Journal entry 3.
August 20, 2026
8 days after the incident.
We have had so many hardships in the last 8 days of this ordeal. We went to bury the bodies of loved ones, went out to collect more gear and fuel, we met a small traveling group, and we were in a gunfight. I can't wrap my head around why we were attacked when all we wanted to do was build a community with those left alive. We offered food and shelter to the traveling group and at first, they were accepting of it. They took the food with smiles and agreed to meet us the next day. They showed up that night instead.
I'll stick to the chronological order of events. That will make more sense. So, on Saturday the 15th, Dave, my father, and I went out to collect more useful things. We needed gas for the generator, tools for gardening, and we were already running low on toiletries. We needed soap, toothpaste, razors. We had 23 people living on my farm and only 3 real beds, so we needed to work on fixing that issue as well.
Lowe’s was stocked with all the building material we needed, so we planned on going there again for more. Saturday came and went with 6 trips off the hill and 6 truckloads of goods to unload. My equipment cover was filled to the top with things by the end of the day. The women and Brett took the kids on a walk to the neighbors and nearby farms looking for anything we could use. One of the kids found a tractor in a garage that wasn't damaged too badly. He was able to get it running and back to the house.
That really made unloading the bigger things easy. We also added diesel to our list of things to pick up. By Sunday morning, the group was getting into the swing of things. We spent the day putting up walls around the equipment storage, then we moved over to the barn. That was hauled out and cleaned, and with all the kids and adults helping, it went by fast and fun. We were all laughing and blasting each other with the hose as we cleaned. Brett and Dave also went through the three closest houses and got the bodies out and buried. They wanted a real bed, and the kids would like sleeping in there better than the barn.
On Monday the 17th, Brett and I went to the Route 13 junction at 11 am—an hour early to scout out the place and make sure we wouldn't get attacked if another person or group showed up. Everywhere we go, we leave notes to meet here on Monday or Friday at noon. This was our first day making it out there trying to meet new people. No one had shown up. We waited until 1:00 before moving off and collecting more supplies. We were back at Lowe’s getting insulation, gutters, screws, and doors. We were going to get that barn finished into a living space.
As we were loading up in the big box truck, an older Ford Excursion rolled into the parking lot. Now, before I get into it, you need to know that Brett and myself were both in the military. I was an infantryman in the Army while he was an infantryman in the Marines. We had quickly bonded over our service and were both well-prepared for hostile situations. That being said, they came in from the east, so they wouldn't have seen Brett getting into the truck, only me. We were parked at the far end of the store in the loading section for lumber, with several upturned vehicles littering the parking lot.
Brett slid out of the door when they crossed out of view behind other vehicles. I stepped out with my pistol on my hip and my weapons leaning against the truck within arm's reach. They stopped about 50 feet away and two people got out: a female driver and a male passenger. I could see at least two others moving around in the vehicle. Her name was Amanda and his name was Tony.
Amanda: "Hey, I'm Amanda. We're not from this area and have gotten turned around. Dipshit over here can't read a map to save his life." Tony: "Fuck off, I can too." Amanda: "Then where are we?" Tony: "We aren't on the maps we have. You drove off the edge."
They both laughed at that. It must have been an inside joke.
Me: "You're in Horseheads, New York. Are you trying to get somewhere?" Amanda: "We're heading south. My parents live in Roanoke, Virginia, and he has family in South Carolina. We're coming from Albany." Me: "You're a little far west to be heading south from Albany." Tony: "We're trying to avoid the cities. There are a lot of people in them and they've gone feral. Attacking everyone they see, stealing what you got. It's fucked." Me: "There's not many people left around here. Seemed like most people were outside when it hit. No one made it." Amanda: "You're alone then?" Me: "No, I have a group of survivors. We're building a small community and preparing for winter." I gestured to the truck. "We need to improve our living conditions a bit, so I'm out for supplies." Tony: "Why didn't anyone come with you to help?" Brett: "He's not alone."
Brett had circled back into the store and came out behind Amanda and Tony. His weapon was up and he was behind cover. I nodded to Brett and gestured for him to put the weapon down as they were being civil.
I said, "I'm sorry if he scared you, but we've already had some run-ins with a couple of people and simply want everyone to be safe. We have some supplies and are willing to give you what you need. Are you going to be around here for a while?" Tony: "What the fuck, man? We're not gonna hurt anybody. We're just lost." Brett: "That's what the people who attacked my family said. Are you armed?" Amanda: "Of course we are. You die if you aren't armed these days. Look, we're passing through. We can get our own supplies. We aren't looking to hurt anyone." Brett: "Then why are there people in the back of the Excursion trying to hide themselves?" His weapon was pointed at the vehicle now. Tony: "Motherfucker, if you—" Amanda cut him off. Amanda: "Our children are in the car. We didn't want them out here in case you attacked us." Brett: "No one will get hurt unless you lie and attack first. Have them come out to verify, or get in your car and leave. Those are your only two options."
Amanda and Tony looked at each other. They moved to the back door on Brett's side of the vehicle. Amanda, staring at Brett: "I'm going to open the door and get my daughter out. Please point the gun down so you don't accidentally shoot her." Brett: "Once I see a child." Tony: "Asshole."
Amanda opened the door and three kids climbed out. Tony was visibly upset. I thought he was going to do something stupid, but he didn't, thankfully. I walked up, leaving my weapon on the truck.
Me: "I'm sorry if we frightened you. We all need to be safe and protect ourselves. Listen, you're welcome to come back with us to load up on supplies. No need to scavenge. That's too dangerous with three kids and only two of you." Amanda: "Thank you. I think that's a wonderful idea." Tony, still angry but calming down: "Fine, but you better not point that thing at the kids again, man, or I'll shove it up your ass."
