42 Days Ago (Quint's Version)

by ComicArtist13

Summary:

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We all know what happened during the first 42 days of the apocalypse in JACK'S perspective, but what about Quint? What does HE think about all of this?

Luckily we've found an old journal of his that he's stacked under some boxes for some reason to find out!! (Hopefully Quint doesn't mind....right?)

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Quint Baker angst fic because I feel like torturing myself or whatever

This is mainly just my interpretation of what happened during the first 42 days of the apocalypse from Quint's perspective bc he's my fav (shocker)

this is gonna be formatted into a journal thingy btw so yeah have fun reading this :D

Notes:

All the things I write in his pov are gonna be close to headcanon as possible but there will be parts where I have my own headcanons in sooo yeah, happy reading!!

Chapter 1: First Day

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18.06.2015

It has been approximately 21 hours since the monster apocalypse outbreak in Wakefield, Massachusetts USA. I (Quint Baker) have made it to my home safely. I have escaped with minor injuries, but was encountered with a multitude of other complications.

Firstly, when I had arrived at my home, I was immediately met with the undead circling my front yard. It was quite a hassle to get around the familiar faces of my neighbors; once welcoming, now seeking out for fresh brains from the living. It's quite a disturbing image.

Once I had entered my home, I had an unfortunate run in with another familiar face. You see, my parents had hired a babysitter for me for the time that they were overseas, and it seems like she was one of the first to get zombified when the outbreak happened.

Whilst I didn't have much of an emotional attachment to her, the gut in my abdomen didn't have the best feeling seeing her jaw almost hanging off her face.

With a bit of maneuvering (and sheer luck), I was able to trap her in my bedroom closet, which has now been barricaded with heavy cardboard boxes. It was not an easy feat, but I congratulate myself for being able to do such a thing with minimal injuries.

Currently, every half an hour, I pull and shut the curtain just to inspect the area around my neighborhood. It's been quite repetitive so far; zombies, monsters, alarms, screaming — not something I regularly look forward to.

The emergency alarm system (or EAS) had stopped airing shortly after half an hour, and I was currently listening to the news station on an old radio, just to keep up with what was going on.

From what I have gathered so far, they were going to be sending out emergency vehicles to find any remaining survivors in the city. I should be hopeful about that information, but with the state of everything that I've witnessed so far, I shouldn't have such high standards.

What I should be awaiting, however, is a sign from Jack Sullivan, my best (and only) friend. We had promised each other to stay in touch through our walkie-talkies when the outbreak had first started.

Yes. Walkie-talkies. I had bought a pair of them a while back to communicate with Jack outside of school, since my parents were of the firm belief that mobile phones were going to rot my brain from the inside out.

Quite silly, I know.

But I suppose it would be a much better source of communication in these perilous times. Only a short hour or so after I've come back to my home, the electricity was wiped out throughout the entire town. No lights, no fans, nothing.

I can't say I've had a huge attachment to electronic devices, but it does suck knowing that my console doesn't serve much purpose anymore.

Anyways, I should be expecting a call from Jack as soon as he's found proper shelter. I have faith in him, I just hope that he will be able to survive as best as he could on his own.

Much like myself. I need to learn how to survive and prepare for any future endeavours that are about to be thrown my way. It's quite good that I am well equipped with the skill of machinery, it could serve a good bit of purpose.

I've had plenty dismiss my intellect and machinery before, especially in school. I wonder where those people are now during this time? Knowing some of them…I have many doubts they would survive such an event.

Not saying that I would wish such ill will on a person; not in my nature to do so.

Right now, all I'm hearing are zombies groaning, monsters roaring and destroying, people screaming, cars blaring, airplanes flying throughout the state.

I think it's starting to occur to me how serious this matter really is.

The world really…ended.

This isn't just some weird lucid dream I'm conjuring up for the sake of writing into this journal. Nope. It's really happening.

And oddly, I don't exactly know how to feel.

Scared? Positively. Worried? Absolutely. Feeling like I'm about to choke and roll all over the floor like a madman? Likely.

But a definite feeling? I don't have an answer. And that…that worries me. More than I can physically describe.

I always liked having answers to things. I enjoyed facing problems and finding answers to problems, and even creating solutions – that's what I do. That's my speciality.

But this…this is a problem that I never thought, not in this lifetime or the next, that I would ever face…and at such a prime age, it really boggles me.

How am I supposed to survive the end of the world when I'm not even old enough to stay home without supervision for a few hours??

The drastic change of this event is kind of…what's the word? Ridiculous? Yes, that would cut it.

I have so much to organise, and a lot of responsibilities fall on my hands now. I just have to adapt, because whether I like it or not; I have to survive.

And, just to be clear, I DO NOT like this. Not one bit.

But I have to move on, it's what a survivor would do, like…think of Scooby Doo? Yeah, this is kind of like Scooby Doo, with all the monsters and junk if you believe it enough.

I could be just like Fred!

