Monday, October 22, 2012
Still August 21 I think. So late, maybe it's the 22nd. Can't find my watch, so I'm not sure.
I got the pails of water, and it was every bit as scary as I knew it would be. More even, because I think someone might have seen me. I got to the river okay, but while I was there, I got the creepiest feeling. I didn't hear anything strange. I didn't see anything. But you know that feeling you get when someone is watching you? I swear, while I was filling up my pails, every hair on my body stood straight up. Like some part of me from primitive days knew something was up. (Ha-ha, lost and unlamented Church. I just entertained the idea of evolution. And no one can punish me for it!)
Damn it, but someone could. There aren't just rape gangs out there. There are those who still hold to the religion despite the fact it's what killed us. They’re out there, running around, passing judgment, killing ‘sinners’. Of course, not many realize fanatical adherence to the old ways is to blame. I'm one of the few who knows exactly what happened.
I've seen the continuation of the old thought regime. Early on after the blasts while we still had some semblance of a police force and I felt I could walk around without fear, a couple of women were found hanging from an oak tree. Their sexual parts had been mutilated. Signs were nailed to their chests that read 'Whore'. So the old guard is still out there, still looking to keep us blasphemers in line.
Anyway (getting back to the subject after my seriously freaked-out brain has gone off on another tangent), it felt like someone was in the stand of trees that surrounds the river. Watching me. Boy, I moved fast despite those damned pails being so heavy to carry. I was ready to drop them in an instant if I saw anyone, and I took a really circuitous route back to the house. It took me a good twenty minutes to get back home even though the river is only a block away separated by a stand of trees the width of a football field. If someone was out there and he tried to follow me, I either lost him or he decided I wasn't worth the effort. I got back home okay, the pails managed to remain half-full after being sloshed all over the place, and Mom is still asleep. I might stay awake for awhile, just to keep watch and make sure though. I've got my baseball bat and a butcher knife. Wishing I had a blaster or even one of those old bullet guns, though I don't have a clue how to use either. You'd think someone who has worked with law enforcement all these years would know a thing or two about firearms. But since I could never legally carry, I never bothered to pay attention. My loss. I hope it doesn't end up being the difference between life and death.