Who: Chel
Where: Mid-Illinois, about five days from Haven
When: June 13, afternoon
Invited: Open; Anyone in Area
Status: Incomplete

June’s warming sun beat down through a thin veil of clouds.  It reflected in blinding sparkles off of the windshields of the abandoned cars lining the road and shimmered invitingly in the distance.  The four-lane highway stretched unbroken for miles in every direction, decorated only with signs of a dying civilization.

A single person trudged warily down the road in this lonely land.  She walked with her head down, a battered, blue Cubs cap shielding her eyes from the brilliant, energy-sapping sun.  An old knapsack was swung over her shoulder, and though it was not bulging, it did appear quite full.  The girl’s pink tank-top clung to her figure, revealing light sunburns on her shoulders, neck, and arms, and the snug jean-shorts she wore exposed her legs to be in a similar state.

Who: Joshua

Where: Saluda, SC

When: June 13, afternoon

Invited: Anyone in the area, not that I'm expecting anyone just yet.

Status: Complete

One stuffed box of file folders was all that remained of Joshua's task here in the office he'd been given in the county courthouse. Thing 2 had decided to take a nap in one of the empty boxes, that had once been filled with similar folders, now located securely in the records vault. One last box and then his task here would be done. It would be a long time, if ever, before anyone else would read these files once he was done with them, but it needed doing. The tedious distraction of impersonal paperwork, no matter how backlogged it had become, was one of the things that had kept him sane as Fate's Handmaiden had wrought its destruction. One at a time he began taking the folders, opening them up. Taking a form from the tray in front of his desk and began filling it with his careful longhand to be placed in the folder before its final disposition in the vaults.

He was methodical, impersonal as he filled out the death certificates, the sole bit of compassion being that those who had killed themselves after being diagnosed he listed as Plague: Strain 2006A rather than suicide. He worked quietly, stopping twice to flex his aching fingers, and once to get a new pen. It was three short hours, but he had reached the last folder.

He gently placed that last certificate in the last folder. Carefully placed the folder back in the box. He started to rise, but couldn't. He collapsed back across the desk, tears streaming down his face, as he quietly cried. This continued for several minutes until he had to loudly blow his tear clogged nose, stirring Thing 2 from her nap.

Who: Joshua

Where: Batesburg, SC

When: June 13, late morning

Invited: Anyone in the area, not that I'm expecting anyone just yet.

Status: Complete

The drive south was uneventful, though at 25 mph it was also boring. He turned the radio on so he could listen as he drove. That produced an unexpected sound from behind his seat, making it all the better that he had been going only 25. It was Thing 2, who had decided that the cab of the propane tanker was the perfect place to hide from her sister Thing 1. Two more stations had disappeared since yesterday, probably victims of power or equipment failure, since they were all automated. About a third of the one's still running were carrying calming official propaganda, a second third had religious propaganda, and the final third had people's personal playlists running on a loop, seldom with the format that the station had used before the Deluge. Though he didn't listen to it, his personal favorite for sheer joyous chutzpah in the face of calamity was the NPR station in Charlotte that now billed itself as WANK, your death metal station for the Apocalypse!

It took him about a half-hour for Joshua to figure out what to do, but even then he didn't quite get it right, so that prepended to what he had intended to record, was a good bit of his speaking to himself as he was preparing to record.

Joshua got everything ready to loop and then went out to the truck and listened long enough to WBLR to know it was playing his recording now, but not long enough to know the mistakes he'd made at the beginning were also being broadcast. He intended to fill up with propane now, then collect Thing 2 from the office he'd left her in, checking the answering machine on the off hope that someone called.

Who: Syusuke
Where: A few miles away from Haven, IL
When: 13 June, morning
Invited: Anyone who happens to be in the area
Status: Complete

It was almost unbelievable that the sun could shine down from a clear blue sky with fluffy white clouds happily sailing by when the world was as messed up as it was. Fuji Syusuke had spent the night in an abandoned trailer that had proved great protection, both from the chill of the night and the wild life that still existed and desperately roamed the area for food of any kind. The young boy had very little food himself, all that was left now was a box of green tea flavored pocky, a bottle with maybe one serving of water left, and some crackers. Hardly nutritious food, but at least the pocky could prove a valuable carbohydrate source.

( Syusuke had left New York on a motorcycle borrowed from Echizen Ryoga... )

Who: Joshua

Where: Amick Estate, on the southwest shore of the former Lake Murray, SC

When: June 13, early morning

Invited: Anyone in the area, not that I'm expecting anyone just yet.

Status: Complete

As he had for several mornings now, Joshua awoke with the certain conviction that the one rooster he had was well aware of that fact, and thus need not fear having its neck wrung because it crowed too loudly. At least a couple more hens had started to brood. Assuming nothing got into his new-built chicken run, he could look forward to young chicks in three weeks, he mused.

A cold shower did more to wake him up than the rooster. To conserve propane, he'd turned the hot water heater to as low as it would go, 80° according to the dial, just enough to keep the water from being nerve-shattering frigid instead of the merely cold it was.

Speaking of fuel, one of his tanks had been almost empty last night and was probably dry now. While technically, he could run on the other five he'd installed for as many weeks, it was as good an excuse as any to head to Batesburg again. He was sore from post hole digging for the new fence, though not as sore as he would have been without the power auger, so he decided that finishing the new fence would have to wait, despite it being one of his priorities. He could check to see if anyone had been through there, and try his hand at raiding the self-storage place near the propane depot. He had no idea what he might find there, but he was tired of picking through houses, especially when doing so ran the risk of coming across another unburied corpse.

However, before he could play hooky from being a farmer, he still had breakfast and chores to do. He was thankful that he was almost out of the frozen breakfast burritos. He'd been hooked on Corn Pops for breakfast for years, but the need to eat the frozen foods first had ended that addiction for now. Morning chores weren't too onerous. Boss was only producing enough to need milking once a day and he did that in the evening, and he had more hauling of feed and fertilizer to do then as well. He had considered switching to milking Boss in the morning to even out his work, but the Things preferred an evening drink of milk.

Who: Ami
Where: Haven, IL
When: 13 June, midday
Invited: Anyone wandering through town
Status: Incomplete

Distraction was the name of the game. If Ami sat around for too long, she found herself slipping away again and that was never a good thing. Especially not without Adam around to take care of her. So, she focused on distraction, beginning with the task of gathering supplies. The generator wasn't going to last forever without fuel, but she needed to figure out where precisely to find fuel … and how to transport it back. That meant maps and maps meant the library.

Before then, though she would start small and she knew the perfect place to start small.

The local druggist so far had been a reliable and helpful friend. Failing that, she'd take the Ducati over to the grocery. Shouldering the backpack that she'd found in one of the closets, Ami stepped onto the quiet and empty streets of Haven.

It was time to go shopping.