Or Velma. Jack has always said if I would be anyone in Scooby Doo, I would be Velma, and he would be Fred.

If I'm going to be very honest, Jack is way more of a Shaggy, or a Scooby, depending.

Now this just has me thinking about the old DVD tapes of Scooby Doo. I have many doubts that they survived the aftermath of the apocalypse, but if they somehow did, I guess I can keep them as collectibles for the near future to watch over.

Movie marathon? Yes. By myself? Not that fun. I would have to wait for Jack (who is still hopefully alive by my predictions).

The sun seems to be setting now. I can only see so much whilst trying to hide from gigantic, beastly monsters who are destroying everything in their path. A few of them have peeked eyes in my direction, but I was fortunate enough to not be found…yet.

They seem to be coming in all sorts of variants, and it intrigues me quite a bit. I hope I get to at least make some studies on them whilst they're here.

But for now, I should get myself some sleep…or at least, as much sleep as I can with the apocalypse happening outside.

Take care. Will write again soon.

-Quint Baker
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Chapter 2: New World = New Discoveries!!

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19.06.2015

Bad news, I was not able to get the proper amount of sleep that I needed. Who knew that it would be difficult to sleep peacefully when you have your former zombie babysitter groaning and slamming herself against the closet.

I'm not sure what to really do with her. I obviously can't set her free, she's going to go straight for me; whether in instinct or personal vendetta. I shouldn't risk it.

I've always wondered if zombies would eat anything else other than brians brains…but I'm sure they would find Brian's delectable too. I know a few Brian's.

Anyway, I've taken it upon myself to perform the experiment of documenting the newly inhabitant zombies, specifically their movements and their cravings. If I can document that, it can be a step forward to finding out the cause of the apocalypse outbreak. It will not be an easy task, but I, Quint Baker, will not and never give up in the face of challenge.

Also, it can hopefully provide a bit of distraction for me as I wait for Jack's call. Still nothing, unfortunately.

But I retain hope!

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[3:09 p.m] (at least that's the time I can deduct from my watch)

From my observations and analyses, I can deduct a few things;

First, the zombies seem to have mixed feelings with animal poultry. I've tried throwing a few leftover baloney sandwiches at them (with my lackluster aim); some of them have happily taken it – not to eat, but for other strange purposes, which is good I suppose?? Other zombies take one look at it, sniff it, and then turn their noses and grunt like if I just served them mildew.

I've even tried throwing one of my egg salad sandwiches to see if they would take it, but sadly, no bites. One of them even sniffed it and gagged!

Guess even my taste in food is worse than a zombies’.

Second, they seem to react and follow towards any sort of sudden sound. I've tested this phenomenon by (reluctantly) sacrificing an old elephant squeaky toy from my dusty toyboy. Once it had squeaked onto the grass, the zombies immediately crowded around it, some inspecting it, others trying to eat it as if it was human flesh.

Sorry Mr. Elephant, but it was necessary for science. Rest in stuffings.

Another thing I've gathered is that their reaction time is quite slow. I guess it wouldn't be too much of a surprise; their brains are decaying along with the rest of their bodies, it would be natural for some (or all) receptors to have delayed.

It is quite a bit funny to chuck things at them through the window, just to watch them stumble and look around to see who did it, then immediately go back to idling.

That's another thing I need to note down; memory is nonexistent for the most part. They could lose any sort of limb and will still continue on like it's an average Tuesday.

Speaking of limbs, from what I have witnessed, their limbs are detachable at any point in time, and with a bit of rigor, they can attach it back…somehow. It's not a pleasant sight; it's almost like a barbie doll, if it was made for the purpose of scaring children half to death.

Despite the rotting through their bodies and faces, I can somehow recognize some of my neighbours – some I favoured, some I disliked, some that I vaguely remember, like Mrs. Kathorn and her dozen cats. You could even see it on her poor face that she's calling for her favourite felines.

On the topic of animals, my speculation is that a good couple of species have gone extinct due to the drastic change of climate in the last month. Others? A possible chance of mutation, to the point where they look barely recognizable to their prior features.

Might be an incredible stretch of the imagination, but I suppose that happens whenever you're an early inventor.

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[7:48 p.m]

Still no call from Jack. Is it weird to say that I'm starting to get anxious? It's only ben been about 48 hours since we've separated. Is it possible that something had happened to him on the way back that's disrupting our connection? Could he have possibly…

No. I shouldn't jump to such exaggerated conclusions. Jack is fine. He is fine, and he will call me…soon hopefully.

I've tried sending a couple messages to see if maybe he's just stuffed his walkie under a chair or something and just forgot to call back, but all I've been met with is static, and it's not making my concerns any less lighter.

This is fine. This is no problem! Quint Baker has never backed down from a challenge at hand! There's always a solution – that's what I've learnt from my experiences.

Just that sometimes those solutions take a bit of time to come to fruition, but that's completely okay!

And it's a good thing that I have a solution to waiting for a bigger solution, which is finding small tasks to give solutions to!

