It’s been two days since I wrote in here. Feels like a lifetime. Things are changing fast, and not in a good way.

Yesterday, Matt and Dad went out to look for more supplies. We’re running low on food. The cans we found won’t last long, especially with all of us here. They were gone for hours. I started to worry they weren’t coming back. Mum kept pacing, checking the window every few minutes. She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was scared.

When they finally did come back, Matt was carrying a backpack, and Dad… Dad looked different. I don’t know how to explain it. There was something in his eyes, like he’d seen something out there that shook him. He barely spoke the rest of the night, just kept fiddling with the torch and staring into the fire. I tried asking him what happened, but he just shook his head and said it wasn’t safe to go too far from the farmhouse anymore.

Matt was no better. He’s usually the one with the stupid jokes, trying to lighten the mood, but he was quiet too. They brought back some tins and a few bottles of water, but that was it. No answers, no explanations. Just more silence.

Later that night, I overheard Mum and Dad talking. I wasn’t meant to hear it, but they’re not as quiet as they think. Dad said something about “seeing bodies.” Plural. I don’t know where or how many, but the way he said it, like he was trying not to scare Mum, it scared me.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

What happened out there? Why won’t he talk about it?

The noises are getting closer too. That rumbling I wrote about—it’s not distant anymore. It feels like it’s creeping up on us. I swear I heard something strange last night, like a low hum, almost mechanical. Matt said it’s just the wind, but I don’t believe him. I saw the way he looked at me when I mentioned it. He’s heard it too.

Hannah’s still acting weird. She used to talk non-stop, especially to me. Now she’s always sitting by the window, staring out at nothing. When I asked if she was okay, she just said, “It’s not over yet,” and walked off. What’s that even supposed to mean?

There’s tension here now, in the group. Jade had a go at Linda this morning for eating too much. It got heated fast—Dad had to step in and pull them apart. I could see it in everyone’s faces: we’re starting to turn on each other. I mean, it’s not like we all even trust each other properly in the first place, but now… it feels like it’s getting worse.

We need answers, but no one has any. The radio’s still dead, no signal on our phones, nothing. It’s like the world has gone dark, and we’re just waiting to see if the lights will come back on… or if we’re stuck like this forever.

Part of me wants to go out, to try and see what’s really happening. But I’m scared. What if I don’t make it back? What if there’s nothing to find but more bodies?

For now, I guess we stay put. Dad says it’s safer here than anywhere else. I hope he’s right.

-Nick