[Written on a scrap piece of paper, stained and muddied.]

This note isn’t for anyone, it’s not for you and it’s not for me. It just exists, my only testament to the fact I’ve survived this long. It’s been over two years now, thousands of miles from home and hundreds of miles walked. I’m no closer to anything. We came to San Mora at the promise of a cure, a salvation, a forbidden fruit that was too good to be true. The more I stay here and speak to the locals, the less I trust them.

But what does it matter? Even if their cure does exists, it won’t help her. Nothing will, not when I couldn’t. [added at a later date, in a different colored pen, same hand writing]

The others want to sneak in, see what they are hiding..if they are hiding anything. I volunteered to be one of the two to break into their labs, me and some guy called Dane. He’s young, bit of a scrapper from the looks of it, I hope he realizes that unless he’s trying to get himself killed…this isn’t the best life plan. There’s this one guard they have, Snood, I have no idea if that’s his real name but he wears a snood..so yeah. Biggest cunt I’ve laid eyes on, and I’ve been to the Houses of Parliament…heh..now I’m even writing these shitty jokes.

Half of these people are too friendly and the other half just seem to want to herd us like cattle, maybe it’s wrong that I don’t mind either way. I failed in what I came to do, that’s the kicker…travel across a state on a shitty boat to find out your world still ended two years ago and nothing will bring that back.

I’ve survived 867 days since this virus changed everything, I should feel like I accomplished something I guess, every dead I walk past is just another person I beat. But then again, I think they got off easy.