Artifact 2092: Diary Entry

Entry consists of a handwritten page, appears to be torn from a journal. Discovered from Black Zone Theta, Grid 33,-82

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It stopped raining today. Father Adam says it's a gift from God,
washing away sin from the earth and giving us good water to drink. I
like that it's stopped though, because it made my chores less of a
bother. I fed the chickens and swept their pen (before feeding them,
obviously) and took Mother Miriam her breakfast. I don't think she's
going to be better in time for the wedding, but Brother Alfred says
it's only because she's old and broken bones don't mend so fast in old
people.

Some of the men are fixing the hole the storm made in the church roof
and Sister Clair and Sister Theresa are making it pretty with some
flowers. The fuss makes me uncomfortable, but I suppose it's
important to make it look nice when God is especially looking.

Father Adam says it is good that I agreed to get married. He says love
in marriage is very nice if you can find it, but since God ended the
sinful world it's far more important to be dutiful. He says its
actually better not to be in love because that way we can avoid sinful
fornication. He says I must remember to obey and work hard and have
lots of babies. Father Adam says that
God wants us to help refill the world with children brought up to be
good so that He won't ever have to kill nearly everyone ever again.

Sister Lucy said to Father Adam that it was wicked for me to get
married at my age, but Father Adam said it wasn't up to her to
interpret God's will and he had Brother Norman whip her with the
switch. I don't know why Sister Lucy thought it her business. She
said I'm too young to have babies, but Sister Thomasina got married
when she was a year younger than me and has two children now so I
don't see how she can be right. After she was whipped, Sister Lucy
raised her voice and argued, right in front of everyone, so Father
Adam took the switch and beat her again himself. Then he quoted St
Paul, the bit about women being silent and humble and let Brother
Alfred take her away to have the cuts tended. He is very forgiving.
I don't know if she'd been so rude to me I'd have been so nice.

Sister Sonia said that before God punished us for our wickedness,
Sister Lucy was something called a Social Worker and she couldn't help
being interfering and a busybody. I'm sorry she got switched, but
Father Adam is only doing his best to keep us pure.

It will be strange after tomorrow to call Brother Luke "Husband", but
I'm glad that my sister, my real sister although Father Adam says I
shouldn't make distinctions between her and my other Sisters now, will
be marrying him too at the same time. Sister Lucy had something to
say about that too, but I don't know why she called it sick. Neither
Brother Luke, Izzy, or me are sick. Brother Alfred would have noticed
if we were. He is so clever about spotting when people are sick in
case it is another sign of God's judgement against us.

I don't think I like Sister Lucy. She is very interfering. I'd
better go and pray to make the unkind thoughts go away.

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Entry filed by Gill, reference number K75-23.2

Artifact 5422: Journal entry, Gloucestershire area.

Transcript of Pages from book found near campsite of primitives, Severn Valley area, England, Grid 51,-2

The Ritings of Geff the record keeper

25^th Night after longest Day

We wer gathered arownd the fire for the sunset meal. It is myself, the twins Tomas and Eeyan, Kait the weaver and won of the hunters whos name was Mat. We wer discussing the day, how Tomas and had been workin on arrowheads for Mat and the other hunters usin some new metal made from iron and something olden.

Now Eeyan was speakin of how he had found an olden something off towards the old motorpath, wot the olders called Emm five. Its nothing but a valley now, our ancestors had long stripped it clean of the metal scraps that rested there. Can still see some of the fake rock path and mirrorstones put in the ground and he thought he’d found one on this path leadin to Emm 5. So got out my inkfeather and papers and began writin what pepol sed. To write it up tidy later on.

“I stepped closer” he sed “Thinkin we could always use mor mirrorstones, but as I got closer I could see it wuz something else. A peece of glass, small, round, could hold sumthin, had a strainge symbul on it,” I looked at him, he grabbed my feather and ink and dru it out. I looked to him and the three crezents and a circul.

“I know that, its and olden markin for something that causes sickness.” I said, Mat stood quickly.

“If it causes sickness don’t bring it neer me!” I new mat, he was strong and tuff but fearful of spirits and diseeses. Speshyully olden things.

“No, i thort i new what it was, something olden back from the tym of the big one, so i left it ther, it seemed frytening, something that shook yer soal”

“it was probably one of ther bombs, wot released the sickness,” Mat said, sitting down agen slowly. I looked to him, confyused.

“my dad, says the big one that killed the oldens, was a plague release by the rulers, there was too many people you see and this would cull them down, like you cut low branches off crop,”

Eeyan looked to him “Why don’t we see any olden rulers arownd then smart man,”

“theyre hidin, still fraid of the big one getting them, see we are all safe from it, the oldens that became us were blessed by the great god, but they hid, so they can still be got,” Eeyan was abowt to talk, probly to ask Mat how he nyew all this.

