Visitors

Day 7
7:41am

It's been a week since beginning this journal. It's early now, and I have been rested. I wouldn't say exactly well rested, but rested enough. A mother and a child are are still asleep; the men awake.

The little girl was fortunate to have slept through last night. How wonderful it must be to be so young and unafraid, unaware of what tragedies and dangers are mapped around us.

It had been 2am. I was awaken out of my slumber; it seems nowadays every small movement sends my body into alert mode. Just the small sounds outside, coming from downstairs. Now, my family's cabin is made up of four levels; the first being a small kitchen and living space, the entry way holding a washer and dryer, the second level holding two bedrooms, only one with a door, the door-less one with a balcony, and the third and fourth levels, open spaces with beds. It was built by my grandfather in the 1980's, and became a wonderful place for guests and company who wanted to spend time outdoors. However, the days now are different from the past. Finding enough food to feed twenty something people, and being able to trust these people are different stories.

This particular night, we had unwelcome guests. I had quickly tapped my husband on the shoulder, and he, like me, was instantly in alert mode himself, his hand gripping the gun next to him. Without a word, he crawled out of bed and headed for the door (us, being on the second level with the bedroom and the door). He motioned for me to stay back, and I found myself already armed with the Featherlight Model 37 Ithaca shotgun, a gift from my father just weeks before the outbreak. Slowly turning the nob, my husband pushed open the door. I saw him instantly throw up his gun and aim, aim at a being. A whisper was exchanged, and he lowered his gun; it was the child's father, who had also heard the sounds; he had been armed himself. I stood prepared, in the bedroom.

The two men, working together, headed down the 5 steps into the kitchen and living area, each with their backs against a wall. After this, I couldn't see much else. Time stood still as I stood silently, waiting for something. When it seemed like forever, I heard gunfire being exchanged. I moved quickly at this point, toward the cracked door. With my gun in my clutches, I peered through. I hadn't seen anything. It seemed like an eternity as I stood there. Only ruffling sounds were heard, until I heard footsteps, heading for the bedroom. I was aiming now, ready to fire if necessary.

"Scarecrow," I heard a familiar voice say. I lowered my gun. It was our safe word; my husband slightly pushed the door open, his hand to his shoulder. He had been shot. I drew a breath, and I knew he could see the worried expression on my face, even in the semi-dark.

"What..." I began, but was quickly interrupted. "I'm okay, nothing but a flesh wound. We had bandits, two men. We had no choice, they were firing at us." I gave a silent nod, and understood quickly what he had been referring to. "We checked out the rest of the area, no sign of anybody else."

I turned on the light to the bedroom now, my husband sitting on the bed. "Is everyone else okay?" I asked, my voice quivering just a little. "Everyone else is fine," he promised. The mother had been awake, but had refused to leave her sleeping child alone. I didn't ask any more questions.

I helped my husband pull off his shirt to reveal his wound on his upper arm. "First aid's in the kitchen."

We headed to the kitchen, turning on the lights. I had expected to see two bodies on the floor, but I saw nothing. As if reading my thoughts, my husband answered, "It's been taken care of." Again, I gave a silent nod, examining his wound.

"I'm a nurse," I heard a woman's voice say, and turned to see the mother, Laura, coming into the kitchen. She was small, petite, unlike me; I've always been on the taller side. Her dark curls and olive skin highlighted from the beaming lights in the kitchen. I stepped aside. "The bullet only grazed him, he'll be fine." She assured, touching his arm. "We just need to disinfect and bandage this up to keep out infection. You were lucky it wasn't worse." Her voice was strong, yet warm.

I must go now, everyone seems to be waking. Breakfast needs to be started as well. Gary will keep you up to date with what happened at the food distribution center when he gets the chance.