The Monster Journal Read online

  The Monster Journal

  Emma Liggett

  Copyright 2019 Emma Liggett

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art: SelfPubBookCovers.com/FrinaArt

  ISBN: 978-0-9990525-3-2

  For the Monsters I met along the way.

  ~Day 1

  Hello. My name is Dusty.

  If you’re human and you’re reading this, then I guess you can keep reading. I can’t really stop you, but I also can’t guarantee this journal will have a happy ending.

  And if you’re reading this and you’re not human? Screw you. I hope your walnut-sized brain can understand enough of the English language to understand me because you’re a walking pile of garbage. Put this down and screw off.

  Anyway. Like I said, my name is Dusty Gale. I know, it’s kind of a dumb name. Blame my parents and their nonexistent sense of humor. I’m nineteen years old (Maybe twenty? I’m not really sure, I haven’t been keeping track of dates. I know I’m close to being twenty, though.) I’m a former college student. I have a mom and a dad and an older brother named Ocean. (Get it? Ocean Gale? Yeah, he doesn’t like it either.) But I haven’t seen any of them in a while.

  Mark just asked me what I’m writing. I told him I found a blank journal and I’m writing in it. He laughed. I don’t mind. I can see why he’d find this funny. It’s not like writing in a blank notebook is going to help us. But maybe it’ll be nice to have a place to share my thoughts. Don’t get me wrong, I like talking to Mark. But maybe this’ll help me from getting bored while we’re hiding out.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this. But then again, what harm could it do? I found a few pens and pencils in the librarian’s drawer, along with a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet. Yay, my least favorite Shakespeare play. Whatever, at least it’s a reading material.

  Anyway. I’ve started writing, might as well keep going. So. Let’s keep going.

  But how do I start?

  …Let’s start with today.

  Okay. So. Everyone has things they miss about their old lives. I don’t think there’s a single person alive who doesn’t miss something. Family. Friends. Chocolate. Oh, God, chocolate. What I wouldn’t give to have a chocolate bar right about now. There was this candy bar I liked before the world ended — Chumbler's. Ocean hated them, but that’s okay. More for me. Crunchy and chewy and chocolaty… God, I’m getting chills just thinking about it. I can feel my mouth watering. Don’t blame me if I drool on the page.

  Anyway. Getting back on track. Like I said, we all miss things. Chocolate. Family. Electricity. Heck, I once met a lady who said she missed her job. Imagine being in such a terrible place you miss your job.

  But the reason I bring this up is because Mark's been missing something from his old life. Music. He’s told me over and over he used to listen to music all the time. In the shower, before he went to bed, in the car, everywhere. He told me he never really had a preference for different genres, either. He’d listen to it all: country, pop, classical, even music from video games.

  So when we found the radio today, he took it as a godsend.

  It wasn’t working, which was probably why nobody had already snatched it up. Against my better judgment, we decided to spend the day in the library. I guess it’s an okay place to hole up for a while. The walls are thick, there’s only one main entrance, and although windows are small, though they let in enough light to see. I can think of worse places to hide.

  Mark sat at a table near a yellowed window and set to work fixing the radio. I don’t have much of a mind for technical stuff or mechanics, so I spent most of the day scouring the shelves, looking for anything interesting. Most of the books were gone, the shelves mostly empty. I thought it was weird somebody would steal books since they don’t have any value anymore. But in the basement, I found the remains of a campfire. Hastily put out, I could see what they had used for kindling. Pages.

  Burning books to keep warm. Not a bad idea. Sorry, but if things get cold, you might have to watch out.

  I didn’t find much while I was scrounging around. Most of the books were gone, and what little was left were files about taxes and civil law. Why did people burn interesting books and leave the law books alone? Maybe they were hoping humanity would survive, and we’d need laws to help us move forward. Personally, I’d rather have something fun to read.

  I did, however, find something interesting in the desk near the front of the library. Hidden away in one of the drawers was a paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet. Yay. But seeing as how I was going to be stuck here for the rest of the day, and it didn’t look like Mark was making much headway with trying to repair the radio, I grabbed it. Even if it wasn’t my preferred reading material, it still smelled good. Is that weird? To like the smell of books? Whatever.

  Rummaging even deeper in the drawers, I found this blank notebook and a few pens and pencils. Not very valuable. But remember: kindling.

  Finding a seat near Mark, I flipped open Romeo and Juliet and began skimming the pages in the dim light of the faded windows. Outside, the sky was probably blue. But in here, the windows are so tinted with dust and grime, the light turned yellow in the dusty air of the library.

  I’d just gotten to Juliet’s famous soliloquy when I heard a disembodied, static voice start speaking. I jumped and turned my attention to Mark, who was grinning at the radio with a smile to rival the Cheshire cat. That madman got it to work. Stuffing the book into my backpack, I stood and paced over to Mark’s side of the table, leaning over to get a better look. Mark shot me a triumphant glance. Smugness aside, I had to admit, that was pretty impressive.

  He turned the dial, flipping between channels. Honestly, I didn’t expect to hear much. He wanted music, but I was sure we were going to get more of the same old emergency broadcast. He turned the dial slowly, searching for any voice in the static. It didn’t take long before we come across something—as expected, the emergency broadcast notice.

