20200804

Day 2,157

There used to be eight of us on the island before the storm came. Me and my parents on one small farm, Einar, Ingrid and their children on the other with a few dozen miles of grazing grounds between us. Now there's me and nine corpses pretending to be all the others..

The storm brought a stranger on a boat made of driftwood tied together with seaweed and whale skin for a sail. Ingrid insisted on taking him into their home, saying they were better equipped for another mouth to feed - they always managed to have a room spare somehow.

We let them take him in, going over to check up on them every now and then, not really noticing the changes to their demeanor or the way their skin sat against their meat or all the flies suddenly about their home until little Arne's arm got caught on a gate and the skin tore clean away.

He was whisked inside their farm and we were told everything wa fine, we were just letting the sun get to our heads and imagining it all as the stranger stood by their front door and laughed to himself. I thought I must have imagined those flies coming through his lips but now I know it was real.

Whatever he did to Einar and Ingrid he also did to my parent when I went to the mainland for some supplies. By the time I got back I noticed the same off-meat smell that hung around the other farm only now it was coming from my parents and their smiles no longer met their glazed eyes.

I still try not to think about the piles of meat stacked up in one of the stables.

I've shored up in the lighthouse and moved all the furniture I can to barricade the front door. I won't need to for much longer though, not since they turned their attentions to the postal boat and the mainland itself. As soon as they're gone I'll be able to reach a phone and warn everyone.

I just hope there's still time.

No comments:

Post a Comment