Dead Land Journal October 7th 2027

Katherine put a rush on all the blood tests she ran. She is efficient I'll give her that. She found no signs of bacterial or viral infection and she said my cancer counters were around 30, so she said that cancer was pretty much ruled out. She wants me to monitor my blood sugar too. Gave me a glucose meter and a bunch of test strips. Beverly walked in while I was trying to get up the nerve to stick myself with the lancet. She told me to toss the antique Katherine gave me and found a better one at a local drugstore. She said that the only way to extract a blood sample more painfully would be to pound it out with a rock. I don't know whether Katherine is this sadistic with all her patients or if I'm a special case.

Dee misses having Katherine in the Uni when we are on the road, but Katherine does not trust anyone else to drive the clinic bus. She insists it's necessary.

There is a big debate raging today about where we are going. Billy wants to go to to Mississippi, Jewels wants to go to Texas. People are starting to choose up sides and it is starting to get ugly. I am going to have to decide soon just to put a stop to it. I think a third option would be best so neither side thinks I am siding with the other.

The ones that have not yet encountered the wraiths want to settle in a city somewhere, and I can see the logic there. There will be enough canned food available to last for several years and with careful management of resources we could even have a house with full power. But I don't think it would be wise. Those things seem to infest cities. I don't know why.

Right now we are camped in a circle in a Wal-Mart Supercenter parking lot. Wal-Marts are great for camping. We can restock on food and supplies and the parking lots are usually big enough for all of us. And if we park out a ways from the store where the parking lot is empty, we can normally see if anything approaches. Reminds me of those old westerns where the Conestoga wagons would be circled around a big campfire.

It's small Wal-Mart, but Morrilton, Arkansas is a small town, but a metropolis compared to London. We were going to camp there tonight, but London hosts Arkansas Nuclear One. Arkansas oldest and ,until about five years ago, only nuclear power plant. I read somewhere that most nuclear power plants are fully automated now and could run quite well with no human attendants until its fuel was depleted. Yeah. We stayed just long enough to gas up. Morrilton is about thirty miles southeast of London, a more comfortable distance from the fifty year old nuclear power plant.

It's cold tonight so we have a fire going. Jewels was giving Dee lessons on the fine art of roasting marshmallows a while ago, but Billy kept letting his catch on fire. Dee would clap and giggle when he did and I'll have to admit that I laughed a bit too when the burning marshmallow fell off the stick and into his lap.

At least Mike has stopped smoking those cigars. Katherine harped at him constantly about it, and Jewels told him it was a disgusting habit. But the person that got him to quit was Dee. She was up sitting in his lap a couple of nights ago but when he pulled out one of his cigars. She said "Those things make you stink!" and got down. He looked ashamed and put the cigar away. the next day he threw the remaining box into the fire. Thankfully this was after supper. A box of burning cigars produces a less than appetizing aroma. He does not seem to have been too terribly hooked on them, but I have caught him eyeing Billy's Camels a couple of times.

It's just started raining. I will go out and see if Jewels and Mike want to sleep in the Uni. When the weather is good Jewels often sleeps in his truck with the windows rolled down a bit. He likes the fresh air, but lately with the weather getting colder he has been sleeping more often in one of beds in the Uni.

I tucked Dee in just before settling down here to write this. I asked her if my typewriter bothered her and she said she likes the sound.

Looks like there's a fight starting up outside better go put a stop to it.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride