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Journal Entry - Day 153 Since the Fall
The air tonight was thick with rot. The kind of smell that clings to your lungs and makes you want to stop breathing just to escape it. I'd been moving through the old rail yard, scavenging for anything useful. Place was dead quiet–too quiet.
Raven Cross
Tue, 19 Aug 2025 00:09:43 -0700
That's when I saw them. Three of them, stumbling out from behind a line of rusted freight cars. Not the slow, brainless kind either. These were the fast movers–jaws clicking, heads twitching like broken marionettes. They'd caught my scent.
I didn't run. I couldn't–not with the narrow corridors of rusted steel all around me. So I crouched behind a stack of crates, drew the Xentra-silenced 1911 from my thigh holster, and waited.
The pistol felt good in my hands–solid, reliable, mine. The first round dropped the closest one with a soft pop, the kind of sound that gets swallowed by the night. The second stumbled, and I put two more in its skull before it could howl. The third came at me fast, teeth snapping. I waited until it was so close I could see the split in its lower lip before I pulled the trigger. Another soft pop. Another body down.
Raven Cross
Wed, 20 Aug 2025 15:15:25 -0700
Silence again.
I holstered the 1911, heart still pounding, and kept moving. This pistol it's more than just a weapon. Out here, it's a promise. A promise that as long as I can pull the trigger, I'm not done yet.
Tomorrow, I'll have to move farther south. Supplies are drying up here. But tonight, I'm alive–and they're not.
Raven Cross
Fri, 22 Aug 2025 00:20:20 -0700
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