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February 13th, 2018

A lot has went on, so I figured I'd sit down to write about it. Maybe someone will find it on my cold dead body and gain some insight. Or maybe I'm just bored out of my fuckin' skull. I'm Deupty Thomas Clemons, and until about two and a half weeks ago, I helped keep the people of Wrangell safe. Now, I'm the only one left with a badge. We lost a lot of good men and women in the first few days, even though we thought we were prepared. Had emergency stocks set up at several churches in case shit went bad, and we had evacuation procedures for any sign of infected people. Well, shit went bad a little too quick.

Long story short, it spread a lot faster than we had thought it would. That boat showed up in the night and some well meaning folks tried to help the injured people on board. Apparently they were trying to kill their neighbors a few hours later. People panicked and ran like cattle through the streets. I like to think some made it into the woods and are still alive, but I think I know better. Even in the best of times, surviving in those woods is serious work.

Regardless, the present situation is fuckin' grim, and I don't know that I can keep on like this. The people looked to me for leadership when I started bringing survivors up to the lodge, but I just can't. Something inside of me broke after seeing all that death. And that little girl...

Anyway, I threw in with a group setting off to get some insulin for the Ringgold girl. Jessica, Jennifer? I can't remember her name. Damn near as soon as we got into town that fool ass kid Eric pulled out a piece and started shooting at these... zombies? I never really thought about what to call them. We mainly just don't speak about of if we can help it, and we just say "them." I mean, I get that they're zombies, but I just feel like an asshole calling them that. Well, Eric shoots at the zombies and they come out of every nook and cranny at us. I watched two of the people we went with get ripped to pieces. Don't even remember their names. The worst part is I don't much care. We went back to the lodge and found some others, so our ragtag group made a second go at it. This time we got there and managed to not lose anyone. Hustled out of the hospital and into an ambulance thanks to some guy who use to be an EMT. For the life of me I can't remember his name. I think his name was Elijah. Had some politician from the lower 48 with us too, and somehow he's kept his arm candy alive through this. Nova is one of the few people at the lodge I respect. I see the way she approaches the situation and I can't help but think her people are the only ones who will be alright after this whole thing.

That brings us to today. Well we did kill some zombies last night and that weird guy Hannibal lost his arm. At least he didn't turn. But anyway, we're about to head into town and check out the docks to see if we can lead the rest of the people out of the lodge. This might work, but I'm having a damn hard time building up any enthusiasm for the task.