Kayt finally spoke, kwyetly “the big one killed the rulers, no oldens survive ecksept those that became us, all others ar gone,”

“How can yoo be so sure!?” Mat asked, Eeyan was quick to reply

“Well then how can yoo?” Mat sat down. Eeyan carried on

“Cors no oldens dead, the big one turned peepul into demons!” Mat larfed at this, Eeeyan carreed on, “it did, all pale and dead but walkin! No olden cood escayp that!”

“how can yoo be sure? smart man” Mat mokd eeyan. “Our Dad told us so,” Tomas, hoo was myoot nodded. Mat still larfed. Kayt spoke again

“Duz it matter what corzed the big one? Its gon” she said as she sipped her appelwyn.

“What if it cums bak?” Mat asked, tryin to sownd smart. I spoke this tym

“Then nothing, eether we are blessed an sayf, or we dy, the Oldens dyed and they coud fly and span oshuns and create light and sound with masheens, we r nothing compared 2 them,” I lowered my hed.

“Maybe it shud stay that way,” Kayt sed, no one else said much that nite.

Artifact 1433: Hand written note, Birmingham Area

Note found in house in Solihull area of Birmingham

To whoever may find this,

I’m writing this cos I am leaving. I’m hoping to get to Cornwall, I used to have an aunt there. Maybe I still do. I want to try and find her, I liked her. If she still exists, she’s my only relative. It sounds silly, but I want what’s left of my family. I’ve left the address stuck on the fridge if you’re interested.

I know it’s probably hopeless. But it has been weeks since I have seen anyone and I can’t cope with the silence. The army used to drive around a lot, and there was always sirens going off from somewhere. But that was months ago. Then I was just left with the distant sounds of looting and death. Now each morning I wake up to the sound of nothing. Still, silence. I live in a city, there should never be silence. I don’t venture out much, just to get food. But I’m running out of local shops to grab food from. Plus, I would rather die trying to do something than sitting around here and slowly starving to death.

I don’t think I’ll get it, the disease. I would have by now. Mum, Dad and Jenny all did and I’m convinced the cat did too. That’s something to do with the word ‘mutation’ I think, that it can go from animals to people. I dunno, I never did pay much attention in science. History on the other hand I loved. We were doing ‘the plague of 1665’ and all that stuff. I think irony comes into that somewhere. We did about a village called Eyam (wherever that is). It was the first place to get the plague outside of London, thanks to some flees in some cloth. They isolated and village to try to prevent the spread, and they nearly all died. There was one woman apparently who buried her husband and children. I feel like her. I didn’t have to bury them, I could have given them up to be burnt by the army, but I didn’t. Perhaps I should have done, don’t they say that you can’t dig up plague pits in case you can still catch it? Maybe that’s what happened.

You’d have thought, really, that in those hundreds of years between then and now, we might have been able to cope a bit better with something like this. All we need is for the soldiers to start shouting ‘bring out your dead’ and it would be just the same. I’ve even seen people mark their doors.

It sounds weird, but I miss school. I miss life, all of it. Everyone and everything. I can’t complain cos everyone is in the same position.

I thought I would write this in case anyone was to come here in the future. Like some sort of ‘time capsule’ thing. So they would know whose house they were in, whose bed they were sleeping in and not to dig up the garden. It was my house. Me – Andy, aged 14, Jenny, age 9, Mum – Margret, Dad – Phil (I can never remember how old they are) and the cat – Bobby. I think I will head off now, I’ve got a long way to walk. Hopefully, if she’s alive, aunt Jane will have a car.

Here goes nothing. Bye

Artifact 1921: Typed note, author name unknown

Transcript of note found in train carriage, South west Devon mainline

Welcome to my humble abode.

You’re welcome to it.

With a reasonable amount of time remaining and a high sense of self importance I write this statement.

When we realised what was going on, like most people who were still capable of doing so we left the city, thinking for no real reason that the countryside would better.. Having No car we left on foot, through gardens and along roadsides we travelled, avoiding the main transit ways for safety, camping in houses that were safe, or at least seemed safe, but that’s another story. This took some time, avoiding riots and blockades it took a few days. By the time we got out of the city it had started to go quiet. At one point, out of curiosity we wandered towards the motorway.

Cars as far as the eye could see, all silent, we could see figures inside them silent and some figures wandering around them, we couldn’t see what they were doing, we just felt a great sense of foreboding. I never really knew hat that word meant, only that old writers use this. Now I know what they meant, but I doubt they saw anything like this.

So, living off cold tins of stuff we grabbed from a seemingly abandoned CO-OP we struck out across the countryside. Oh, me and Kate, and I’m Paul. That’s the problem with typewriters, can’t go back and edit. I never thought I’d miss Microsoft word.

