Personal Account: "Disco Matt"

Transcript of Interview with Independent Settler Who went by the Alias "Disco Matt" real identity unknown

It's funny really, all the post-apocalyptic fiction had us running out of fuel in weeks and returning to the pre-industrial age. I think it must have been writers who were scared of machinery and didn't understand how to keep it going. As things were, we're well off for diesel at least. It keeps better than petrol and with only a handful of us still alive we've got enough to last for a couple of years at least.

That's where I come in. I've ended up as the chief mechanic of a now fortified town, keeping the lights on and the vehicles working for the salvage teams. I don't often have time to go out with them, and I've told them to avoid any remotely difficult terrain as we just don't have the parts to repair major damage.

When it hit I watched, and more importantly listened to friends in emergency planning. When they began to go silent or post instructions to get the hell out I gathered a small group. Together we loaded our 4x4s and trailers with supplies and headed for a wooded area we all knew well. There was ample wood for building and heating, and we'd brought enough tinned food for three months or so. We collected rainwater and eventually found a spring in the forest. We grew crops on the land our small logging operations cleared. We installed a CB radio with a giant amplifier that would have had OFCOM at the door in minutes before the virus. As it was, we heard it all. Lone voices pleading for help. Groups like ours searching for a bolthole. We decided early on that we wouldn't transmit in response, fearing either infection or violent attack by people with more weapons and fewer supplies.

As the months drew on, the radio grew quieter. We still had plenty of power to run it, with solar panels charging a large bank of batteries during the day to run lights and charge laptops. The mobile phones went off very quickly, but GPS still works now. I remember reading that it would last for a few years in the event of the system being left unmanned, and sure enough a reliable fix was still easy to find.

We sent out search teams, instructed to keep moving and try to avoid being seen. They found bodies, some areas had suffered so badly that they could not stand the sight or smell. They found valuable spares and brought them back to our base.

At this point, we decided to stay where we were rather than return to our former homes. The towns were too dangerous, with warring gangs in larger settlements. Our location remained secret and we were already constructing permanent buildings using timber felled from elsewhere in the forest. As we searched, we met other groups like our own. Some we recognised from clubs we'd been members of before the outbreak, and alliances were formed. We'd communicate via radio link and share parts and supplies. Our camp grew larger, as there seemed to be little risk of infection now.

That winter was the first blow to our new town. For months we knew no existence beyond collecting firewood and trying to stop the livestock that we had rounded up from abandoned farms from freezing to death. Two of our number were injured when their vehicle rolled off a frozen track, luckily they suffered only broken bones and our resident medic was able to splint them well enough for recovery. We began to see occasional lone road warriors seeking our help, and if they seemed reasonable we accepted them into the community.

Spring came none too soon, and gave us time to take stock. We had built a large village in a previously deserted forest using only those tools that we had brought with us. We had electricity and reliable water supplies.

There has to be an end. We're not sure we want that mythical army truck to come rolling up here and announce that it's all over and that we should accept the interim government, as we seem to have a pretty effective one of our own. We don't really know what's happening nationwide, as the radio traffic in our area is now mostly our search teams. Mobile phones still don't work, and although we managed to get the backup generators working in the local telephone exchange we couldn't find any sign of a surviving internet or anyone answering phones. FM radio just produces static. Our teams have ranged as far as the coast and found only occasional survivors, although a full tanker of crude oil was discovered which will probably keep us in diesel for the rest of our lives once we get a refinery built.