Solutions all around!!

But for now, I suppose I should get myself ready for sleep. It's been quite a long day of research, and spectating zombie neighbors can get a bit mundane after a while.

It is a good thing I still have my bed; still making the effort to clean it and make it every day too, just to have a resemblance of something normal..

I should definitely sign out now, and will write again soon.

-Quint Baker
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Chapter 3: A Special Project!

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23.06.2015

Oops, I've sort of forgotten that this book was in my bedroom, apologies!

I've just been dealing with so much research and events, I don't remember to squeeze in the time for leisure, but I suppose you can't get that much of it anyway in our ‘new world’.

First to start, I've finally gathered the courage to step outside my bedroom door and go out to see the condition of the rest of my home (mainly because I have to use an ACTUAL bathroom, I cannot stand peeing in a bottle again). 

It was as much as I expected – dusty, broken, destroyed – all the fondness and memories of my earlier days have now taken new place under apocalyptic ruin, like they were just foundation flooring.

The main priority of my venture was to the kitchen (and then the bathroom) to see if any of the food in there was still good to consume. From how many days have passed, there were only very few items to be relinquished; most of the poultry had gone rotten, as well as some fruits and vegetables – figured as much. 

The only things I was really able to grab were some non-perishable items and a couple items from the cupboards; they weren't that bad in terms of expiration (at least from when I inspected them).

I should definitely clean out that fridge soon however. Rotting poultry and vegetables are well known breeding grounds for invertebrates, and with what's happening within the world right now, who knows what else can develop in that fridge.

I'd rather not take the risk of a rotten fridge monster.

After my endeavours, I've finally returned back to my sanctuary, with food!! I was honestly getting tired of eating leftover chocolate goober goo from my backpack, I needed an actual meal!

Oh, by the way, still no call from Jack.. this is definitely a blaring sign to worry and panic, but I will not! I will retain hope! I know Jack, and he doesn't give up that easily, no matter the challenge!

Well…maybe except for sports. I remember once he tried to get into football to try and have some form of athleticism in him (and also because it was in the same field next to the girls playing field hockey). 

It went about as well as a person with no engineering experience trying to fix a car – quite disastrous. I tried to give him some form of reassurance afterwards to keep going, but I think we both knew that it wasn't going to last very long in hindsight.

It's not like I have much athleticism either; possibly worse than Jack's in fact. Sports was never really an area that I would succeed in. Way too rowdy and straining and loud for my liking. My ears would not approve.

Speaking of ears, I think a partial reason that I haven't been getting good enough sleep is for the fact that I have seemed to misplace my earbuds, which is very irritating. Without them, I'm not going to be able to focus as properly as I would like to, especially at night.

And it really doesn't help when you still have that babysitter in your closet groaning and banging against the closet doors.

I've actually tried to converse with her this morning, to see if there's actually still a fraction of her former self left. I've tried making sounds, pronouncing vowels and basic sentences, I've even tried to speak other languages to her to see if she was in any way fluent…but no luck; as per usual.

It's beginning to get a bit frustrating with how much I seem to be circling around and around, and not reaching any sort of destination, or even a checkpoint! I've always been able to navigate and find some sort of continuity in the world I knew.

But that was the problem – this was a whole new world. With tremendous amounts of monster species, tons of zombies, and who knows what else is out there in the world, undiscovered.

It just feels like the more I find out something, the time where I think I actually have a lead or a discovery, I just slam into a dead end – and running into multiple dead ends is not fun; physically or metaphorically.

Usually I would have an outlet to talk to about something like this; that outlet being Jack Sullivan over the walkie talkie, but – surprise surprise – still no answer. No call. No “hello”. Nothing.

Fiddlesticks. I feel like I'm going down a crazy hole here, and I don't know how to get out. But…Quint Baker does not cower in the face of challenge! No sir! I just need to do something to pass the time again. It's what I've been doing for the past few days anyway.

I should probably get to making new gadgets as well. With all this free time at the end of the world, I can't possibly let these days go to waste, especially if I'm just sulking half the time, that won't do!

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[9:04 p.m]

I've just spent the next half of the day working on something REALLY big! I cannot possibly contain my excitement as I am almost finished with the remaining features!

Of what, you may ask?

You know that old ranger truck that my parents had stuffed into the garage some time ago? Well, it was still there, in moderate condition (or at least as moderate in the time that it was used)! And seeing that I just had a working vehicle cooped up in the garage picking up monster dust…

I decided to make it…special.

More upgraded, more dynamic, more powerful – and some might even say – more cooler!

I decided to make it – Project: Big Mama!

Made after…well, my big mama.

(Really starting to hope that my mother will never see this anytime soon – love you ma!)

It's got all types of upgrades; the type of upgrades you would see in Mario Kart or Monster Machines!

It's got all the works, like;

Bottle rocket launchers

Butter slick slingers

An arrow turret

Fuzzy mice (for science)

Fuzzy dice (for looking neat!)