A week of living on tins of pineapple chunks and cold beans didn’t seem too appealing but neither of us knew which berries were safe and which might give us the shits. I’ve since mused on how separated from nature we all were but at the time I was just hungry so we eventually started eating them, trial and error. I tried to further supplement this by catching pigeons, with no luck.

So berries in bag, beard sprouting on face we reached a railway line, empty. We decided to follow it; maybe it would take us to a town, maybe not. We had no plan, we were just carrying on, tired, unable to sleep for noises and scratches around us at night. We followed the line, I’d like to tell you, invisible reader about the incident with the old lady and the ticket office, but I can feel time slipping away from me.

On an empty stretch of track, overlooking the coast stopped a train, some small two carriage commuter jobby. We approached it cautiously, only to be greeted by a man whose beard was probably enormous even before the death of the electric razor and running water. His name was Arthur and unsurprisingly, he was a railway driver. As we’d later find out he’d hijacked this train, departing without passengers save for his wife Molly and their children. After being checked for cleanliness and signs of infection we were allowed in on condition we shared our food and helped hunt. As it happened John could hunt pigeons, so we feasted on meat that night with good company and nervous, if hopeful, smiles.

Arthur was the first to go. Not die, not definitely, but probably. He went on a reccy on his own. Stupid bastard. Didn’t see him for a few days, but Molly started worrying within two minutes. When we woke up the following morning we found John, their eldest had gone to try and find him. Also stupid, albeit 14 years, so ill forgive him.

Molly and Suzy, her daughter found him that afternoon, he’d managed half a mile before slipping down a hill, landed on his neck. Lived long enough to say goodbye to his mum.

Molly went missing a week later. I wonder if something happened to her, but I suspect she did something herself. I guess I’ll never know. Suzy never spoke after that.

Suzy lived with us in our striped out train, with its crude metal fireplace, beds made of chairs adorned with some awful pattern of the type only found on bus and train seats. Me, Kate and our silent adopted daughter

So we lived, roughly off the land, and the sea. Till one day, inexplicably, Kate fell ill with an infection; I don’t know whether it was from bad food, or finally a poisonous kind of berry. If only we knew, I miss Waterstones too. So we watched her slowly fade away, food didn’t last very long, we gave her a carriage to herself, which I visited, against her better judgment but me and Suzy survived that.

Suzy was mute, but still functional, for a 9 year old who’d see more than she should of the world’s horrors. Till one day she left, without a word, and even if she spoke, I didn’t hear it.

So I stayed here, on my own, slowly starving. A modern man can’t survive on his own wits. When I fell ill I was quite glad, I can feel life fall away from me, and each button on this type writer feels so heavy to press.

Can’t be too bad though, I managed to write all this bollocks.

I don’t know what it is, it’s not a major illness though and certainly not the big one that’s been killing everyone. At least I survived the big one.

Diary Entry: Ruby Li

Excerpt from a diary found in the Shrewsbury area, cover idenfies author as "Ruby Li"

Eve and I joked about when something like this would happen. I would always read the Zombie survival guide, and preparing myself for the end of the world. She always said she'd be the first to die, hopeless in those sorts of situations. After all it was all only joke. Wasn't it?

For a while after the big one was first broadcasted life carried on as normal. Eve and I carried on working, shops were still open, if a little quieter. I started to collect things then...getting extra tinned food, big bottles of water, first aid kits. Before anyone believed the story. Eve thought I was going mad, and would laugh at me. I'd laugh with her, and just say we can never be too careful. She carried on working, although most places had closed and the streets were quiet. I got suspicious then. She said the government would protect us.

The government had told us not to worry, they had found a cure, and if anyone was ill to go to the health clinics situated at the community halls. And I had started to believe them.

Until Eve fell ill. I can still remember that day.

I had taken her to those supposed "health clinics". The screaming from the other patients was unbearable. The room wall to wall in blood, and patients crammed into any space possible some dead, some alive. The smell of vomit and rotting meat had filled my nostrils, and when I think about it, the smell still bothers me. I remember there were these Men in white suits walking around me with guns in their hands,and pulled me away from Eve, and taking me to a separate room. They took away my dignity, washed me down and checked if I was also infected. Then they threw me a white mask, and a fresh pair of clothes.

I remember the look on Eve's face wen they returned. A look of peace and calm. Angelic. Apart from one single bloody hole placed into her forehead, the already blood stained pillow soaking up the fresh blood pouring from her head. This was the governments idea of getting rid of the virus. I remember being told there was nothing they could do, and this was the only way of dealing with the virus. I was ushered out, back into the streets, as if nothing had happened.

After returning home, I checked the supplies, bought them up to the loft along with Eve's pet hamster. I wanted to shut the world away. We were going to get married. We were going to adopt. Why did they take her and not me as well? I miss her so much.

They thought they could contain the virus...We believed them. Little did we know they were building a new world....A White Zone. Leaving the rest of us to suffer.

All I can do is sit and listen to the low frequency of the radio hoping to hear a voice...any voice....Any survivors?

Personal Account, Location: Surrey, England

Personal account of scavenger found operating in South East England area.

Boom! Every so often it just hits you like a brick in the face. The sheer enormity of what

happened. There were a lot of people talking about divine retribution; saying maybe it wasn't too

late to repent. I wonder if they're still saying that? Me, I'm a firm believer that this is it. This is all we get; a one shot deal and I'm still trying to make the most of it.

There's no one I know left now. They all believed they would go to a better place and I

guess they have. They're all giving back to the earth they spent their whole lives helping to destroy.

I don't know why the world was surprised when the big one finally struck. All parasites will

eventually exhaust their host's resources. Even a seemingly indestructible virus can consume too

much; destroying the host by replicating itself to excess. Because that's all people are really, just

some sort of parasite; a virus on the earth.

It's strange. You'd think it would be so much more quiet and still now. Full of silence.

In fact now I think it might be noisier than ever. Or maybe it's just that I notice more without the constant hum of the cities and my own humdrum thoughts burbling in the background. Sometimes I can convince myself that I've forgotten what it used to be like. Sometimes I can even pretend I'm the only one; that somehow I survived because I was never really one of them. It would explain a lot; why I could never settle down, why I was always a loner and in trouble, why I acted on impulse instead of thinking most of the time, why they locked me up.

Now it's like they lock themselves up. All walled inside their safe-zones. I went right up to

one of those walls once. I scrambled through the wire and fences and placed my hand on that cold concrete. I would have tried to find a way inside, tried to grasp at some semblance of the mundane life I used to live. That is if they hadn't shot at me. I'm actually quite glad they did. I spent too long locked away because I wasn't like them. I don't want to be walled in again. Out here I can finally be free. There's no one to make me second-guess myself. No walls, no bars and no judgement. Just me and the sounds of a world being left to come alive again.

Artifact 1082: Audio Recording, Location: New Zealand

Archivists note: Transcript of recording found on a Dictaphone found 15 miles north of Wellington, New Zealand

The thing I remember most about The Big One is the silence. There had been so much news, all the time, everywhere, about this new threat. My family, sceptics to the last, laughed it off, calling it another SARS, another swine flu, even with the hourly health warnings that came later. I was the only one that really took it seriously. ‘Course, I took anything health-related seriously in those days. I was a paranoid in the midst of sceptics. My OCD didn’t help, either. Or maybe it did. I was always washing things, sterilising them. Probably the only reason I’m still alive.
It was sudden, when it happened. First, the Telly went down. That shocked my brother. He couldn’t believe that anything could be so bad as to end television. Next was the internet. I think that was what finally shocked my parents into actually taking it seriously. But by then it was too late. There wasn’t anything they could do. One by one, it took them.
My sister was the last to go. She’d been the only one to take it anywhere near seriously, until the Telly went down. She was the luckiest of us. I found her OD’d on the bathroom floor one morning. She’d found some of Mum’s sleeping pills. I don’t know whether she thought that maybe they were little sweets, or something, but sometimes, I think that, somewhere, behind the madness that took her, there must have been some shred of what she used to be, and she knew what was coming, and she couldn’t face it.
The worst moment so far, for me, wasn’t seeing my family taken, or die. I feel horrible thinking that, but I know it’s true. The very worst moment, was the day the radio turned to static. I had never known such soul-crushing agony, such loneliness. It was a few months after that I left the house.
I wandered for days before coming across any sign of life. When I did, I found out they didn’t want me. They thought I’d have the virus. I didn’t handle that too well. When they threw me out, I’m not altogether sure I stayed sane. If I’d ever even been sane. But that was a defining moment for me. It was then that I knew nothing was ever going to be right again.
So, I wandered. During the day, I’d scavenge what I could. Food, clothing, medical supplies, shiny stuff, anything. I’d clean it, of course. At night, I didn’t sleep. I’d set up my camp as best I could, and hope the screams didn’t come nearer. They never did. But I’d found some fast acting poison, just in case it did. I wouldn’t become one of them, no way.
Once, I was shot at, by one of the White Zoners. I don’t know why, but it hurt. I couldn’t fix myself up, too much blood. I can’t handle blood. It’s still in my leg. It’s why I limp.
I hear life’s almost normal inside the White Zones. They sleep in beds, and eat their food hot. They wear clothes that were made for them. Or at least fit them. And it’s clean in there. It would be so good to get properly clean.
I’m almost out of disinfectant. I use it as sparingly as I can handle, but it’s not going to last much longer. I don’t know how I’m going to survive. I need to find some more. Maybe I could trade with some White Zoners?
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know just one thing, I am going to live. No matter what.