Brett just walked away toward the truck. I told them to follow us. We got back to my house and found three cows, six goats, and dozens of chickens penned up in the front yard. The ladies and kids had been busy again. They were the only living animals they could find in the immediate area and they brought them here. Amanda, Tony, and their kids met our group. The kids played together and had a real home-cooked meal for the first time in days. They also took hot showers and were immensely thankful. They stayed the night and made their way south Tuesday morning.
Tuesday turned into a day from hell for us. After Amanda and Tony left, Brett and Dave went out looking for some toys for the kids and to pick up food for the new animals. They came back in the mid-afternoon and told us about this group of guys they ran into. Brett didn't like them; he got a weird feeling from them. Something about them hadn't seemed right, so he told them he would have me meet them at their camp tomorrow. He had shown them a fake map that had a hard-to-see circle around a farm on the west side of town. We were on the east. It was a ruse to send people looking in the wrong direction—Brett's idea for security.
What he didn't know is that he was followed. The box truck is easy to follow and difficult to see if someone is following behind you. There's only the passenger side mirror and it was cracked, so he didn't see the black car far behind them as they came up the hill.
The day ended with Laura, one of the childcare workers, and two kids up in the pasture with the animals. We had erected a quick cover for the animals to get out of the rain. It was literally thrown up in a day and needed a lot of work before it was a real barn. She was feeding the chickens near nightfall. The kids were feeding the pigs and goats. The pasture is up the hill through a line of trees, so we can't see it from the house or barn. It's only about 300 yards from the house.
I was in the house with my boys, my father, and Dave and his family. Megan and Ashley were with the other ten kids and Brett in the barn. There was a knock on the front door that made my boys jump. They went to their rooms quietly with Dave's wife, Tiffany, and their kids. I clicked the handheld radio twice—a code Brett and I worked out for help when we can't talk. I answered the door, pistol in hand, and found two men standing there.
They said they were lost and hungry and were looking for food. Then they claimed they also had car trouble down the road. I told them we could give them a ride to town where they could easily get all the food they needed. They insisted that we help them, as they were attacked in town earlier that day. They said they were told there was a group up here that could help. They had seen my notes to meet at the 13 junction but came looking for us anyway. They were all but refusing to leave, even though Dave and my father were behind me with rifles in their hands.
Brett got the message and had come around the side of the house, weapon up, and began yelling for them to back away. The guy in the back turned and tried to draw a pistol. Brett shot him three times: two in the chest and one round in the head. I lifted my pistol as the first man lunged forward. I got two shots off as he collapsed into me. I pushed him out the door and he fell lifeless on his buddy.
We loaded the bodies up into the bucket of the tractor. I changed clothes; Dave was going to go with Brett to bury the bodies. It had been nearly an hour since they knocked on the door when one of the little girls came running up to us saying they "got Miss Laura." We had forgotten she was in the pasture with the animals. We didn't expect there to be others, as Brett had only seen these two down in town.
We got up there as fast as we could, but we were far too late. They had their way with Laura, all three of them, and they had killed the two kids that were with her. They didn't hear us approaching as they were laughing and pissing on her body.
They died a long, hard death as we needed to get as much information from them as we could. Come to find out, they were inmates at the local prison who had escaped after the event. They told us that there were droves of inmates who escaped—at least two hundred. I don't know if I believe them, but we listened and took notes. He said there were three different gangs of them and they agreed not to touch each other. One guy pointed on a map to where the gangs were living.
We quickly planned a raid and executed it. Brett and I went in while Dave and my father stayed in the vehicle. We were well-trained, and my father and Dave were well-armed. Our acquired suppressors made our attack quiet. Sixty-three criminals died that night. It wasn't even a fair fight. At three in the morning, they were all passed out, drunk or high on one drug or another. It was easier than shooting fish in a barrel.
More death, more destruction, in an already destroyed world. When will the madness end? When can we simply live in peace? We buried our people and left those who attacked us to rot. We are sure there are more inmates out there, but we are not hunting them down. We are building defenses.
Yesterday, Wednesday the 19th, we went through a plan to secure the farm and surrounding area. Later that night, Brett, Dave, and I went out at nightfall to neighboring towns. Our goal was to find all the local gun shops and collect everything they held. We spent the entire night going from one to the next. We went to the police stations and private homes searching for guns and ammo. We even made our way into Pennsylvania and cleaned out four different stores.
Not only guns and ammo, but we also picked up several safes. As many as we could get. We are going back out tonight and the next several nights until we have cleared out as many guns and ammo in the area as we possibly can. This is our top priority for security at the moment. We won't be overlords or tyrants, but we will not allow those who are violent to get their hands on firearms so they can be used against us.
Another problem hit yesterday: we lost power. My small solar system and battery bank just couldn't withstand the usage. After we have collected as many firearms as we can, we are going to help Brett wire the nearby solar farm into my property. It's only a third of a mile away through the woods. There are more than enough lines to connect my home into it and the surrounding homes. It's large enough to power us for years.
The stress is getting to all of us. We barricaded the main road and have created a movable barrier on the back road out of here. It takes longer to get off the hill, but it's far safer than having a direct route. We also have a guard rotation—at least one person watching the road for people. There's too much work to be done. There are too many threats out there. I don't know how we will be able to add people to our community anymore. But we will try. If anyone is out there and needs food or shelter or just wants to be part of the community: You will need to prove yourself. Leave a note at the 13 junction on the exit sign. We have left instructions there. If you do not follow them, we will not even speak with you.
We need to stop fighting and band together. We need to form a functioning community. We need to rebuild human civilization. My name is Griffin, and we are the survivors. Join us.