Tire guards

And a good bunch of other things! Things that I did myself! All by myself!

It really does feel like I'm going somewhere after all! I'm not entirely crazy!

However, I really do wish there was someone to show this accomplishment to. I even painfully looked around to see if I could suddenly imagine my family appearing out of thin air and congratulating me for all my hard work.

But yet, nothing.

It felt lackluster. Completing such a big challenge just for no one to be around to be able to see it.

Is it worth it then? Was it ever worth it, knowing that my parents will most likely never be here to see all the big accomplishments I would make in the future?

And really, I can't even say that it's much different from what used to be in my former world; always out, coming in every couple months to check up, and then it repeats.

. . .

This is quite a heavy subject, apologies. I should be getting ready for bed. I need to wake up bright and early to be able to finish up Big Mama! Take care.

-Quint Baker

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Chapter 4: DON'T LOOK AT THIS!!! (TEAR THIS OUT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!!!)

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28.06.2015

I feel like something is taking a toll on me, and it makes me feel soo.. what's the word? Stupid? Possibly. That's how I think I feel.

I'm not sure if how I feel is even right.

I just finished with one of my small inventions, something I've been tinkering with for hours. Tested it out and it works pretty good! But, usually the routine that I would have was that when I finished something, I would go out and call my little sister to show her what I made.

She always loved my inventions.

I don't know why I expected an answer. It's like I forgot what was happening for a good minute.

It doesn't help that I keep getting distracted by the framed pictures near me. The ones with my parents and such – I vaguely remember half of those memories if I have to be very honest – but staring at the smiling boy in those photos makes me feel so……

Man, I don't even have words. All these years of English essays and yet I don't have a single word to describe this feeling. 

I don't understand. Being faced with unknown things wasn't out of my regimen, so then why is this so difficult? Why are internal conflicts so much more difficult to conquer than the velocity of a propelled boomerang?

It's not fair. It's frustrating.

But it's no matter, I turned over most of the frames, even put some away for safekeeping. I felt like I was going to get into territory that I didn't need to be in if I kept staring at them.

The packing somehow turned into a clean up around my room, which I'm not upset at. It desperately needed some cleaning, at least to look presentable to the eye.

I remember I used to dread cleaning weekends, but spending that hour and a half cleaning up my bedroom area was oddly relaxing for once, dare I say it made me feel a lot better.

With that, I made an…odd decision. I ventured outside of my room – not to grab supplies or food or any utilities I might possibly need – but I went to my parents room. It was probably not the most well thought out decision I had in mind, I would admit.

Their room being empty wasn't so much of a shocker to me, they're not home much after all, but the thought of them never being in this room again, it sets an odd feeling in my stomach that I don't think I wish to explore.

I rummaged through some of the junk that was laying around. I found a bunch of old things that hit my memory like an aeroplane; some old childhood drawings that looked like chicken scratch at best, small little trinkets I made for previous birthdays, my father's old cap, my mother's pocket watch. 

It all felt so lived in, and I miss it. I miss it so terribly.

And knowing that it was never going to happen makes me want to…..

I should probably move on to other things.

This little ol’ book is probably tired of me venting about trivial things like this. I'm supposed to be Quint Baker – young inventor and scientist, the person who never gives up in the face of a challenge.

I can't live up to such a title if I'm whining like this.

But, I did take my father's cap and my mother's watch before I left their room. If there's anything that's going to be salvaged from this place, it's going to be those things.

They used to wear those things a lot – or, at least when they used to be home often.

I walked out and went to my sisters’ room next. It was just on instinct. No thinking.

It was nothing short of my expectations (and my expectations are quite low as of right now). There was dust everywhere, along with a bunch of her old things like a playhouse, some dolls, legos, a drawing board, and a bunch of other toys. All right next to her bed, neatly made as I expected.

I got a hold of some of the cards that our parents used to send us whenever they went out on business trips. It was almost like a routine for us to expect them in the mail during their extended away period.

They are strangely nostalgic.

I remember trying to get used to the fact that they could only be physically home for Christmases, birthdays, occasional check ups and such; and even then, they stayed for a day or two at best before heading out again.

It was so normal for me. So normal that I was sometimes confuddled on why one's parents were there so much during school events.

‘Don't they have jobs?’ I used to think.

They did. Just not jobs like my parents. Not jobs that required them to be out for multiple months at a time.

I didn't know how to feel about that, and to this day, I still don't know how to feel.

But as of my current situation, the only thing I can state is; I wish I had given them a proper goodbye.

I wish I had predicted this tragically life altering event, to give one last hug to my mother. To get one last pat on the back from my father. To get one last enthusiastic spin from my little sister.

I wish I could've appreciated my babysitter more, at least before she became one with the undead. At least she's still here, just moaning and groaning against the closet doors, looking for brains.

Y’know, I bet she had a family too. Parents. Siblings. A pet. A lot of people did before turning into zombies. Now they just wander through the streets, unable to comprehend what just happened to them.

