Little Voices

[Melisande (DELETED 4273)]

Little Voices
3 May 2013

I knew I should have picked the city and the apartment complex, but Alicia had been so excited. Ali only had good things to say about the city and the building and the landlord. I trusted her to find us a decent place to call home. From every photo and video shot at Veil Towers, Ali had succeeded. If only Tate or I had said something. Sitting here, staring out at the gray clouds, I can’t help but feel responsible for whatever has happened to them. I’m scared for them, for their families, and for myself. I’m not a superhero. I’m not a police officer or a soldier. What if I can’t find them? What if it’s too late? What if I’m not strong enough to save them?

I still have the text message saved on my phone. I can’t delete the message, not if it ends up being the last thing--I can’t think that way. I’ll find them both. They could be lost somewhere or confused or scared. I still have to look up hospitals and other sorts of inns. There are so many places that I haven’t checked. I should be rationalizing and pinpointing different areas of the city that they would have visited, but something’s pulling me toward the fence.

I’ve heard a lot of **** about quarantine and zombies and government agents, not to mention the weird men offering me some super blood for ten grand. The first time I visited Harper Rock, I had never heard any of this; I had never suspected such a normal place had such dark recesses. I should leave the investigating to the cops, as trigger-happy as they are, but I wouldn’t trust them with a dead dog, let alone with the lives of my friends.

First, I’ll check the map and pinpoint different buildings that would strike my friends’ fancies. Second, I’ll put up some posters or fliers. Third, I’ll try to find a safe place to spend the night. I don’t want to add the fourth. I’m not having a psychotic episode or spiraling into paranoia, but I have to see what’s behind that fence, zombies or not. I know Ali and Tate. They might have had the same nagging feeling and the need for answers.

If the cops in this city are willing to shoot children, what chance do I have? What chance did my friends have? Stay positive, Mel. It hasn’t been that long. There has to be someone in this city that can help. I just can’t help wishing I were stronger or faster or smarter. I’m so sorry, guys. I promise I won’t give up on you.

[Melisande (DELETED 4273)]

Cinco
5 May 2013

Right about now, I should be sitting on a hot-pink lawnchair with a bottle of beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. That’s how we’d celebrate Cinco de Mayo, or so I’d like to think. It’s not a big deal for us, but I like any excuse to relax. I’ll take any holiday and make it into a huge attraction. The best part about it is that my friends are right there with me, more than willing to make a big deal of even the smallest of days. I’m using any excuse to talk about them now. I’ll admit it to myself and this beat-up notebook.

It’s been seventy-two hours and I haven’t made anymore progress. My phone’s filled with text messages and voicemails from my family and their families. I can’t stand to stop and return their calls. I can’t hear the disappointment and fear in their voices. They didn’t want me to come here, not after they found out about the disappearances. I lied and told my family that I had an emergency at work. I regret doing that to them, but Alicia and Tate aren’t just my friends. They’re my sisters. They’re my family. I never had siblings until I met them. Chalk it up to guilt.

I’ll give this little adventure until the ninth. If I haven’t had any breakthroughs, I’ll return all the calls and hitch the next ride out of this place. It’s easier said than done.

[Melisande (DELETED 4273)]

Rituals
7 May 2013

I can’t explain what I just saw. I can’t put it into words. I just can’t. It’s so much worse than I thought. I mean--it’s like I stumbled into a Hitchcock movie. These people have weird altars and there was so much blood. I’m scared. Oh God, I’m scared. I can't stay here. I can't do this. This place is like hell on earth.

---

I don't know if he saw me or not, but I'm feeling calmer. I'm back in my hiding spot and I'm pretty sure no one bothers to check this floor of the building anyway. I was in the quarantine zone, known as the QZ. It was the first time I'd ventured into one of the buildings there. I'd already finished looking through the graveyard, where I found what looked to be mourners. I couldn't go up to them and ask them if they'd seen my friends, not in the graveyard.

I shouldn't have gone into that building. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. I felt driven. When I went inside, I saw a couple of those infected people, but they moved slow enough that I ran right past them. I thought I could hide in the corner, but I ended up stumbling upon a guy hunched over a weird table. I can't tell you if it's some kind of religion or some sort of cult, but I have a feeling he isn't the only one to use that altar.

My feet were practically glued to the floor. No matter how much I wanted to turn away, I couldn't drag myself toward the door. My eyes stayed glued to that altar, even when the body parts appeared. He just seemed so calm. He seemed experienced. It was only when I hit a loose floorboard that I had the strength to flee. I think he saw me. I hope he didn't see me.

Oh my God, I stumbled across the serial killer.