Arklay Island. What a shithole this is, but it’s the best we’ve seen yet. Thora and I have been walking tthe better part of two years, I suppose. Indian Springs held out a good long while before the outbreak got in. Maybe ten months, I guess. It got my sweet wife….poor Emily. When Thora, her best friend and our neighbor, and I decided to go, Emily was a gibbering mess. We left her, still tied to the bed. I didn’t have the guts to end her. I’m not sure I’ll ever accept that. What a fucking coward I am.

Anyway, we headed north toward Reno, but gave the city a wide pass, not wanting to get taggled up in it. Scavenged what we could from houses along the way and just kept going. Lost my pistol as fled a mob, right around the California boarder. Still had the stupid ass crossbow I found in that ranch house, though.

Got sick in the mountains. Thora said I almost died, but I think she was over reacting. I lost a shit load of weight, though. We ended up wintering there and wasn’t fit to travel again until summer. I got really weak, it sucked.

We made straight for the coast, then traveled up it. That’s how we got here. A few times we found small settlements, tried staying at one or two, but it never panned out. At the last one we heard about this place.

So, here we are….