Dead Land Journal November 22nd 2027

Time: 20:03.
Date: 11-22-2027

For the sake of clarification I should start out by introducing myself. I'm Dr. Katherine Cooper. I'm sure James has mentioned me. We have been a constant thorn in one another's side since we met. I am making this journal entry on behalf of James Nash as requested by Mr. Fisher.

So I am sitting at this antique writing machine trying to figure out its operation.

We found James or to be more specific Mr. Parsons found him in the basement of a local house that was in the process of being swallowed by a sinkhole. After much difficulty he was retrieved from the hole he was lodged in. It took all the manpower available. The first obstacle was an infestation of the creatures James has dubbed "wraiths" to be dealt with. Mr. Parsons happily took care of them. His methods were crude but effective. Secondly a large chunk of concrete was resting on top of him. It was decided that it would be quicker and easier to break it up than to try to remove it whole. Mr. Fisher, who is surprisingly spry for a man of his advanced age and disability actually climbed down in the hole. He briefly surveyed the piece of concrete then drew an X on it with mud and told Mr. Parsons to hit it right there with a sledgehammer. The concrete shattered with the first blow. That was when we found the steel reinforcement rods running through his right leg. One above and one below the knee. Beverly and Pastor Tom were dispatched to the nearest hardware store for an appropriate power saw and extension cords. In the fifteen minutes they were gone Mr. Fisher and Mr. Parsons cleared as much rubble out of the way as they could without bringing more down on James. I stayed with him to monitor his condition.

The boy calling himself Scratch was dead at the scene. The cause of death was a massive head trauma. All of his internal organs were absent. But this occurred post -mortem. This phenomena has been described to me a couple of times but this is the first incident involving a human that has been seen.

The power saw made quick work of the steel bars, but the vibration caused the wounds to start bleeding again. During the extraction from the hole, James cried out only once and that was pathetically weak sounding.

In addition to the injuries to his leg, he has numerous small injuries and has suffered severe blood loss and hypothermia. I performed surgery on the leg to remove the steel bar and repair the arterial damage. The rod narrowly missed the saphenous nerve. Damage to this nerve would have caused severe loss of sensation in the leg. It was fortunate I was there, for had Mr. Parsons tried to remove the rods from James' leg it would have shredded the nicked femoral artery. As it was the bar was applying just enough pressure to slow the blood loss.

But what concerns me most is that James wants to die. The brief moments that he has awakened he has cried out to me to let him go and he has called out his dead wife's name numerous times. I have seen this too many times in the E.R.

I am going back to relieve Beverly as I have recruited her to watch James while I take a break.

Time 22:15

James is doing much better now. He is awake and his color has improved slightly. I credit his turnaround entirely to his adopted daughter Dee.

She was sitting on the edge of his bed babbling away happily when I came in and James was crying and smiling at the same time.

It should have been obvious to me. He must have thought Dee was dead. She was with him when fell into the hole in that basement. While there she encountered a trio of those beasts. She managed to hide under the basement stairs long enough for Scratch to find her. Scratch was looking for James to tell him that a small plane had been seen heading towards the local airport. Scratch grabbed Dee and physically threw her up the stairs. He could have easily escaped himself, but he chose to put himself in harm's way to rescue Dee. He shot one of the beasts before another attacked him from behind. Dee managed to escape by slamming the heavy wood door and running as fast as she could. She made it to James' motor home where she radioed for help. She was able to only give a vague description of her location. Fortunately she was able to see a firetruck protruding from a nearby house and eventually describe it to us. Mr. Parsons remembered seeing it while out foraging earlier this week. It did not take long to find her after that.

It took longer to bury Scratch than it did the Tudor girl. The ground is nearly frozen solid till you get down a couple of feet. Mr. Parsons made another elegant bronze headstone. He wished, as we all did that we could put Scratch's real name and maybe his birth date on it, but none of us ever knew it and he didn't have a wallet on him. That is not really too unusual now. I think the only one of us that still carries a wallet anymore is Mr. Parsons and it is chained too his belt. What use is cash, credit or ID anymore?

I expect James to make a full recovery. He will have to stay off his feet for a week or two. I am exhausted and my hands are not accustomed to using this primitive contraption. I wish James would use a computer or at least get an electric typewriter. I mean really, it's the 21st century Damn it!

I should have used the computer over in the clinic. But I have not been able to find the correct ink cartridge for the printer. I think I will just get another printer and hook it up.

That will be a pain in the ass.

Crap, I'm beginning to understand why he uses the typewriter now.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride