Jack's Diary - Unreachable Peace - Day 55

     Evie is leaving us. When Mike and her got back, I expected to get yelled at for slamming Evie's head against a tree, but Mike didn't say anything. Either he's fine with it (I doubt he would be) or Evie didn't say anything (as strange as it is, it is more likely). Evie didn't frown or smile when she stood before me; she seemed passive and null to my presence, as if she no longer cared about me. It all could've been an act for all I know. As she left, her eyes never connected with mine. I would've liked her to stay despite the uneasiness. I feel we could've gotten so much closer and now I suppose I'll never know if we could or just what relationship we'd had have. We're similar in nature though different at heart. It is for the best though; she doesn't need a group. I joined a group because I needed people to watch over and she already has Sam.

     In the morning, I spoke with Mike. He said that we should be at the Valors base within a day or so.  We packed up and headed out and strangely, nothing bad happened to us: no attacks, no shortages, no detours, and no emotional drama or fights. I pitched myself just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. We also run into some kind of trouble or something unexpected happens. We stopped a few times to rest, giving me the chance to read farther into the explosives-making book I picked up previously. I also started sharpening one of the ends of the iron bar against a large rock and I sharpened my knives. These are small things, but they're nice to do. 

     Along the way, everyone except for Mike and me were talking about Evie and how cool it would've been if she stayed. I hadn't noticed this until today, but when we travel, Ann is always a few steps behind me. The only reason I noticed was due to the circumstances; there was no detectable danger around to distract me and Ann was talking with others and I could hear here behind me. Perhaps she feels safe with me leading her or perhaps she has an obsession with me. I have seen her watching me, but it's possible she watches everyone (a stalker by nature perhaps). She could have been staring at the back of my head the whole walk and I would never know. Whenever I look back, her eyes are always elsewhere. Strange.

     When we stopped again, I decided to talk to her. I led her under a tree far enough away from the group so they couldn't hear. 

     "Ann, have any of your memories returned?"

     She shyly shook her head no. I had hoped to start out on a positive note before bringing up my concern.

     "I've noticed you staring at me quite often," she jumped a little at this admission. "Would you mind telling me why?"

     "I'm... interested in you," she answered quietly.

     "Interested?"

     "You're strong, smart, and brave. You're unlike anyone I've ever met." she answer, speaking as if she was ashamed and embarrassed of admitting this.

     This was a suspicion of mine. I have no interest in bonding with anyone too much right now so I accepted her words as merely an explanation for her actions.

     "Alright. Just don't stare at me so much," I said as kindly as I could muster. 

     One thing I like is a balanced woman or at least one brave enough to go after what she wants. If she likes me bad enough the way I think and she approaches me on the subject again, I may be inclined to take her up on the offer. Her attraction to me would explain her staring so much and the reason why I saw her smiling after I argued with Evie (Ann may have saw her as an opponent). Still, my suspicions are not over. I'm still uncertain; I'm always uncertain. I must be partially insane. I always think someone's out to get me. This thinking has kept me alive, but for what purpose if I'm always so untrusting? Bonds can't be kept and eace can't be found. If you can't trust your friends then should you really have friends? Is the doubt I'm feeling have any truth to it or is it just paranoia? I really don't know. I feel fine being this way for now. I heard soldiers develop this type of mindset in combat and it sticks with them. I don't want to keep this forever. There's no point in living out my life if I can't live it as I want. 

     And to think, this all came up because someone may care about me. I should be happy that someone would think of me so kindly. Whether or not she really meant what she said doesn't matter as much as what's keeping me thinking about it. I just tired of this mindset of distrust. I want to believe Ann, but something is just not right: with her or me.

- Jack's Diary

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Jack's Diary - Day 23, October 9th 2013