Would I ever enjoy that life? That of a zombie? I expect it to be quite miserable.

But it's not like they asked to be zombies, they were just unfortunate enough to get bit.

The greater question I should be asking is where did the first zombies come from? I've been studying that inter-dimensional that had appeared in the sky when the monster apocalypse first came into pursuit.

Where would that portal lead to?

I have a bunch of different predictions; one being that there is an entire monster dimension with a monster society on the other side, where they probably have different rules and regulations, and most of them are definitely carnivorous from what I have observed.

Some of the winged creatures have started killing and eating their own species of winged folk, which is surprisingly not far off from our own animal kingdom.

I think I'm going to note it's name down as a ‘Winged Wretch’ — mainly because of its vocal chords, which almost sounds like they're saying ‘wretch’ in a twisted sort of way.

Hey, look. I actually did something instead of sulking today. Go me!

But I should definitely put this down for now, it is getting quite later – later than I would like to admit – and I will most definitely need some sleep to be able to work tomorrow.

As for my earlier notes? Hopefully I tear those pages out before I forget about them.

Signing off. Goodnight.

-Quint Baker

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Chapter 5: Jack?? Where Are You???

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05.07.2015

I have discovered something quite…interesting today.

Throughout my monster research and findings, I have inspected one monster in particular. It seems to possess a trait of…intelligence, perhaps? More intelligent than the other monsters I've inspected.

It seems to be capable of memory, and furthermore scent tracking. It has been wandering around town, avidly looking for something – or possibly someone – for the past few days. 

Definitely not some dumb monster you can get yourself around, which arguably makes it a lot more dangerous.

Hopefully, it hasn't laid its eyes on Jack – whom I'm still waiting for a call from. A signal. Anything.

The worry in my stomach has become so acidic, that I feel like puking when I think of anything drastic happening to Jack. It's such a worrisome way to think, but with this new world – the possibilities are unfortunately there.

Please, let me just be worried for nothing.

Jack Sullivan is my best (and only) friend. We've only been friends for about a year, yet I feel like I have such a strong bond with him; something that I truly couldn't put into words if I attempted.

Sometimes, I feel like I treat him as more than a friend – not that I mind such a thought.

Do I?

He does treat me as such sometimes, but it's not weird or anything of the sort. We're just comfortable with each other. That's all it is.

We get awry glances from time to time, but we were always outcasts in school, so it's not like it changed much for our status.

I had him, he had me; and we were both happy with that.

But he's not here, and he's not answering – and that makes my stomach turn.

He's going to be okay.

He's going to be okay.

He's Jack Sullivan. The guy's been through the wringer a bunch of times, like that time where he once attempted to stand up to the biggest bully in school (at the time) → Dirk Savage.

Dirk Savage is…certainly a character.

Everyone used to fear him at school, even the other bullies, simply because there were countless rumours bouncing around about him, some varying from concerning to downright ridiculous.

But it's not like he's ever set up a good face for himself. He constantly picked on and tormented others, and guess who just so happened to be one of them?

(If you want the answer: it's me)

He used to target me daily, to the point where I felt like no matter where I went, he was just there. Always ready to get his big grubby hands on my lunch.

He always took my lunch.

I vividly remember the day of the apocalypse; he came up to me, stole my egg salad sandwich, described it as having the smell of ‘squirrel butt’, and then proceeded to eat said sandwich in front of me.

I really can't tell if Dirk was playing an overexaggerated character, or was just THAT backwards – they all looked one in the same to me.

After that, I remember Jack went and did quite the unthinkable – he stood up to Dirk.

I can't fathom why he even tried. Dirk was well known to be able to beat people to a pulp with his strong bulky figure (if I have to be honest), and it would most definitely be easier to do such a thing with the builds that me and Jack possess.

Which, if you need an image; just think of the complete opposite of Dirk, and probably ten fold.

Jack knew that as well, which is why I thought it was nonsensical to even think of trying to stand up to Dirk.

I tried to stop him, I really did!

And then, before Jack was about to get his face pummelled in, is when the apocalypse first started.

Hey, at least one good thing came out from the apocalypse (for Jack) I suppose.

I can't say I remember the entire thing, but I do remember catching a glance of Dirk Savage running away from the scene, possibly running back to his house.

I don't know why, but I feel a bit of concern for him. What if he's also alive?

It's a ridiculous thought. Having concern for someone who's done nothing but torment you. If it isn't just the silliest thing in the world.

I would rather face a hundred zombies and attempt to climb on top of a wretch’s wing, than to ever have common ground with Dirk Savage.

Yeah. I said that.

As the girls on TV would say – ‘if you got a problem, talk to the hand!’

Or something of that sort. Can't exactly remember, it's been a while since I've seen sitcoms.

Still, I do hold myself curious on where Dirk's whereabouts may be.

Maybe he's in the forest, hunting like a lion. Got war paint on his face and grunting around like a caveman would. Would possibly be even MORE big and bulky, and a lot more facial hair.

