breakfast at. I think that deli was where I had my first kiss.”
“Would you just knock it off!?” I snapped, slamming my fist on the wheel. “Try to look out for anyone, there could be people trapped out here!”
I didn’t need to look over at Marshal to know he was giving me pity eyes. “Henry, I don’t know if we’re gonna find anyone out here.”
“Course we’re gonna! We’re fine, ain’t we?”
“We were miles out of the way! And we’re not exactly fine, I lost my damn eye! You still got burns all over your cheek, and that was just from a few drops! Look at what a whole fuckin’ storm did!”
I slammed on the breaks, I clenched the steering wheel and looked down at my white knuckles before I willed myself to raise my gaze. The whole time I was driving, I was pretending things hadn’t gone to shit. Imagining that the remains of my neighborhood were the familiar landmarks, or just pretending I was somewhere else all together. But Marshal reminded me that no, this was my home. Or what’s left of it, anyway.
“I’m sorry, Henry.” Marshal said with a sigh. “Let’s get you to your family, they’re gonna need our help.”
He smiled at me when he said that, the same smile he gave when he told me our dog would be fine, that the vet was going to fix him after he was run over. And the same smile he gave me after I buried that pup in the back yard.
I was on a sort of auto pilot the rest of the drive over. Neither of us said anything until we got to my street. That was when I stopped the truck and I started bawling.
The buildings, the homes that my friends and neighbors lived in, there was almost nothing but the foundation left. I got out and ran to my home, the two story house caved in, just a bit of the north wall left.
“Tori! Stan!” I kept shouting their names, digging through planks and bits of drywall, hoping that I would find them holding each other, maybe a little beat up but still alive. I must have turned every bit if ruin over half a dozen time, till my hands were bloody any my arms gave out.
All I could find was Stanley’s stuffed toy, that talking dog character he loved, all chewed up and stuffing coming out of the side. An hour later, I found my wife’s ring in the rubble that used to be the front porch, next to the scraps that I think were the blouse she wore that morning.
February 25, 2026
This is the first time I did anything but lay in the bed and cry. Marshal tried to get me to eat something but I just spat the can of soup back up. I’ve been holding onto Stanley’s toy like I was some kid and fidgeting with Tori’s ring. But Marshal damn near dragged me to my feet himself and put a granola bar in my hand. Shouted at me until I took a bite and didn’t spit it back up.
I buried the toy and the ring by the cabin, that day. I was going to hold onto them, but it just didn’t seem right not to give them a proper burial. And if I couldn’t find them, then I had to do the next best thing and let go of what I had left of my wife and my son. As I was digging the grave for the closest thing I had to my families remains, Marshal came out with his wallet in his hands, and took a picture out, ready to toss it in the hole. It was him, and his boyfriend James, sitting on a beach somewhere on the Gulf Coast drinking bushwhackers.
James. Shit. I felt a bit ashamed that I hadn’t even stopped to consider that I wasn’t the only one of us that lost a partner. I looked up to where the city skyline used to be, replaced now by piles of rubble that spilled into the river. I thought about offering to go and try to find James, but they had an apartment downtown. We both knew the truth.
“I was gonna ask him to marry me, ya know.” He said, voice hoarse as if he had been busy doing his own crying.
“I know.” I said, sniffling. “Helped you look for the ring, dummy.”
We shared a bit of a laugh, then we said a prayer, for whatever good that would do.
I spent the rest of the day just trying to stay busy, just trying to function. I cleared the dead animals away from the cabin, and noticed a few were already gone. I guess a cat or dog might be lurking around here. Later, I took stock of what all we have. We got enough food and water for a few days, and some ammo to hunt for food if anything worth shooting is still alive. There’s a stream a few minutes out, but I don’t trust drinking from it, even if we boil it down first.
We don’t know what we’re going to do, but we both know we gotta move on at some point.
February 26, 2026
We’re not alone out here. Marshal says it was just a coyote or some dog that got loose and hid from the rain. Might have been dark, but I know what I saw, what I heard. What kind of coyote’s got three eyes? What fucking dog makes a sound like that?