  “THIS IS NOT A TEST. THIS IS A NATIONAL EMERGENCY. WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO—“

  Mark changed the station. I don’t blame him. Even though we’d both love to hear another human voice, we’ve listened to that message enough to recite it in our sleep. It never changed. From the first day since the invasion, that broadcast has been playing the same message, over and over. By now, it doesn’t say anything we don’t already know.

  Most of the human race is dead or imprisoned. The rest of us are considered ‘wild.’ We’re mostly left alone. Except for when those creatures decide they need to ruin our lives more than they already have. Then they hunt us down like deer during hunting season. Only, instead of killing us, we’re taken in as slaves or pets.

  The last thing I need is a reminder of what’s going on out there. In rural areas, like out here, those things haven’t settled yet. They’re mostly congregated around large cities and towns. That’s the only reason why some of humanity is still free, and not forced into slavery.

  But once they start cultivating rural areas…

  Sighing, he continued turning the dial. I knew he was listening for music. Me? I’d settle for any voice to keep us company.

  “You’re listening to New World Radio. The best radio station for our new world.” The voice made us jump, and we shared a look of relief before turning our attention back to the radio. The voice was male, and he sounded tired. But from that brief opening, it sounded like some sort of radio talk show.

  It wasn’t music, but God. It felt so good to hear another voice. A human voice.

  “I regret to inform our listeners that my colleague and friend, Hector, died this morning. He was set upon by a creature on his way to work. He attempted to fight back, but he…” The voice went quiet for a moment.

 
“He will be missed.”

  Our grins disappeared.

  Afterwards, after listening to the man on the radio lament about his lost friend, the radio began to play a soft, melancholy tune — Hector’s last song.

  Quietly, I stepped away from the table and took a seat on the other side of the room. Mark didn’t try to stop me. I sat back down, pulled Romeo and Juliet out of my backpack, and returned to where I’d left off.

  I still can hear Mark still fiddling with the dial. He isn’t finding much. He’s still trying, though, still fiddling with the radio.

  A little while ago, we heard music playing. It was a different station than before. The song had a fast pace and an upbeat tune, and it sounded like something you might dance to. Almost sounded like swing music.

  But then the lyrics started, and Mark hastily changed the station. I turned back to my book, hot irritation pricking at the backs of my eyes. Those lyrics hadn’t been sung in any human language. Mark is still flipping through the channels on the radio, but I’ve given up on paying attention.

  They took our homes, our families, our cities, our everything. Now, they’re taking our music. It’s another reminder this world doesn’t belong to us anymore.

  ~Day 2

  The sun outside is setting. Mark and I are settling down for the night. He’s turned off the radio, but he says he’s going to bring it with us. I think it’s a good idea. Even if we didn’t find much this time, maybe we can get better reception in a different area. Maybe get some different radio stations.

  We’ve been holed up in this library for a while now. According to the signs coming in, the town is called Weed. What a name. Anyway, figured I should write down a few things before it gets too dark to write. Mark and I are going to be doing some traveling tomorrow, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to record anything while we’re on the road. Might as well write it down now.

  …You know, it wasn’t always just Mark and me, all alone in the world. The first day those things invaded, I hopped in a car with my best friend Leah, and we made a break for home. We were college kids. Freshmen. We were just getting a taste of the world outside the lives we’d always known when those things decided to make earth their new home. I’d known Leah for years, and we hailed from the same hometown. She was a girl who was easy to get along with. With her golden hair and thick glasses, she was always cracking jokes and smiling, brightening up the room with her relaxed demeanor.

  But there were no jokes that day. No smiles, either. We were heading in the same direction, and if anyone could help us figure out what to do, it would be our parents. We couldn’t reach our families on our phones, so we decided to risk driving.

  Imagine that. College kids, getting our first taste of the real world, and as soon as something terrible happened, we ran for our parents. Guess no matter how old you are, you always figure your parents will know what to do.

  Leah was driving, and she was the one who pulled over to pick up Mark and his friends. I told her not to, but she knew them from around school and said they’d be okay. It was Mark, his buddy Roman, and Roman’s girlfriend, Abby.

  I hate to say it, considering what happened to her, but I didn’t like Abby. At least, not at first. She was a Freshman like us, so I saw her around school sometimes. I even had her in a few classes. Before the world ended, she was the kind of girl who would laugh at a teacher behind their back for having a lisp. She was the kind of girl who would get up in the middle of class to go sit on her boyfriend’s lap. She was the kind of girl who would mock classmates, and then glare at you if she caught you staring.

  I saw her mocking a classmate once. She pointed him out to her friends and mimicked the way he stuttered when he spoke. She caught me watching, and gave me a long, hard glare. I could never figure out if her eyes were blue or grey. They were a weird in-between color. Kind of like mine. She mellowed out once I got to know her a little better. But yeah, when we first met, I thought she was kind of a bitch.

