September 8th, 2030
I don’t normally do stuff like this, but if I don’t start writing things down, I’m going to lose my mind. Mom called me at four-something yesterday morning, freaking out and telling me to turn on the news. I thought it was a sick joke at first, but all the channels reported the same thing happening across the U.S.; weird objects falling from the sky and … monsters coming out of them, slaughtering people. My hands won’t stop shaking. This is really happening.
September 10th, 2030
Mom is gone. By the time I made it to Lincoln she was missing along with hundreds of others. Hundreds more are dead. Everyone’s in a frenzy, being forced to evacuate. The authorities have been trying to keep the peace, but people are panicking and traffic is insane. I can’t wait here. It’s too dangerous. With mom nowhere to be found, Kelsi and Marshall are my only focus now. This emergency shelter is so crowded. It smells like death …
September 11th, 2030
The city has turned into a war zone. No one knows what these things are. The National Guard flew in yesterday to oversee evacuations and protect the public. But, from what I’ve seen, bullets don’t do a lot of damage. By some miracle, I found Kelsi and Marshall at the shelter this morning—thank God. We’re waiting to board the next shuttle out now.
September 15th, 2030
We’ve been in Greenwood about three days now. The Guard has been bringing in survivors by helicopter and shuttle almost non-stop. From the edge of the local cemetery, I’ve been able to see light blazing against the horizon to the southwest. Soldiers have reported that Lincoln City is a lost cause. If I can see the smoke from almost twenty miles off, I have to agree with them, as much as I don’t want to.
September 25th, 2030
News reports say that D.C. has gone dark. Seventy percent of Congress members are missing or dead. The larger cities seem to be more affected. It’s like the invaders are targeting heavier populations and just wiping them out. The army has set up a fortress in Omaha from what I’ve heard. Word is that we’re getting shipped off there soon. It’s supposed to be safer. Kelsi’s been on edge about every little thing since this started. Guess I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, too. I’m just better at hiding it.
September 30th, 2030
Yesterday, we escaped Greenwood just as the invaders attacked. There wasn’t much warning. The Guard’s defenses were useless. I don’t know if anyone else made it out. At this point, I can’t afford to care. I have to keep myself and my family alive. Marshall suggested we try for Omaha, so that’s where we’re headed. It’s the only place we have left to go. We walk or steal a car if we have to. Options are too limited for us to be picky, no matter how much Kelsi protests. At least her husband has the sense to support most of my ideas.
October 1st, 2030
We stopped in Gretna to restock on supplies, and then Kelsi had the bright idea of insisting we stay. Her general words were, “we’re all tired after close to eight hours of walking and this town looks relatively safe,” or something along those lines. Marshall tried to talk her out of it. She hasn’t listened. I’m about ready to pull out my hair, but I can’t force them to keep going if they don’t want to. The church here has opened their doors to survivors, so it’s as good a place as any to hunker down, I guess. Makes me feel a bit safer, at least, being inside the walls of a church. Marshall suggested we stay in Gretna through the winter and then head for Omaha in April when the weather warms up. I don’t like the idea of staying in one place too long, but I’ll make do for now.
November 27th, 2030
Things have been quiet. People only come into town every week or so now, and their numbers are fewer each time. News and radio channels have gone silent for the most part. Only a few independent stations are still broadcasting. I didn’t realize until a few days ago how widespread the renders are. That’s what people are calling the invaders; something to do with the fact that they “rend” everything they touch. I overheard someone’s radio the other day reporting that the renders invaded areas beyond the U.S. The worst off are cities like London, Moscow, Paris, Hong Kong … the list goes on. The entire world is in shambles. But, now I know for sure that the further we are from large population centers, the greater our odds for survival. I think we’re safe for now, so Kelsi and Marshall can breathe a sigh of relief. But I refuse to get too comfortable.
December 11th, 2030
I’m twenty-five today. Can’t say I ever thought I’d be spending my birthday this year in a crowded church shelter. Mom is supposed to call and sing to me. I miss her. I wish I could know what happened to her, but, then again, I’m too afraid to know.
December 18, 2030
I can’t believe this! How could Kelsi go and pull a stunt like this, now of all times? She just informed me she’s pregnant. She even showed me the pregnancy test to prove it. Worse still, this happened recently. I told her it was a stupid move, and all she said is that it wasn’t intentional. Marshall defended her, but he’s equally at fault—obviously. How those two found the time to … whatever. It’s beyond me. They feel like there’s nothing to be concerned about. They think they’re ready to take care of a child despite the circumstances. I called them both short-sighted idiots.
April 10th, 2031
Kelsi is really starting to show. The morning sickness has been pretty bad. Marshall and I are doing everything we can to look after her, but I’ve made sure she knows how much I disapprove of this whole situation. It’s been almost four months and we’re still not on the best of terms. She’ll break before I do. She always has, ever since we were little. The hospital knows about the pregnancy and has been scheduling appointments as often as they can, which isn’t much. Their staff and resources are already spread thin. But, so far, things are going smoothly. As unhappy as I am about a tiny human growing in my little sister’s body while renders destroy everything around us, I’m relieved there have been no complications. We would have left Gretna by now if I’d had my way, but with Kelsi and Marshall’s poor timing, it looks like we’ll be here for a while longer, at least until after the baby is born. There’s a line forming for the soup kitchen now. Time to get up there before they run out for the night. We can’t let Kelsi go hungry.
July 6th, 2031
We’re not getting any more news reports. It’s been a few days since the last broadcast over TV or radio. We’re officially cut off from the rest of the country. Even the military officials here in Gretna don’t know the status of their dozens of other divisions. We’re completely in the dark here. There have been some rumors of the renders building something in Lincoln. Nothing definitive. Frankly, I’m not sure I want to know if there’s any truth to that.
August 20th, 2031
Kelsi and Marshall welcomed their son into the world early this morning. He’s nearly a month premature. Isaac Marshall Etheridge. He’s so small and frail. I held him just for a couple of minutes before I couldn’t stand it anymore and I left the hospital. It was selfish of them to do this. A helpless infant doesn’t stand a chance. Our survival already hangs by a thread and a baby only complicates everything by a thousand times. That child has no future. Even if he is my nephew, I can’t say I have much hope for little Isaac.
September 23rd, 2031
Renders invaded Gretna last night. There weren’t many survivors from what I could tell. We got separated from the others who made it out. It was chaos. I managed to lead Marshall, Kelsi and Isaac to safety. Pretty sure I just experienced my first anxiety attack … felt like I was going to throw up and pass out for a while. But I kept it to myself and powered through. There’s already enough going on. Marshall twisted his ankle as we ran, so we’re moving slower than I’d like. Kelsi and Isaac both have been crying off and on over the last several hours. We’ve holed up for now in an abandoned farmhouse. Hopefully, the original owners don’t come back, especially considering I helped myself to the 9mm pistol and box of ammo in their closet. I promised we’d stay a couple nights to give everyone a chance to rest, but that’s all. After that, we’re heading to Omaha. It’s our last chance.
September 27th, 2031
I buried my family today …