Okay, maybe that's a bit exaggerated.

But I will not be surprised if he looks more rugged than he usually does.

If I ever do come across him someday…I don't know what I would do, but I'll probably get revenge for something.

Maybe I'll steal his sandwich!

But that would also make me a sandwich stealer, and a person who steals from a sandwich stealer is no better than said sandwich stealer.

(Wow I said sandwich stealer four times!)

But maybe, I should consider other options. I can't hold onto these grudges forever, especially since the world has turned over into monster land; holding petty grudges over bad school memories is just going to hold me down.

Not saying that I would be buddy buddy with him, though. Unlikely to happen.

This is getting me thinking of whoever else might be alive. I may be making unnecessary expectations for myself, but I find it a bit fun to speculate sometimes!

Now, there's Jack and Dirk.

Jack → waiting for response to confirm that he is indeed alive.

Dirk → entirely speculation. Good chance he could already be undead.

Yikes. Now that I truly think about it. Zombie Dirk would be pretty scary. Might even be scarier than alive human Dirk.

Hope that never comes to fruition.

Now on who else could be alive? I have one more speculation in mind.

June Del Toro.

It may be an incredibly long shot, but I did notice her going into the school to hide when the apocalypse first started. She was definitely protected.

The chances of her surviving alone in that school however? Highly unlikely. Limited access to food and water, and no proper coverage for shelter.

Who's June Del Toro, you may ask (or hoping you did)?

 

Well, she's a girl, for one. But she was also Jack's crush.

Seriously, I think I know more about her than I should with how much Jack speaks about her on a daily basis.

From what I know, she's (or was) the editor for the school newspaper in the journalism club. Jack had met her there, and he's described a bunch of wonderful things about her so far.

But…I also think she's quite intimidating. 

Whenever she was working, she had that really serious glare in her eyes that challenged anyone to even dare to bother her whilst working.

It's something I admire, but also something I'm scared of.

She makes me nervous, more to say.

Every time we worked in groups together, I remember trying to be way cooler than I actually was. Cause…well, she's a girl, and I prefer to not look lame in front of girls.

Pretty sure girls don't like lame (including June Del Toro).

Is it weird to act completely differently in front of girls as opposed to boys? I mean…in my case, I'm outcasted by both groups, so it really doesn't change a lot for me.

Plus, I was taught to always be polite to girls!

And be polite to everyone. Yes, everyone.

It was way easier for me to be polite and keep to myself, than to speak out and possibly get myself into trouble when I shouldn't.

I'm not particularly built for that life.

But now, in terms of the apocalypse; there's an unlikely chance that she would survive for so long in that school by herself, due to limited rations and sources for self care.

Still, in some way, I hope she's okay.

Now back to Jack.

He is most likely (and hopefully) by his house…or his foster home that is.

Jack had confessed to me a good while ago that he was originally an orphan and that he was a part of the foster system. He said that this was his…tenth home that he's been placed into now??

 I feel terribly bad for him. How bad were his other homes that he's had to be brought in and out constantly, I wonder.

He's also most likely had to transfer to multiple different schools as well, almost yearly it looks like.

I can't imagine myself being taken and put into lousy homes constantly. It feels like an endless nightmare scenario.

And even then, his current foster family isn't the best either. I've gone over to their home once or twice, and it was the fastest amount of time that I've ever disliked a family.

His father looks like a lazy deadbeat, his mother looked like she couldn't care less, and then his foster brother was exceptionally irritating – whether it be natural or on purpose.

Jack didn't deserve such a terrible home life, and I wish I had known him sooner to help bring him into a more comfortable one.

But then I guess that would make us foster brothers, and from there it would be quite awkward.

Plus, as I've probably described earlier, my life isn't very ideal either.

Yessh yeesh, I've written a lot today! I should definitely get some sleep…more discoveries tomorrow!

Take care.

-Quint Baker

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Chapter 6: Self Reflection?

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12.07.2015

It has been almost a month since the apocalypse started.

It is also a month before my birthday! (if that's ever going to matter in this new world)

I've been discovering more monster species and trying to connect the events as to why the monster apocalypse even started.

So far? No dice. Just dead ends.

It was getting a bit aggravating of how much I've had to rewind and substitute on this corkboard.

There has to have been some sort of clue or event that happened beforehand that led to the monster apocalypse, I'm sure of it! They didn't come here just cause they were bored and needed to explore a new world.

Maybe someone had found some sort of information and did something to make the interdimensional portals appear out of the sky. 

Yes, I said portals.

From what I've gathered from the radio station, there seems to be multiple reports of portals happening all over the world; from China, to Europe, to Malaysia and more! It was like a whole cluster of portals, sending monsters down to our planet.

Which definitely means escaping to another country is not an option. Scratch that off the list.

But, this also means that there is a chance for more survivors out all over the world…if they have survived that long, that is.

