I privatized some journal entries because I wasn't sure if I should reveal them to the world. But the laptop's running low on batteries and we haven't got a new generator to replace the older one, so the energy's just for the basic stuff. I figure if anyone's alive out there and they see this, I gotta keep the blog updated so they know if the Settlement is still a safe haven, or if we've killed ourselves off.
I can't lie though. New York ain't the safest place to be, even before the shit hit the fan.
Anyway. My leg's okay now. They let me tag along nights again, but instead of sticking to just three people like usual they insist on keeping it to four. They mean well, but I can't think of it as anything except a big "You fucked up" sign plastered across my forehead. I can't take it back though.
Got no one to blame but myself.
I fell, yesterday. Well. More like last night. Early this morning? Sometime after midnight.
See, this is what happened.
Me and Anatole and Mitchell do a lot of walking around with really big sticks and one gun and hope that we don't run into a mob of undead fuckers in the middle of the night. See, the night watch, that's a volunteer job. No one actually wants to do it, but if it's up for grabs the same people keep volunteering.
I try not to look too closely at why I keep asking to go.
I don't really... Memory's a little fuzzy. They gave me some white pills and put me on the top floor by a window. I don't like this room, but my knee's all sprained and shit. I got pissed off at the pictures on the walls, and it took me a fucking hour to pull down all five of them and then hobble back to the god damn windows to hurl them as far as I could.
Fuck. I need new sneakers.
What was I? Oh, right. So. I fell.
We was walkin' around. Outside. Mitchell wanted to see if we could land some generators for space-heaters and stuff. I mean. Obviously the Jimmies aren't going to need them, and the kid, Cory, is gettin' worse so he needs his own room. There's a couple apartment buildings on this block, and there's a fuckin' hotel or motel thing a couple blocks down, and I don't know whose bright idea it was to go at night, but that's what we did. Well. They did. I just followed.
It's something. I can see a nice chunk of Queens from this window. I hate it. There's fire burning somewhere, and it's been getting bigger, but not really spreading out. Just thick black smoke from one place pretty far off. Makes me uncomfortable to watch. Fuckin' knee needs to get better soon.
So we went two buildings down. The one next door was for the people in the morning. So. Two blocks down is a wreck. The lobby wall closest to the boulevard is gone. There's just cars and shit all through the goddamn first floor. I don't know why the fuck that didn't happen to our building.
Am I cursing a lot? I guess I am. Knee hurts. Gonna take another pill.
Oh. Oh man. I think I'm just gonna. What the hell is this? Vicodin?
Fuck it. I'm gonna finish this later.