Not much to report here…haven’t gotten the field scanner working, and despite the abundance of digital cameras we have, no one thought they would be uploading any of their pictures while they were here (no cords). The least I could do for everyone out there is show how we set up the camp, or show everyone some of my beautiful artwork. I draw on the back of empty medical forms when I’m bored…which is often.

Actually it’s been pretty boring for all of us. The weather’s been unusually nice for the middle of hurricane season, and we haven’t fired a bullet in the past week. The first few days here, Sombras were abundantly pouring over the hillside about two every hour or so. They were easy enough to take down. When one was by itself, I’d send two men out with a shovel. We drag and bury them separately on the far side of camp. Voodoo, Catholic, Unitarian, I couldn’t care less, but I’m not going to forget that these people used to be people, and they deserve some recognition of that.

It has been nice to get to know the three medical officers and the locals that are now part of our small community. Soto’s done his best to train everyone in practical gun safety. I’d hate to get shot by my own people. Again. I’ll save that story for another time.

Several of us have actually taken to swimming in the lake on our off-shifts. It’s just for something to do, but there’s something pleasant about going for a swim every day.

Camp is as set up as it’s going to get. I’m out of things for us to build in our free time. We have a mess hall that could fit all eighteen of us in it, and two small huts with three beds in each of them. We’re using half of the plane for storage, and the other half for the Doc to do some lab work.

With the eighteen of us, we all take four hour shifts in groups of three doing something relatively productive. We built three glorified ‘towers’ about fifteen feet tall around camp with enough room for three people in the nests, which means there are always at least nine of us on watch duty. Two sets eye the northeast and southeast perimeters, while the third set eyes the western front.

It’s usually all quiet on the western front.

I’m going to be leading an expeditionary squad around the lake tomorrow. I would have left sooner, purely out of boredom, but Dr. Samuel insisted he tag along, and he just finished up his analysis on some of the ‘blood work’ he was doing in the plane. Doc said it would be a good idea to bring those of us that didn’t fell much of the effects of the viruses we were exposed to in the storm. He could have just said “Green, it’s going to be you, me, and Amanda going…doctor’s orders”, but I’m pretty sure he wanted me to figure that one out on my own. Wasn’t that nice of him?

The other medical officer, Dr. Richards is going to stay behind with Jack to keep the camp running smoothly. There are only six of us Military folk, and three of us are disappearing over the hilltops. Rick is going to continue working on the rest of the lab work while we’re away. We call Dr. Richards ‘Rick’ even though his first name’s Oliver…not sure how that got started.

I’m leaving this equipment in the hands of Rick and Jack. If they feel the need to get the word out about anything, I’ve given them a crash course on connecting this thing. The trick is to type it all up and wait for a good time to send it out.

We leave Camp Calloway at 0700. We should be back in five days time. It’s just a reconnaissance mission…what could possibly go wrong?

Semper Paratus

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…

From the desk of Soren Ragnvald, Editor In Chief

The incidents in Fresh Kills New York are frightening, and I am grateful to the survivors of the incidents there for the safety of our reporter, Lori Kim, while at the same time, I express my sincerest condolences to the survivors for their fallen. I am going to send Lori to a safer expedition while I attempt to negotiate a resolution with Conrad Blankenship. I’m certain something can be arranged. There is no need for these kinds of actions in our world. We all need to rebuild. Lori, I’ll send you someplace as safe as I can make it for your next assignments.

We are able to receive word from AJ Green of what had been the Coast Guard, but unfortunately, I have no network in that part of the world. The Caribbean and Haiti did not have enough of a market to justify an entry to cover it. At the time of the trouble, Nordlander Telecommunications had only a small foothold in New England. We are receiving his broadcasts via satellite, but have no boats or resources in place for rescue. We will monitor the situation and look to provide resources as we can.

Ithius Sinclair continues to find stories in the Bay area in California. This area in particular has fallen on desperate times. Food and resources are scarce, and the competition for survival has divided the survivors into clans. The area is one of the most anarchic, violent and dangerous I have current reports on, and there are many rumors of cannibalism. Large wildfires still burn unchecked in the hills, while other places are flooded with glacial melt. Still, there are patches of survivors clinging on and rebuilding, and order has some hope of returning to the area.

In the Phoenix area, Michaela Blackhorse is just coming on-line. The area struggles for water, and the populations from Central America and Mexico heading to more hospitable climates to the north can lead to significant clashes. At the same time, there is a new strain of West Nile Virus that is finding a foothold in the area that appears to be exceptionally strong and has new dangerous symptoms. There is little ability to develop medicines or vaccines anywhere, and so this could spread to the rest of the continent if it isn’t contained there soon.

The End of the World Times continues to provide coverage of survival niches in our post-apocalypse world. Our reporters are independent agents who work on your donations. Please help us support their coverage.

I finally got this damn thing working. My name is Lt. Commander AJ Green. We performed an emergency landing in the Dominican Republic twelve weeks ago in response to a distress call that sounded like a medical outbreak. I was very wrong.