     This morning, I woke to the sound of music. I could tell it was folk, but I only recognized it as being  a Bob Dylan song until I opened the window. There was a man sitting on a pile of stuff that he probably accumulated there during the night. He was playing a guitar decently and singing the song "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue". There must not have been any soulless around when he started the song because by the time I opened the window and looked out, he was already on the third set of verses and the soulless were beginning to approach the pile. As he continued to sing and the soulless drew ever closer, his demeanor and voice didn't change at all. It was as if he wasn't scared at all. I knew even before the end came that this was a swam song, quite literally. As the soulless were nearly on top of him, he stood up and kicked them down the pile while still playing the guitar and singing. I suppose he wanted to finish the song. Others were looking out their windows and doorways at him as the amount of soulless grew with each chord he strummed. Eventually, kicking did little to nothing since the soulless behind the ones kicked acted as cushions, keeping them on the pile. He was nearly done with the song when he put down the guitar, now completely surrounded and about to be eaten/trampled when he pulled out a grenade and pulled the clip, at which point I brought my head back into the room and closed the window. The explosion was loud, but so sad. I took one more peek before unbarricading the door. The pile of stuff was still there for the most part, some pieces scattered, but now a menacing art piece made the street its canvas. I suppose the name "Suicide or Sacrifice?" would be a pretty accurate description. The crowd of people were no longer watching the street, but I thought I could hear the faint sound of crying.
     After unbarricading my door, I knocked on Duke's door and waited for him to come out. He greeted me with the question, "What was that noise?"
     I told him it was nothing and we moved on. The explosion took care of a large portion of soulless in the area, but that was the least of my concerns. I wasn't planning on having a companion with me since I only packed enough food for myself for 4 weeks. In a few days, we would run out of food so we needed to find more. I lead the way into the forest on our way to the next and last town. The forest has an abundance of unspoiled nutrition (as tasteless as it might be). I decided to gather edible plants, berries, and roots while I told Duke to gather up any insects, reptiles, fish, birds, small game, or basically any living creature that we could eat (I gave him a butterfly net I picked up on our way out of town). He complained, "Why would I catch bugs? I'm not eating them."
I said, "Because I told you too! Do I need to give you a reason! Insects are a good source of protein and we can use them as bait to catch bigger things. Now go!"
He walked away mumbling under his breath. After about two hours of gathering and washing the picking in the same general area, I went to look for Duke, remembering that I never told him not to get lost. I found him a distance off with a bag filled with a bunch of insects, worms, slugs, crayfish, and a few toads and frogs. I said, "Good."
     As it turns out, Duke isn't completely useless. I took out the worms, put them in a separate container, and then sealed up the bug to cut of the air supply to kill everything else. After this, we continued traveling to the final city, Saint Angeles, still walking through the forest area, picking and eating what looked edible. It would be a few days before we reached Saint Angeles since it was far off. Luckily, Duke kept his mouth shut so it was a peaceful hike and there were no soulless in sight. After about an entire day of uninterrupted peace, from midday to midday, we began to get tired and as much as I hated the idea, set up camp in the forest. I made a small fire to cook the stuff Duke had caught so prevent it from going bad too quickly and when night came, I climbed up a tree and slept safely among the tree branches while Duke slept on the ground. I honestly didn't think I cared if he got eaten or mauled, but for some reason, I spent a good part of night making sure he was safe. I suppose there's still some humanity left in me to care about a stranger.

- Jack's Diary

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Jack's Diary - Day 11, September 26th 2013

     I'm already well on my way to Saint Angeles. I didn't go into detail in my last entry so I'll explain now. John, the man who saved me, talked about his past on request. I asked because most of the people I met in the past either wanted me dead or wanted something from me and they especially didn't help me out of pure kindness. He'd lived almost his entire life in this small cabin. Once he became a young man, he moved away from society and built this cabin with his bare hands. He loved people, but preferred a life of solitude surrounded by nature's wild life. He was by no means a hippy or nutcase so don't get the wrong idea. I've known people in my life that loved animals and plants and the rare beauty that in his words "has gone unchanged or destroyed by time". Surprisingly enough, he met a woman. She lived in a cabin as well about 2 miles from John's. They came upon each other in their gathering and hunting. He eventually moved into her cabin and together had a daughter named Jane. The daughter left to start her own travels when she was of age. She's been gone for six years, but she did send a few messages to John by way of a friend visiting the cabin. John's wife passed away in her sleep about three years ago for unknown reasons. As John said, she "entered this world peacefully and left in a peaceful silence." Soon after, he locked up his wife's cabin and moved back into his old cabin (he suggested that I could live there if I wanted, but I declined). He continued to live as he previously did and knew nothing of the horrors happening in the world until the messager stopped coming and he saw a lost soul for the first time.

     I asked how he could go on living his life without a purpose. He was shocked and offended by this question. He gave his answer. "Isn't living good enough? Isn't there purpose in happiness and in breathing a breath? So many people spend their lives in misery and will continue to do so no matter what you tell them. I'm merely balancing the scale by being satisfied with taking care of my life and smiling. And who are you to judge my life to have no purpose, a man who fell at my doorsteps, pleading for help? Without me, you probably would have died. If that is what you mean by purpose then yes, I have a purpose. When I came out here, I never expected to meet a woman, make her happy, make a child with her, raise her up right, but I did. You do not always find purpose, purpose finds you and let it find you prepared and willing!"

     I apologized to John and he accepted it. I suppose I could have summed up his speech, but I consider it something that should be remember and not just to die with the two of us. We talked more and I revealed my past. The talking made the time pass by very fast. I nearly ready to leave when I brought up the question as to why he didn't leave to find his daughter. I already had a few ideas as to why and it turned out I was right.

     "What happens if I leave here and Jane comes back to an empty cabin? I am long passed my prime and as much as I would like to find her, getting killed in the process won't save her and will only sadden her if she found out that happened to me. She'd have no one left in the world or at least from this world. Still, I often find myself wondering whether I should try."

     And that is why I am now off to Saint Angeles. The last message he received from her was that she was living there. He didn't ask me or intend to suggest that I go, but he knew I was going to try and bring her back. I couldn't agree with everything in his philosophy, but he was right: purpose does find you.

- Jack's Diary

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