Entry #17

April 6, 2011

I was talking with Sal, Kevin and John last night. There seems to be a bitter resentment forming through out the neighborhood. Someone has been going around whispering into ears. It’s not hard to imagine who. I haven’t seen a warm look on David’s wife since his death. Of course I understand, but now her depression has turned into scorning. She blames me. She blames us all, I think. I must not dwell on it. I am truly sorry about what happened, I am, but that’s as far as I can allow myself to be affected by it, for my own family’s sake (and my own).

The guys want to get out of here as well. We’ve only a few, albeit poor, options though. I don’t want to bring a bunch of eaters with me, but I know I can’t do this alone. Right now I can either try to get us to my brothers house, as was our original plan, or we can go with John, to his parents property some sixty miles away in Okeechobee. Sixty miles isn’t exactly right down the road. Either way, we will have to move through some pretty dense urban areas to get to either place and that scares the hell out of me.

We still don’t know the full effects on our own town, much less the dozens of others we’d have to go through. We’ve been discussing doing another run outside the community to see what lies beyond. We were thinking of making a go at getting three miles west, on foot, cutting through the wooded areas to stay off the major roads. We will inevitably run into other similar communities and populated areas. How we will deal with that is still up for debate; we’ve all got ideas, but that doesn’t mean they’ll work.

I’m a bit unsure now how sound leaving here would be. There is safety in numbers and going off with a small group can be as ill fated as living in an unsustainable location with a large one. That’s just it though, the un-sustainability of it all. We’ve little open land if we come to need to plant food. However planting crops will take months until harvest and even with my small heirloom seed bank, we couldn’t produce nearly enough to feed more than a few people. We already saw some minor hostilities erupt from our previous food run some days back. Those with empty pantries squared off against those with kids, neither side wanting or willing to bend to the other. I don’t know how much was just initial panic, fear of the unknown or full-blown self preservation. I suppose the two are not so different in the end.

I guess I’ve addressed my own hesitation on leaving, but there is still that nagging voice in the back of my head seeding doubt. Perhaps it comes down to that old saying “Do something; even if its wrong, do something!”

At any rate we must still continue on. I need to take another inventory of what we have left in our own pantry so we can plan out our next few meals. Food fatigue is a dangerous enemy and it’s not been unknown for starving people to refuse food if it is the only thing they’ve been eating for extended periods of time. Particularly in our own society, where variety is abundant, people will grow weary of canned soup and green beans after time. The freezer will be of little use to us soon, as we are running low on fuel to run the genny, so tonight I think Ill cook up some of the last meats we had packed in there. I don’t like doing that however, since using the grill outdoors sends aromas into the air like a bon-fire saying “Hey, all you hungry people, we’ve got delicious steaks over here!” Maybe I will pan fry it on the propane camp stove and just crack the window for ventilation.

I must go prepare for tomorrow nights excursion. We will leave an hour after sundown, but must use tonight to plan as much as we can while keeping it as quiet as possible. The other think we are going out to get them food though they aren’t exactly jumping up and down to come along; perfectly content to let others risk their lives to feed their own bellies. They will be pretty sore when we don’t come back with much.