Okay, I hope this is working. I don’t have much time, so I’ll get out as much of an update as I can with a bit of backlog on what’s been happening around here.

Those still here in Phoenix are having troubles getting the electricity to work properly. Solar power isn’t working well due to the volcanic eruptions from Mount Rainier a while back. The ash cloud has affected the normally beautiful Arizona sunset and it looks rather gloomy these days with a reddish haze. Rolling blackouts can last for days, which doesn’t help for charging my phone and laptop to bring you this information. As it is now, I have about half battery power, but it’s the connection I’m more concerned about. As long as the phone connection holds out, I’m good, since I have to use my phone to plug into the laptop for internet access.

The damage California took on in the earthquakes has affected us as well with any transformer that feeds Phoenix. Micro-bursts have increased during this monsoon season, causing more damage to transformers and power lines with not enough people to work on them, and I’m pretty certain I saw a tornado the other day moving across the Salt River Reservation. It’s not the first one I’ve seen, but that’s just a bit too close for my taste. Where I’m staying isn’t far from that rez and we had to hide in the bathtub with a mattress pulled over us. There are no warning sirens for this area, so if we don’t happen to see the tornado, we’re out of luck. My cousin’s house on the rez was completely destroyed by the most recent one. They’re staying with mom and me now.

Partially due to the blackouts, water is scarce now within the city, and what I do manage to find outdoors has become septic. Perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes, which carry a new strain of the West Nile Virus—the one that has people walking like the dead around here. It’s rather creepy and has my imagination resorting to all those zombie movies I watched as a kid. The heat doesn’t help the situation, as it makes them even more lethargic, and the monsoon clouds seem to hold the heat in as well as the moisture, bringing humidity levels to an all time high for the area. The virus is much more contagious than before, and with what’s left of the CDC focusing on the new flu strains that have mutated beyond comprehension, amongst many other new diseases that have popped up, they haven’t had time to keep up with WNV.

I’ve taken to the nearby desert surrounding what is left of the Phoenix area to hunt barrel cactus for clean water. Unfortunately, I must contend with the wildlife for this, so I always carry my 30/30 rifle with me in case a mountain lion decides I’d make a tasty meal, since food is scarce for them, too. My cousin Daniel comes with me on these ventures because it’s not safe to travel alone anymore. Mountain lion has a very interesting taste to it, by the way, and I’m quite glad my father took us hunting when we were younger. It’s difficult to preserve any perishable food, so anything killed needs to be eaten soon or dried. When we kill something that size, we share it with anyone else who might be still around. There are a couple of families left in the neighborhood, but they’re getting ready to leave, too.

When I woke up for my morning run, the power was out again. The run is something I still do, even though the world is in a bleak state of affairs and my sneakers are falling apart. It is a custom of mine that I can’t let go. Besides, the rattlesnakes are less of a worry at dawn because they’ve fed. Daniel and I run toward the sunrise and when we stop, we take in the sun as it peaks the horizon, waving our hands toward us to bring us its strength and energy. Thus begins our day, with a spiritual connection to the universe. It’s the only way I can remain sane in this chaos. I’m not so sure about Daniel, but the man is a rock.

Here’s a picture:

On our way back, I cut into a barrel cactus and soak a bandana with the water while Daniel keeps watch. Then I transfer the water to my canteen. It’s a bit tedious, but it’s the only way to get fresh water, and it’s hardly enough for all of us so we do it as often as we can until we’re ready to leave.

Hard to believe that only three years ago, I sat on my back porch doing homework, studying geologic disasters. I never thought I’d see so many happen in such a short amount of time.

The city is no longer habitable, and I’ve run into some people who are heading north, coming up from South America and Mexico. Most of them have expressed going to Canada. My goal is to find a place with clean water and a lack of mosquitoes. Somewhere my mother will be safe. I’ve heard about a camp up north around Montezuma’s Well, which makes sense because I know there is a natural spring there.

So that’s where I’m heading. I’ll be on the road for a bit and will report back when I get the chance to…

We left the Phoenix area several weeks ago and traveling has been tough, especially with my elderly mother, but we made it to Montezuma’s Castle. I hadn’t been there since I was a kid.

People took refuge in the ruins, damaging them I’m certain, but how does one tell in such an ancient place? My small group set up camp in the nearby trees. Shelter was shelter in this new era and there’s a river close by offering clean water and fresh fish to those who were willing to work for it and help out in this small community.

It pained me to see the ruins being damaged, but reminded me of a time long before the modern world. It’s so strange to watch the world revert back to that time . . . with exception to the few cell phones and laptops around here. They weren’t really being used much to conserve battery life, but a few of us had them in case of an emergency, and this was how I’d get news out. I was honestly surprised the internet still worked, but I supposed as long as there’s power on somewhere to run a server or two, and satellites still hung in the sky, cyberspace still existed.

The people around here were living off whatever they’d brought with them, which consisted of a lot of junk food, and not one in the group was any good at hunting aside from catching a rabbit or squirrel. That didn’t feed too many people and this group wasn’t small. A large man named Zeke was the leader. He’s kind of scary-looking, but he’s a big teddy bear. Once Zeke learned that Daniel and I knew how to hunt, that became our job. If it kept me from scrubbing laundry and dishes, I was game. We hunted in the early mornings after our run toward the sunrise—me with my rifle and Daniel with his bow.

