Dusty's Diary 4: One Frustrated Man's Apocalypse Story by Bobby Adair

Author:Bobby Adair [Adair, Bobby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beezle Media, LLC
Published: 2019-06-25T22:00:00+00:00

January 15th, fourth entry

As I came up alongside Amelia, I said, “Sorry.”

“Who gives a shit? If you don’t, I don’t.”

“I do. You’re right. I need to know what I’m doing.”

“My god, wasn’t me just saying that enough?”

"Because you're a teenager who knows too much about everything for no reason I can explain, and I'm old enough to be your father, plus a few years, and you make me feel stupid."

Amelia huffed. “Sorry. I didn’t intend to.”

That was as close to détente as we were going to get, so I asked, “Can we really get in and out of the central library alive?”

“I’ve done it.”

“Can I?”

“I’ll get you in and out.”

“Promise?” I smiled widely.

“I’ll do the best I can.”

And that was the most I was going to get. “What kind of information are we looking for once we’re there? I mean, we can’t just steal all the books we need and tote them out, right?”

“Geography, for one.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Think about an island like Aruba.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like to settle there?”

“I know people who’ve gone. They liked it.”

“Besides being ten miles off the coast of Venezuela, meaning it might have been a refuge for South Americans looking to escape the carnage on the continent, hence teeming with Shroomheads, it’s also one of the most arid islands in the Caribbean. It only gets twenty inches of rain a year. It’s mostly desert. It would be hard to grow crops there. So what happens when you suffer through a few years of drought?”

Drought? In the Caribbean. Never crossed my mind. “How do you know this stuff?”

“How do you not?”

“No, seriously, that’s a lot of detail about a place I’ve only seen in travel ads. How do you know all that?”

Amelia examined the shadows again. “I pay attention. I remember things.” She turned and waved me to start walking with her again. “Aruba is out.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “So we need info on geography and weather. “What about Jamaica? That place is beautiful. I saw a Travel Channel thing about it.”

“Do you have two point eight million bullets?”

“What?”

“That’s how many people lived in Jamaica before the collapse. There won’t be that many now, but if your plan is really to shoot every monster in your island paradise, you should probably pick one with a smaller population.”

“Two point eight million? How do you know that?”

“We’ve been through this.”

“Okay,” I conceded. “Jamaica is out.”

“See,” said Amelia, “it’s not hard. We can rule out most of the islands before you sail down there. If we go through the information we find at the library, we can probably come up with five or ten great candidates for you.”

“How long do you think it’ll take us?” I was thinking of my backpack. I only had enough food for four more days.

“We can rule out most of them pretty quickly. There are probably only a few hundred that are even big enough to consider. Probably less than that. The rest are too small or too risky.”

“What other kinds of risks are you thinking about?”

“Low elevation.

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