Dead Land Journal May 19th 2027

I woke this morning to thick humid breath in my face. I opened my eyes to a large black snout just millimeters from my nose. In my fevered state I was barely able to sit up let alone stand, yet I found the strength to jump out of bed and grab my gun. I stumbled to the floor by the bed, but still managed to hold onto the gun and keep it pointed in the general direction of the intruder. A pair of large brown eyes stared back at my from a rather blockish canine head. It took me a moment to recognize her.

She had filled out a bit since the last time I had seen her and there were a fresh pair of scars running down one side of her face. But it was the same Rottweiler I had released at the pound. She stood on the bed just staring at me with her head cocked to one side. When she did not attack I relaxed somewhat.

I lowered the gun and waited a moment. She calmly laid down on the bed looking at me. I collapsed back into the bed not really expecting to wake up again.

I'm afraid I let the infection in my leg get a little out of hand. By the 12th it was so bad I thought I was going to have to cut my own leg off. I limped into the Walgreen's at Lees Summit and 23rd Street. But I don't think the Penicillin I found was working. The infection just got worse.

I remembered watching an old rerun of a medical drama that ran back in the 90's. One of the doctors used maggots to clean out an badly infected wound. The maggots they used were bred and grown in a clean lab. I did not have that luxury. There was a covered deck out back with a picnic table on it. I placed a piece of lunch meat from fridge there and waited for a while. When I came back there were a few neat clusters of tiny yellow eggs. I scraped them off onto the wound and carefully bandaged it with a thick gauze. I hoped that this would work. For the first day nothing. The infection got worse. But then, I don't know if it was my imagination or what, but I could feel them wiggling around under that bandage. I resisted every impulse to rip the bandage off and wash them away. On the third day my fever was worse, so I carefully removed the bandage to clean the wound. I was surprised that the wound looked better. The edges were less red and puffy.

The maggots had become big and fat feasting on the dead tissue of my leg. I washed most of them away but saved a few to finish the job.

That was yesterday. I think. The last few days have been a bit hazy, The only thing I am sure of is today's date. When I woke up this evening after my encounter with the Rottweiler my fever had broke. I was weak drenched with sweat. I removed the bandage and cleaned the last of the maggots away and put a fresh layer of gauze on it.

The dog followed me around the whole time. She was wearing a collar with a little silver tag dangling from it. I had not seen it before but I was not really looking that close. She came to me as I sat on toilet seat and laid her head in my lap. She was filthy and stank like a Chinese restaurant dumpster in July. I scratched her behind the ears anyway. She closed her eyes and let out a very human sounding sigh of contentment. Her tag read "Emily" Certified Therapy Animal. I still wonder how she came to be in the pound.

"Well Emily, if you are going to stick around, you are going to have to get a bath." I told her. She glanced over at the tub and then at me as if to say, 'Not today Buddy.' She was right. I am too wiped to do anything. Making this journal entry has exhausted me. I did lay out some dog food I found in the pantry. I wonder what happened to the Meier's dog. That was the name of the couple that lived here. Don't know if I have mentioned that. There were all the signs that they had owned a dog. A bed, bowl, dog food and a even some pictures of the Meier's and a big Golden Retriever. But no dog.

For the first time since the disappearance I think I will sleep good tonight.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride

All 2 Year Olds Are Neurotic

After helping to raise my nephew and now watching my own children develop I have come to the conclusion that once a child turns two, he or she turns into a neurotic mess.

When my nephew turned two he suddenly discovered a obsessive compulsive aversion to getting his hands dirty. He would go ballistic if so much as molecule of foreign material stuck to his hands. Finger painting (previously a favorite activity) was now out of the question.

My son is deathly afraid of fans. For him the attic fan is the Dread King of all malevolent rotary blade air circulators. The attic fan is directly over their bedroom door in the hallway. It does not even have to be on to invoke fear. So getting in and out of his room is like running a gauntlet. He also hates getting his hands dirty. Not to extent of his cousin, but it is compounded by a dire fear of baths.

My daughter is afraid of bugs in any form. She will come completely unglued at the sight of an insect that I would need a magnifying glass to even see. But she loves to play outside. She is not afraid of fans, but the vacuum cleaner terrifies her. She is afraid of the dark, but won't sleep unless she has her head burrowed under a quilt so thick that no light less than that of supernova intensity would penetrate.

I'm told that it only gets worse.

Dead Land Journal May 10th 2027

I think the solitude is getting to me. It is not so bad during the day. Or maybe it is I don't know. During the day I know no fear. My emotional numbness seems more complete than ever. It is like a vast dead spot in my soul.

I wrecked a motorcycle three days ago. Came around a curve too fast and found a car in the street where it should not have been. Laid the bike down and skidded under the car on my butt. Scraped up my leg pretty bad. The bike is toast. My heart rate did not even jump. But a few nights ago while watching the sun go down I felt fear. Even as a child I was never really afraid of the dark, at least not that I can remember. But I was in a near panic. I went through the house turning on all the lights. I made sure that every corner was illuminated. I knew this was a drain on the batteries and that scared me even more. During the day my fears seem distant like it is not even me. But still I went out to Lowes a got a couple of generators. From there I went to Tractor Supply Company and got a 50 gallon tank for storing gas.