  Her boyfriend was a little easier to get along with, even if he was a little intimidating at first. Roman was a Senior, but judging from the number of Freshmen courses he was still in, he was probably going to be a Senior for a very, very long time. He was tall and wide, and with his short neck and square jaw, he looked more like a pit bull than a college student. He didn’t think much, and the thoughts he had weren’t much deeper than a puddle. But he was okay to deal with. He helped intimidate people who would have otherwise robbed us blind. He never actually hurt anyone, but I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  I knew very little about Mark before he got into that car with us, squeezing into the backseat between Roman and the door. He didn’t have to squeeze for too long. Abby decided to forgo her seat in favor of Roman’s lap, allowing Mark a bit more room. I don’t remember where they said they were heading. But I think they just wanted to get out of town, and since we had a car, we were their best option.

  It took a while to reach mine and Leah’s hometown. The roads were packed, and a bunch of people had abandoned their cars in the middle of the road. I’d only seen that sort of thing in movies. Leah pulled her car over to the side of the road and drove past, driving next to the road as we passed those cars. I was glad we were traveling on flat terrain. I didn’t think that would have worked on a mountain road. At one point during the drive, we noticed there was a contraflow, both sides of the road going the same direction. Abby took out her phone and snapped a few pictures.

  To be completely honest, I have no idea how we weren’t spotted and rounded up on that drive. Dumb luck, I guess. The ride was quiet and tense. I think we all knew after today, nothing would ever be the same.

  When we reached our town, we didn’t want to split up. The drive over had spooked us. When we’d turned on the radio, almost every radio station had been broadcasting the same emergency message. It told people to stay in their homes and to lock the doors. Other radio stations, the ones where people were still holed up, were the only real sources of information. We’ve been invaded, they said. By creatures of varying shapes and sizes. They weren’t killing anyone unless they fought back. Nobody had a name for them yet, so everyone was just calling them monsters.

  We switched off the radio when we heard the live broadcast of a monster breaking into the radio station. We heard gunshots, swearing, pained gurgling, and then the station went silent.

  Leah suggested we go to her house first since it was closer than mine. I tried to protest, but she was the one driving. Mark, Abby, and Roman wanted to find somewhere safe to hole up for a while. I didn’t have much of a choice.

  I’d been to Leah's house several times. I hardly recognized her street. Debris was strewn around the street, and she slowly maneuvered her car to drive around it. One of the houses near the end of the block looked like it had caught fire at some point, and while the blaze had died out, smoke hung in the air, and hot embers still peered at us from blacked wooden beams. Further down the street, a small car had been overturned, now sitting in the middle of the road with its underside exposed to the sun. I don’t know if it was coincidence, luck, or someone’s version of a joke, but a ‘no parking’ sign was balanced precariously on what was now the top of the car.

  Leah’s house was still standing. But it wasn’t in great condition. She pulled over the car to the side of the curb, and we all got out. The wooden porch had a massive hole in front of the door, like a great weight had been slammed into it. We stepped around it, wary of the way the porch now groaned at the weight of so many people, and headed inside.

  As soon as we stepped in, I felt Leah tense beside me and heard a soft gasp escape her. She was trying to keep it together, and as I took in the condition of the house, I reached for her hand and clenched it tightly. Her glasses were fogging up as hot tears met chilled air. None of us made a sound as we filed inside the ruined house. What looked like gunshots had been blown into the walls, alongside what looked like holes made from fists. Furniture was overturned, and nearly every window was broken.
Glass crunched under our shoes as we walked carefully, none of us daring to make a sound.

  There were no bodies. To this day, I’m glad there were no bodies. I don’t know what Leah would have done if she’d seen the body of her mom or dad or her little sister. But no, the house was empty, devoid even of corpses.

  We split up to search through the rooms. Finding nothing, we eventually congregated into the kitchen. That must be instinctual for people, to gather where there’s food. At parties or the end of the world, the kitchen is the place to be.

  My voice was hoarse when I spoke, my choked words the only sound in the quiet house. “I need to go see my family.” Though the question was directed at Leah, I didn’t look at her when I said it. I needed to go to them. I needed to find them. If my house was as bad as Leah’s… I just needed to find my parents.

  She didn’t speak at first. I think she was at war with herself, torn between wanting to stay in her home, despite the damage, and wanting to run and not think about what could have happened here.

  “…My aunt doesn’t live far,” Her voice was weak as she tried to rationalize the situation to herself. “ Maybe they went to her place. We could try there?”

  I remember shaking my head. “Maybe, but I need to go home.”

  Through our discussion, the other three remained quiet, though I could feel their eyes on us. I bet they were all thinking of going home too. Or stealing the car and making a break for it. I wouldn’t have blamed them. If Leah wasn’t going to let me go home, I was thinking about it too.

  “How far is your house?” Unlike me, she’d never been to my house.

  “The other end of town. Where’s your Aunt?”

  “About a mile down the road.” With a brief pause that might have been her trying to choke back tears, she adds, “I can walk if you take the car.”

  “And what about us? Are you just going to leave us here to die?” It was Abby who spoke up. Roman was seated at the kitchen table, and she was perched in his lap. If he was a pit bull, then she was a Chihuahua.