To be honest, I've been greatly questioning how I've lasted this long myself. All I've been doing is staying in my room, doing research from time to time and playing solitaire.

If this is the reality of what surviving the ‘end of the world’ is like, then it's way more lackluster than I anticipated.

It really gets me thinking, and thinking sometimes leads to deep analysis about one's inner self – or what some might say, self reflection.

I suppose it is one of the reasons why I started writing in this little book here.

I've been thinking about a lot of things.

Firstly, Jack's call. It has almost been a month, and still no signal from him.

It makes me incredibly worried. 

I keep trying to tell myself; ‘It's going to be okay. He's going to be fine. He's Jack Sullivan!’ – but lately, when I have been trying to sleep, I've been experiencing images.. Jack getting surrounded by zombies flash through my mind, and it makes me wake up in a cold sweat.

This is probably not the best start to my self reflection.

Speaking about dreams, I have been having dreams about people, more than I would like to admit, including Jack. Most of them seem to be memories and re-encounters of past events, and the same people keep re-appearing in every single one.

I am most definitely overreacting (and I hope that I am) but there's just a tiny ‘what if’ going throughout my head, trying to make my question myself.

But I will keep sticking with what I am positively, definitely sure I already know; Jack is my best friend, Dirk is a bully, and June is…well…June – and it will stay that way.

But I still have a sudden urge to question what they would truly think about me. Would any of them be thinking of me right now?

I really wouldn't have gotten to think about this subject if I wasn't cooped up in my room for about 20 days; that's really something to think about if you ever got the chance. 

(Now that I read this over – please do not get cooped up in a room for 20 days out of free will. I promise there are much more sane ways to question yourself.)

I've never really delved into this sort of thing before either. I was way too focused on my academics beforehand to even think about romantic attraction. 

Plus, with the way I was already viewed in school, there was an unlikely chance I would ever be even ten feet near the dating pool.

And if I had to be really honest, I didn't have much care for love. I view it as more of a ‘happy distraction’ if anything else. It was something that was purely dependent on emotions and feelings and if you ‘like-like’ someone.

I was never an emotional person; I know that from young. I didn't think – especially in these current times – that love would ever be in my regimen.

But I guess the apocalypse makes you think a lot. And thinking is really my speciality if you think about it.

(There's a lot of thinking happening here)

I don't even know why I'm thinking about them so much anyway, and it slightly irritates me. 

Jack is my best friend, I can understand that one. But (again), Dirk is my bully (that means we don't like each other!!!) and I barely know anything about June other than what Jack has already told me about her (which are nice things).

Is this one of those ‘sign’ situation thingies that the astrology mumbo jumbo articles talk about?

I remember overhearing one once; 

‘If you're dreaming about a person, then they MUST be thinking about you a lot!’

I very much doubt Beyoncé is thinking about a lone 12 year old boy for at least a minute of her day.

Either way, I find them quite silly and counterproductive. Letting an astrological sign determine your character and such.

But I suppose the study of it is quite interesting if I have to admit.

Fortune tellers on the other hand are out of the question. I can't imagine sitting there and just blindly determining someone's future just from reading a crystal ball and trying not to laugh at my own words.

My great-aunt had gone to one of those at the fair once; had carried me with her when I was under her care for a short period of time. She was eating up all the nonsense that the fortune teller was selling to her, almost in tears at some of the revelations.

I tried so badly to tell her that they were outlandish and untrue, but I guess at the time information from a ten year old with big glasses and a Looney Tunes sweater holding a large swirl of cotton candy was viewed as unreliable.

Cruel world.

I really do wonder where she is now. I hope she got that elbow replacement surgery before this whole apocalypse started.

I wonder if any of my relatives are alive, up on the survivor bus and whispering lonesome wishes to one another. They used to do that a lot when I was younger.

I used to not be able to comprehend them to its fullest – partially because the sayings weren't in English – but now with everything going on, those wishes would be really nice right about now.

A miracle of some sort would be good right now.

Oh man, I went off track again. Apologies.

My brain has been such a scrambled mess these days, and I don't have anyone to confide in right now, so anything that I have in my mind is going into this book as far as I'm concerned.

It's quite sad, but it's either that or I start talking to sock puppets like a mad man.

Would that really be the worst thing to happen considering the current state of the world?

Anyways, that's about everything that I can muster for today. Signing out.

-Quint Baker

Also big reminder: rip out the pages from the few previous entries!!! I don't want anyone seeing those!

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Chapter 7: A Month Later...

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18.07.2015

It is officially a month ever since the apocalypse has occurred in Wakefield.

I, Quint Baker, am still conscious and mentally stable (thankfully).

Hygiene? Worse than I would like to admit. With no running water through my house, I have not been able to clean myself properly, and it is quite embarrassing to say that I've gotten used to the smell already.

Injuries? Minor, fortunately. There were a few instances where I tried to venture out of my room to see if I could salvage any supplies from the ground floor. I was attacked twice by some hidden mutated bug creatures, and almost lost my shoe!