We’d hunt at night as well. Coyote was best to hunt at night. We headed out together then because there were other things lurking in the darkness. During last night’s hunt, we’d tracked a coyote down into a wash. They were extremely quiet and cautious animals, so tracking one wasn’t easy, but Daniel and I figured tracking a coyote would lead to a whole pack, and coyotes were scavengers. Not that I wanted to eat whatever they’d found or killed. They made different sounds for each, though. When they killed, the yips and howls sounded like an angry pack of hyenas, not like the coyotes near the Phoenix area. Those were more like desert wolves and howled more than anything. We were able to kill a few of them. Their pelts would help keep us warm come winter, since we’ll be heading north.

This morning while Daniel and I were out on a hunt, we stumbled upon a small doe. Daniel damn near scared it away with his excitement. We hadn’t seen game like that in some time, long before the world dipped into chaos and cataclysm.

I stood on his left and leaned in to whisper. “Make sure you actually hit it.” I was only teasing him, of course. Daniel’s an amazing hunter.

“Shh.” He was a perfect statue, keeping his aim steady, watching the doe for a good long time before letting the arrow fly. It pierced her eye and she dropped.

“Holy hell, that was a good shot!” I almost dropped my rifle.

Daniel turned to me. “Yeah, even though someone doesn’t know how to stay quiet during a hunt. No wonder you need the damn gun. You couldn’t stand the torture of silence for long.”

“Oh, shut up and go get her.”

He smiled and wandered toward his prey that lay about thirty yards from us. “You’re lucky she didn’t hear you or I’d be putting that arrow in your ass.”

I heard gunshot in the distance, to the east. “You hear that?” I shouted to him.

He waved a hand in acknowledgement. He’d heard it, but wasn’t concerned at this time. Maybe it was just another group out hunting. If that was the case, Daniel and I would need to be more careful on future hunts, or find another spot.

I walked over to him and the doe as he pulled the arrow from her and cleaned it.

He turned to me. “She’s gonna be heavy. See if you can find a log or something we can tie her to and carry her back to camp.”

I nodded and turned away. Scanning the area, I decided it was best to head down near the river. Trees grow along a water source, so that would be the best place to find what I needed.

Not sure how long I’d wandered around, I finally found a piece long and sturdy enough to carry the doe. As I picked it up and started to drag it back, I heard voices on the other side of the river beyond the trees and ducked down.

Three men appeared out of the brush and headed for the river as I watched from my canopy of tree branches and bushes. Daniel and I were pretty far from our camp, which was why we needed the log to carry the doe back. At least it wasn’t an elk. Those things were huge.

I couldn’t understand their words as they cleaned up in the river, but I could see what they washed from their hands—blood. I could only hope it was from an animal. Before leaving the Phoenix area, Daniel and I had to fight off a small group trying to steal our supplies, so I didn’t trust anyone easily . . . especially if they were armed and covered in blood.

We’d run into some real nice people too, such as those in this community, but I’d heard stories of the unsavory kind of folk you only saw in movies. The kind like those we fought off several weeks ago. Not looking forward to that again. I guess an end of the world type of situation would test what kind of person you truly were, wouldn’t it?

So far, I was pretty damn proud of who I was and who my family was.

I looked back along the path to see if I could escape without being noticed. The possibility existed, so I secured my rifle on my back and picked up one end of the log that was about three inches in diameter. Very quietly, I made my way up the path, looking back now and then to see if they noticed me. They hadn’t.

When I made it back to Daniel, I huffed and caught my breath before speaking. I’d moved quickly through the woods.

“We need to get out of here,” I said, and told him about the men.

Daniel worked fast securing the doe to the log. Once she was ready, he pointed me to one end.

“Grab it and let’s go.”

I lifted the log at the same time he did, and we marched back toward our camp.

“Jesus, could this thing be any heavier?”

“Wuss,” he replied from the front and continued walking. “Keep up.”

“I’m trying.” I had my end resting on my right shoulder. “Boy, they’ll be happy when they see this. It’ll feed the whole camp.”

“I know, right?” He looked up through the trees. “C’mon, there’s a storm coming in.”

My eyes peered through the tree canopy above us. “How do you do that? All I see is blue.”

“It’s a gift,” he said. “Besides, I can smell the moisture in the air.”

In my nervousness about the men I’d seen at the river’s edge, I kept looking behind us to make sure no one followed. The feeling just wouldn’t go away.

Once my mother could travel again, we were heading up to Montezuma’s Well. That’s the source of the river from an underground spring several miles up the mountain and I’d be able to find specific medicinal plants around there that mom needed. While she didn’t have the WNV strain that afflicted most of the Valley of the Sun, she definitely wasn’t doing well and I needed to figure out how to treat her.

Eventually, we’d make it home, to our Navajo Nation. Then maybe on to Canada, which was where everyone else was heading. I just didn’t want to sit in this place too much longer.