We were flying in an HC-144A from Clearwater, FL to the old Coast Guard Station in Borinquen, Puerto Rico. This was during the brief period of time when the governments were still trying to gain control over the situation. Vaccines were being shipped to combat a virus that was mutating out of control, supplies were being shipped away like candy. We were to transport aid, vaccines, and supplies that were needed to continue the treatment of influenza victims in the Caribbean for the next month.

Lt. Jack Solomon and I were assigned two additional crewmen to manage the handling of  medical personnel and supplies.

Ensigns Amanda Briggs and Robert Calloway joined us in the cockpit after strapping in the fourteen relief personnel into the cargo hold with the hummer, the vaccines, all of the electrical equipment that needed replacing on base, and enough emergency rations for a small village to live happily for a few months.

About 30 minutes from our destination, we heard a very unique call for help. Someone on one of the islands we were passing had locked himself in the control room of a military outpost in Haiti. He was screaming (in broken English throughout broken static). The strangest thing I recall hearing was that his father was trying to kill him. Somewhere in there he mentioned his father’s funeral being several weeks ago.

We radioed back and decided that this could have been some new strain of disease in the outbreak that the doctors needed to attend to before it got out of control. We changed course and decided we were going to try to land at the old Cibao Airport in Santiago.

We landed at what was the start of the first of at least three hurricanes that plowed over the airbase. We taxied into the only roofed service hangar and did the only thing we could do in a hurricane. We waited.

A week went by of solid storms. We did our best to keep the hangar doors closed at all times, but mostly we stayed in the plane. The occasional bashing on the outside of the hangar was easier to ignore in the cockpit. The hangar had a bathroom, and the eighteen of us waited out the storms. Apparently the rest of the island wasn’t so lucky.

When we emerged from the hangar, piles of debris were everywhere. Over the course of the next two weeks, half of the island came down with some strange strain of the disease. One of the doctors on board tried to explain it to me, but all I got from the conversation was that it wasn’t swine flu, and it was blown here from another island thanks to the hurricane. Mosquitoes, maybe?

Five of our medical personnel died that week from it. Another eight (including Lt. Soloman and Ensign Calloway) were on death’s doorstep for about a week before a few of them died. Calloway, Jack, and another one of the doctors eventually pulled through, but the other five didn’t make it.  Ensign Briggs and I, with the help of Dr. Gerald Samuel (the only other person in good health), buried the dead outside the airport limits behind the hangar. We really wanted to get out of there, but Calloway and Jack weren’t exactly making a speedy recovery and the doctor didn’t want them to be moved at all. During his copious amounts of free time, Samuel was able to determine that all of the victims had mosquito bites. Very peculiar.

I took one of the luggage go-carts out of the hangar with Amanda, and we drove through the airport looking for a fuel pump or a tanker truck. I didn’t know where we were going next, but I sure as hell wanted a full tank of gas when we left.

That’s when I first saw them. Coming in from the other side of the airport, a small mob of about a dozen locals was shuffling their way towards us. Briggs wanted to speak with them, but I couldn’t help but feel like something was off about them. There was nothing wrong with how they looked, aside from being locals. It’s just that they didn’t move like they were supposed to. It seemed…inhuman…the way they swayed and staggered about while they approached us. It was almost as if they’d forgotten how to walk. I saw a tanker truck and decided we’d make for that instead. Briggs and I ditched the cart and hopped into the truck. There was some debris in the passenger seat (someone left their windows open), but we took off across the tarmac anyways.

We ran into another problem outside the hangar. Those doctors we buried the week before…they were limping around the corner to greet us. Covered in mud, staggering the same way our pursuers were giving chase they were all converging in on us at the hangar.

That was probably not the best time for Robert to come out to investigate the strange knocking noises he was hearing on the hangar walls.  They were on him and dragged him behind the hangar before we had a chance to do anything. I couldn’t see what they were doing to Robert, but no one came out from behind the hangar for quite some time. We capitalized on this window of opportunity to open up the hangar, get the tanker in, and lock it back up before any of them had a chance to come back.

We started fueling and were trying to figure out a destination to get the hell out of there. Briggs suggested Puerto Rico, our original destination. Samuel suggested warning Haiti that there was some sort of epidemic on the island and to close the border. I really should stop listening to doctors.

We managed to get out of there without a scratch.  Apparently they aren’t too bright….didn’t think to use the door in the back of the hangar…they just kept banging on the walls until they saw we were leaving.

As I was setting the plane up for departure, that’s when I saw the rest of them. A giant mob of hundreds…possibly even a thousand or more…feebly approaching from the terminal. The odd thing was, as we were leaving the ground, I swear I saw the shape of a man on top of the control tower, beckoning them in our general direction. I had absolutely no idea what was going on at the time.  Now I know I should have shot the bastard where he stood. Or at least knocked him off the tower.

Damn it…the clouds are rolling in, and I have to get this equipment under some cover before it gets rained on.  I’ll explain more when I can, but I don’t have an awful amount of free time while we’re dealing with these border attacks. There always seem to be more of them after a storm…

Semper Paratus.

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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.

Photo credit: M Blackhorse

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.

Photo credit: M Blackhorse

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.