If you’re reading this, Eric...

I don't even know why I'm doing this. Habit, I guess. I've been keeping a diary since I was a little kid, and started keeping a blog years ago. It helps, I think, getting the words out onto paper... or a screen, in my case. God knows, this is a lot to cope with.

I wish I knew where you were.

I woke up this morning and you were already up. You'd pulled the suitcase out from the bottom of the closet and you were shoving things into it. Clothes, handfuls of underwear and socks, books, CDs, anything you could grab.

I remember I sat up in bed and I asked you what you were doing.

You looked up at me, and I remember how frantic you looked. You never look frantic. You're the calmest guy I know, with an answer for everything. I didn't know what was going on then, but that was the point when I realised it was something bad.

"Jake..." you started to say.

"Please don't tell me you're leaving me," I said. I know, I'm such a cliche. I was only half-joking.

"No," you said, "It's not that. We have to go. I'll explain later, but we need to go. Get dressed and pack what you need. Quickly, please."

The look in your eyes told me how serious you were. I got out of bed, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, and started packing things into my rucksack.  We both travel pretty light, so it didn't take long for us to get packed up. I followed you outside and there was an armored car sitting there.

A guy in military fatigues got out, saluted, and opened the door. I wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but you looked at me and shook your head. You told me to get in the car, said you'd explain later. 

I trusted you. I got in the car with my rucksack and sat there rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The military guy put the suitcase in the back, and you sat in the car next to me. As we drove off, you reached out and took my hand, and you promised that you'd explain soon.

The car took us to an office building. There was a briefing, serious-faced men and women talking about rates of infection and contingency plans. I understood maybe half of what they said. 

I know now that they were talking about zombies. Like we live in some cheesy 80s horror movie... goddamn zombies. That's not the word they were using, it was something like partially reanimated deceased persons, but I'm a film studies major, I know zombies when I see them.

You left the safe-house three hours ago, saying that you were going to find Alex and you'd be back soon. An hour, you said. 

I wonder how long I should wait. I suppose eventually I'll need to leave too. Please come back soon.

I'll be waiting. You still owe me that explanation, after all.

I love you.

Jake.