Now I have to note that mutated bugs are also shoe snatchers. Great.

Other than that, I have been getting information on more monster findings from outside my window, and have even started sketching them on sheet paper so that I can keep illustrations in my logbook.

Yes, I actually do art, in my free time at least.

I've been practicing ever since I was around eight I would say. I had actually started making small mini comics with Jack when we had available free time. They're all unfinished as of currently.

Hopefully we can get around to finishing them, once we find each other.

Once he responds.

He'll respond.

I'm sure.

I sometimes wish I was placed in a fictional world, like Sargent Tigerpants…or maybe Doc Baker..

I mean look at em. Looking all smug and stuff being on paper whilst I have to deal with the real world, worrying about monsters and zombies outside my door whilst they have to get cool adventures.

So unfair.

Speaking of monsters, I now have a full bulletin board full of them! All filled with illustrations and notes.

And I'm certain that I'm running out of pins…and string.

If you were to see it right now, it would look like I'm solving a detective case.

Which, I technically am.

Trying to find out what caused the worldwide apocalypse is probably the biggest case ever conceived, no Forensic Files case could ever top it!

And, if I get enough information (and stay alive long enough), my data could be recorded into history books, museums, and school textbooks!

And I could probably get interviews about my findings. I can almost see the headline: ‘Local Boy From Wakefield Finds OTHERWORDLY Discovery! More at 5!’

To live in such a scenario would surely be a good update for my portfolio.

But that means I also have to work extra hard if I even want the chance to get recognized.

That's how every big scientist got through after all; Einstein, Bill Nye, all the other guys!

Plus, as I've said before – Quint Baker has and will never back down from a challenge!

That seems to work still, yeah?

But anyway, further updates:

STILL no sign of Jack – I've even peered outside my window with those wonky binoculars like a spy to see if there was even a glimpse of him…nothing.

Saying that I feel worried would be an understatement! I would be chewing down my cuticles if they weren't extremely dirty right now.

I'm continuously sending small messages over the walkie, but yet, no bites.

I really can't tell if I'm going crazy, trying to hold on to at least a string of hope that my best friend is still out there…alive…and NOT a zombie.

Hearing the soft groans of my undead babysitter (who is still a fighter to this day) felt like mockery. Like it was taunting me with the fact that Jack could be out there in that exact state; groaning about with no sense of purpose.

And the worst part is; I have the greatest weight on my shoulders about that predicament.

Every day I replay that day…that moment that I said that we should split up and go to our own houses. I wish I never said that. I should've gone with him so that we would both be okay.

At least to where I don't have this constant awful feeling in the gut of my stomach.

Splitting up was a huge mistake.

I mean, that's about one of the most vital things you DON'T do in a horror movie, much less a monster apocalypse!

And now I'm paying for it. Through worry and fear.

I just hope am begging that he's okay.

Because if not, then that means that not only did I not get to say goodbye to my parents, nor my sister…

I didn't get to say goodbye to my best friend.

My only friend.

I cannot even begin to fathom how lucky I am to have Jack as a friend.

If we hadn't awkwardly bumped benches back during the earlier year, I can't imagine our friendship blooming in any other way.

And it might be weird to say this, but I love him.

I really do.

Is that weird to say? I really can't tell.

I can't seem to pinpoint things these days and it's really aggravating me. I am known for pinpointing, you may even call me the pinpointer (if such a word were to ever exist)!

I need to start figuring things out ASAP if I want to even get close to finding Jack (or any sort of human life).

That means I can't waste time writing in this book.

Sorry to cut this short, but I have no time to spare!

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[8:56pm]

My hands are incredibly dirty.

I've been checking on Big Mama regularly just to see if there was possibly any faulty wires, or if the dice were unaligned.

After that, I was brave enough (again) to venture out of my room, not to go down, but to go up – to the roof!

Now you are probably thinking that was the dumbest thing that someone could ever do since flea infested Christmas sweaters, but I promise that I do have a valid reason!

You see, my parents had installed a roof slingshot – yep, a roof slingshot – a while back, don't know if that was their best idea. I don't even know what it's actual purpose even was.

Well, it certainly does have a purpose now!

I took my time to brandish it and polish it and made it look like it was the rarest of items you could get on an eBay listing!

The slingshot could prove well for offense, especially with the height above the ground, it could definitely land tremendous damage to monsters that are within the perimeter.

Whilst I was up there, I was able to get more notes on some more monsters around the area; some large, some small, some short, some tall, some knew how to open cans, some bashed their heads on them – it was definitely a diverse set today, and I took a good bit of notes on all of them!

I have definitely made some progress today, which means some sort of success, and success is good!

But now I am exhausted and my feet feel like burnt rubber.

So I'll have to settle in for the night (despite my wants).

I'll be sure to learn even more tomorrow, and even quicker.

Because quick is what I do.

It's who I am.

Anyway, my day has ended here, and so will this entry!

Take care.

-Quint Baker

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