YVONNE’S

DAY 1

NAME: YVONNE RIDGES

BIRTHDAY: JANUARY 16

AGE: 20

JOB: TASKMASTER

POSITION: TREASURER/SECRETARY

October 3rd,

I would say that today started out like any other day, but it didn’t. I woke up hella late, was roped into buying the food for my Mom’s birthday, and had to rush with my siblings to set decorations up, all before two o’clock. It was all worth it, though, when I saw the smile on her face. Today, my family had gathered to celebrate the fifty-second birthday of my Mother. 

It lasted two-and-a-half hours. 150 minutes filled with laughter and comradery. It lasted, until that damn news broadcast interrupted the movie we had all sat down to watch. 

I remember every word. After all, it signaled the start of Armageddon. I’ll summarize it for whoever will read this.

Six months ago, a pharmaceutical company, with funding from some big wigs, had created a serum that sped up the production of disease fighting cells and the time it took for them to fight of viruses and such. Doctors swore it was a God send.  

Except for the fact that it had not been cleared for use by the FDA.

The company and the funds-men were not okay with waiting, and began to ship the product out to their doctor friends to use on patients. They had wanted to make their money back, and make the FDA look bad for holding back mass production of what they felt was the modern day penicillin.

If only they had waited. In the next six months, the company sent more serum to their friends. Those friends, wanted a little profit on the side, so they sold it to other doctors. And that pattern went on like a well oiled machine. Until reports of cannibalism and living people decomposing, began to roll in from Florida. 

Authorities handled the situation, and everyone thought that it was over. That is until this afternoon, when two of the company’s CEOs were found crouched over the rotted and bitten bodies of the funders. Soon after, the FDA released a statement.

The super drug had been denied production on the bases of some article or another. The main thing was that the cells were producing too fast, and that the overproduction of these sped up cells had mutated them, to the point that they were killing all cells. Skin, brain, and even themselves. It was advised that those who had the shot to “handle the situation”, as a drug to reverse the effects was not made.

In the very family room I sit in now, my usually loud and boisterous family had gone bone chillingly quiet. The matriarch of the family silently stood. Her ebony face was ashen, her wrinkled hands were clasped behind her, and she had a resigned air about her. She stated in a voice that could command legions, “All of those who have had the shot, stand.” At first there was no movement. Then my oldest cousin, a mother of four, stood. Next my oldest sister stood. Four more cousins, one aunt and uncle, and finally, my mother, stood. The matriarch nodded; “We all know what has to be done. If you don’t have the guts to do it, then you need to leave. Immediately.” 

Hugs started. Whispered “I love you’s” echoed in the room. Tears flowed freely and without reserve. Mothers held their children in embraces so tight, bones were poping. It would be the last time that we, as a united family, would be together. My uncle told a joke that received a few chuckles, but those people quickly sobered.

When everyone was finished, a few walked out the backdoor with the Matriarch. The rest piled into one SUV and one car and left, never looking back. I looked around at who was left: my older sister, two older cousins, me, four teenage cousins, and four babies. Everyone, except for the babies, were despondent. I suggested that everyone eat, take a bath, and bunker down for the night.

 While that was going on, I looked over our supplies, bathed, and we assigned watch duty. I took the 1-2 shift, with one of the younger cousins. I found this notebook earlier, and I have decided to keep a journal of what happens on this journey. I will also be making lists of things we need, potential places to live, everyone’s roles, and everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, in the back of it.

My mother always joked that I was the most anal of all her kids. Thinking about it puts a smile on my face. That is, until I hear the sniffling. My cousin is silently weeping in her corner. It wrenches my heart, and makes this surreal situation almost tangible. 

  I glance at the wall clock. It’s one-fifty. I motion to him, my cousin, to wake up those that have the next shift. A siren is sounding off in the distance. Church bells are ringing. It has begun. We move at four. Good night and Pax Vobiscum. 

END OF DAY 1

STATUS: ALL ACCOUNTED FOR (MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY)

SUPPLIES: PASSABLE; COLLECTING MORE TOMORROW

THING YOU’LL MISS THE MOST: HOT WATER

A GOOD MEMORY: WATCHING THE STARS WITH MY OLDER SIBLINGS WHEN I WAS YOUNG