27.05.202X - 28.05.202X - Soaked beret

11:00 27/05/202X 15°C

Heavy rain.
Fixed up the Humvee, welded some armor and a bull-bar onto it.
Also changed the tires.
Not exactly what my classmates would expect me to be doing on my trip to America, but here we are.

Harris went out with a propane torch and a welder mask earlier today. Looks like he's sticking true to what he said about learning to work steel.
Mishka's watching the walls. She looks exhausted after yesterday's workouts.
I'd almost feel sorry for her, but I'd expect a professional soldier to not have to stop for breathers every half-hour, especially not when we're just one misstep away from having a horde on our backs.

Still, looking back at what I wrote earlier, I might have been too harsh on them.
The operation was a success, we got in without a hitch and we made it out in one piece, with some very valuable intel and some loot to boot.
I think I found myself a new baby.
Named it "Kokorowatari", like the sword in that one anime. As it stands, I definitely feel ready to cleanse every single aberration off the face of this earth, given enough time and ammo.

Harris managed to crash his car earlier, so badly he needed stitches.
Good thing he had the hemostate ready. I sewed him up as best I could and told him to give it some time. Light work only, avoid unnecessary exertion.

Christ, when did I become the group mom?


I washed in the rain today. Almost feels liberating, in a way. Dunno if Mishka was looking, don't really care.
Just had to wait until Harris was out the gate. Don't want to give him the wrong idea.
Rufus is out foraging, I think. Our freezers are practically overflowing already and I have to keep throwing stuff into the compost, yet he insists.
Ah well, none of my business. He largely eats on his own, anyway. Prefers raw food and the like.

Come to think of it, none of us really share meals.
We used to, maybe a month ago. I'd cook something hearty, and we'd all take a break from our day's work to eat something together.
I don't know what changed.

Everything feels more... furtive now. Can't think of any better ways to describe it.
Gulping down a baked potato and some dried fish while you're in enemy territory, snacking on dried fruit while you're at base, so on.

No proper, homely "let's sit down and have a nice hot meal together" moments.
Either we're too busy, or we're on a mission, or we just don't feel like it.

I've been living with these people for a while now, bar Mishka, and yet they sometimes feel like total strangers.
I'd say losing Izzy was the catalyst, but we never ate together even then.
Maybe just the catalyst for me finally realizing this.
Are we even human anymore? Are we alive?
We go through the motions of surviving, day in, day out, but everyone seems... tired.

Or maybe it's just me. I haven't felt normal in a while.
Not like "normal" would be much better, but...

I don't want to think about it. Going to head out into the rain again. Might be time to do the rounds on the generators. Maybe a gas run after that.

-S

 

 

Visited Izzy's grave. I go there most days, for a minute or two.

Don't know if I'm trying to pay my respects somehow, or if I'm trying to assuage my guilt over what happened.

Maybe if I would have ran south instead of heading north at first she would have made it.

Maybe if I'd taken a shortcut through the building that was between us.

Maybe if we would have just stayed home and let the fog dissipate before going anywhere.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Life's full of maybe's.

Maybe I could have just stayed home. Maybe I shouldn't have gone overseas to meet an abusive idiot.

Maybe I should have just taken my mask off and died with her, choking and gurgling.


Maybe.




The beret, soaked

Underneath the flower patch

I wrote you something 

03:30 28/05/202X 12.5°C

Still raining. More rain tomorrow.
Saw Mishka working out earlier, decided to join in. Didn't talk much. At least it kept my mind off some things.

She needed a viper hood, told her to go ahead and grab one.

Apparently she wants to cook now. Not really hungry, but told her to go ahead.

Sitting by the Humvee writing this, listening to the radio hissing static, raindrops drumming against the steel chassis.

I wish I could stay here forever, just sitting in the rain. No thoughts, no bullshit, no people dying, just me, my rifle and my car.

A moment of rest, if you will.

-Sayori

19:00 28/05/202X 15°C

Me and Mishka did some road maintenance today. Cut up a couple wrecks, put down a couple rotters, the like.
Looks like last night's workout really took a toll on her, shots kept going wide or hitting limbs more often than they actually did damage.
We didn't talk that much, just the usual "covering-reloading" jargon that you fall into in these kinds of situations.

Been listening to this song "Ronald the Headless Thompson Gunner" on repeat all day. Mishka didn't seem to appreciate it, but opinions are like assholes. Besides, the song feels somehow... relatable, for lack of a better term.

We've had a couple jets in the vicinity earlier, and a helo circling the Muldraugh area the entire day. Been wondering what they want.

Anyway, we got home maybe a few hours ago. Mishka had to walk since the Humvee I hotwired for spare parts died on her.

Managed to offload the scrap while she was still on the road.

We're running out of storage space. That and propane are my main concerns.

I know there's a propane truck lodged in the wreckage up north somewhere, but it'll take a team effort and lots of blowtorches to actually get that thing moving again. No way it's fitting through that clusterfuck as it stands.

Still, getting back home was pretty cozy. We iced a bunch of rotters, brought back a ton of scrap, and got some recon done. Good day, all in all. The rain made it extra comfy, although Mishka seems to disagree.

Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

Made us some hot drinks from boiled rainwater and sewed up my clothes, also cooked a bit for Mishka. I don't really eat that much anymore.

After Mishka got all giddy at the prospect of hot cocoa I had to relent and melt in a few pieces of my emergency chocolate stash into her mug.
Might have deserved it, too, considering she looked like a soaked cat when she walked in through the gate.

I had coffee, instead. Night guard shift, again. With just us four here the rotation gets a bit shitty, to say the least.

Scratch that, three. Rufus is off checking the traps again.
I talked to Mishka a bit, as casually as I could. Seems like there were some family issues, but I'm not really one to pry, and I'm really not in the mood to be someone's emotional support right now. Maybe some other day. 

I don't really feel like talking to anyone at the moment, but I don't want her to think I hate her or anything, and on top of that we live under the same roof now.

You see, she stole took Izzy's bed.

 

-Sayori Takahashi