I have never been a gun fanatic, but I did own a gun before Lisa and I got married. A little .22 Beretta. Lisa said it was "cute". I got it after I was mugged for a third time in KC. I have used it twice to scare off would be muggers. But I don't think could kill anyone with it. Not unless they were willing to sit stock still so I could get a round in through their eye. I sleep with a gun within easy reach on the nightstand. I have several now. And none of them would ever be classified as "cute".

I think my leg has gotten infected.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride

Dead Land Journal May 6th 2027

I have moved again.

I was cruising round town in a little Smart ForTwo. The little Smart is small enough to maneuver around the wrecks most of the time and has a little more cargo room than a motorcycle. I was out gathering food. I don't do grocery stores. The last one I was in, the odors from the meat and frozen foods sections had permeated the entire store. Maybe this winter it will be ok to venture in but not yet. But a lot of houses have a pretty good stock of canned and dry goods. And as long as you don't open the fridge or freezer you're fine.

The basics of life are not a problem. Food is abundant, bottled water is everywhere and as far as housing goes, it's a buyer's market.

I was pulling into Milton Estates, just off Lees Summit Road when I saw a house with a porch light on. Many houses have solar powered lawn lights. I make a point of gathering those up. I had surrounded the perimeter of my house with them as well as a path out to the back yard where I had dug a latrine and another path to the garage. But as I approached the house I saw the large solar panels covering the entire roof on the south side. The door was unlocked so I let myself in. It was a nice house. The decor was somewhat eclectic but seemed to blend well. It was probably how I would have decorated if I'd had the money. I searched the house but found no vacant piles of clothes. In the four car garage, yes a four car garage, I found a pile of men's clothes under a vintage Chevy that was up on jack stands. A set of woman's clothes I found on the patio. I buried them in the back yard.

The house must have cost the owner about 500 to 600 thousand. It was designed to be completely off the grid. Solar power, rainwater collection and filtration system, super insulated. Heat and motion detectors in all the rooms to automatically turn off the lights and minimize climate controls to conserve electricity. I have all the amenities. The streets in the neighborhood are fairly clear so I can get around pretty easy.

I should be quite comfortable here for a while.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride

Ballon vs. Hunter 6 Blade Ceiling Fan of Doom

Not much going on today. Just watching my kids balloon go one on one with the ceiling fan. The outcome is inevitable, like pitting Conan O'Brien against George Foreman during his prime. I am mentally taking bets as to how long it will last. The balloon timidly approaches, gets batted into a corner ending the round. Eventually it gathers up its courage for another assault against the undefeated Hunter 6 Blade Ceiling Fan Of Doom only to be swatted away again. So far this month it has slaughtered 6 balloons maintaining its perfect record.

I gotta go Round 4 is about to begin

Viagra for the Unemployed

Was watching Leno last night and he was talking about Pfizer's version of an economic stimulus plan. They are giving Viagra to unemployed men. While this may be stimulating, I don't know what kind of positive impact it can have on the economy. Picture you average working Joe. He loses his job, his self esteem takes a serious hit. He can't provide for his family, and now he can no longer "get it up". This is the natural order of things. Prevents people from breeding when they can't support additional children. Now we give him Viagra. He can't find work, but he's getting laid every night. His wife gets pregnant. Now instead of just collecting unemployment, he and his wife are getting WIC and welfare. From a purely Darwinian view, we are actively breeding a race of losers.

This is a good thing How?

Dead Land Journal April 30th 2027

I visited the local animal shelter today. My sister had been an animal lover. Not one of those PETA freaks, she just loved animals. But she died a year ago from congestive heart failure while waiting for a transplant. Had she been alive when the dissappearance happened I probably would have thought of it sooner. As it was I was too late for all but three dogs and a cat. The stench was awful.

I let them all out of their cages. One of the ungrateful curs bit me. Didn't break the skin, I had on new jeans and the dog was weak from starvation. They probably won't survive, but at least they stand a better chance now than they did in those cages.

It would be a waste of time at this point to check all the animal shelters. The only reason these survived as long as the did was a leaking roof let in just enough rainwater to keep them from dying of thirst.

The last one was a huge Rottweiller. A big, powerful dog. Even emaciated as it was I was glad I had brought my gun, a Beretta 9mm I had picked up recently. I opened the door and it she just looked me and wagged the little stump of a tail she had. At times like this I could understand why my sister had liked dogs so much. Most dogs will forgive any transgressions in exchange for a simple scratch behind the ears.

I eventually coaxed her out of the cage and out into the lobby where I had ripped open some bags of dogfood. This distracted her long enough for me to get back to my car.

In spite of the odds against it, I have a good feeling about her chances of survival.

Today was a good day. I haven't said that in a long time.

© 2009 R. Keith McBride