From the diary of Jonas Trent, September 14, 2030:

2009-07-20T15:12:00.000-07:00

      While some would find the act distasteful, I find that scrounging through abandoned supermarkets is actually a pleasant, enriching experience full of nostalgia of better times. This, for me, was especially true at the beginning of my new life in this wasteland. I remember being a child, looking up into the towering rows of food and soda, and dreaming of being able to take it all home with me.

      I find that most markets' unhealthy food has been stripped from the shelving, along with the canned meats and fish. But once in a long time I find unspoiled food on the shelving. And as for spoiled foods; hunger makes my taste buds equate them to gumdrops and lollipops.

      But it seems that my days of scrounging for food are done with, now that I found a modern-day dream: a supermarket left untouched by looters. The floors are pristine, as are the walls and as is the food. I suspect this market was in a more wealthy area of town - the ruins of mansion-sized housing near the store tell me that. These houses stand like castles compared to the massive homeless tent cities I once was a part of.

      Perhaps these people were taken by ex-president Jameson. I've seen evidence of his troop movements in several towns in the area. It would explain why this place was undisturbed; perhaps he used this place as a makeshift bunker for his operations. But that wouldn't explain why the food hasn't been touched. I suppose this is a mystery I'll never be able to figure out.

      But regardless of the why, a man could live for decades off of the shelving - if he could keep the generators that run the freezers working. And there's enough fuel here to sustain those for quite some time. I, and my new-found friends will be fine here for quite some time.

      They came to my door yesterday. A scientist named Alexander Harman and a gentleman whose name I haven't learned yet. An ex-gentleman, really. He seems to have been infected with some disease. Human Emotion Infection, Alex called it. It's a bacteria feeds off specific parts of the brain, and causes drastic personality change in the host.

      Alex is still studying the disease with the science equipment he's stolen, and he wants to bring in more subjects for testing. What he's testing, I have no idea. Perhaps he'll open up more about that as time goes on. For now, both he and his friend are welcome guests. Both Alex and his friend - during the times when the bacteria isn't assailing him - have already been quite useful. They're creating holding pens for the new subjects as we speak.

      Normally I would consider the prospect of imprisoning innocent human beings as barbaric, but Alex says his research requires they be quarantined from us. Apparently the disease doesn't spread until its original host dies, and there's no telling when the disease can cause a subject to keel over. So, for the sake of science and safety, I convert my home into a lab.

      Actually, I find the prospect quite exciting. I never imagined that I would be involved in such groundbreaking research.

First Letter from Alexander Harman to Jonas Trent

2009-07-13T13:09:00.000-07:00

July 24, 2035

To Jonas Trent, my dear friend,

Participants six and seven have both recorded feelings that they miss you. While their thoughts may not be as elegant as mine, laid out in the sand pits of their containment centers, I must admit to also having a vague feeling of sadness in your absence. But our work continues, and the other thirteen participants have not changed whatsoever. Participant one put me in the unfortunate position of having to choose his life or mine, when he attempted to strangle me to death through the bars of his cage. No harm was done to me, aside from a temporary bout with being short of breath, as I always keep a syringe at-hand just in case of such circumstances.

However, if you could pick up another replacement for participant one on the road to your visit, I would be most grateful.

Jonas, I must be honest with you. I've had strange dreams for the past week. I don't quite remember any of them clearly, but I do recall feeling frightened, and awaking covered in sweat. This may be signs that my symptoms are progressing. My time with these participants seems have infected me with their disease. Perhaps I would be a suitable replacement for the first participant. When you arrive, we will discuss how to properly deal with my apparent contraction.

Is this really what we've turned into: a society virally enslaved to hormones which summons sexual deviance and drug addiction? We have never even attempted to treat the symptoms, much less cure the disease. Every desire we want is given to us, every want we desire is made out to be a need. Our value system is off-balance. No one worries about the future anymore, because there is no future - that's what the television keeps telling us. Our next generation will be a depraved one; the final collapse in humanity. A pitiful remembrance of great philosophers, scientists and artists is all that will be left. We've accepted everything that this glass screen tells us without questioning why, and the punishment for this strange loyalty - which any nation in the history of Earth could only hope to have in the way of patriotism - is death. Death of civility. Death of society. And finally: Death of the human race.

But we will begin again. We always do. It's the one trait of humanity that we all know is true: resilience. Humanity can come back from anything - or so the television says - and with the nuclear war that's coming, that television had better be right.

I am not just writing this letter for you, Jonas. It is my hope that our descendants will find this page, and the pages of my journal, and educate themselves on the mistakes we've made. They'll have a lot to learn from.

We are a doomed generation, but I believe we must die so that our species can continue to exist.

Godspeed in our descent and in your arrival,

Alexander Harman

Ex-CEO, Innervision Industries

Ex-President of the United States of America

Possible Contractor of HED-4

Eschatos

From the diary of Jonas Trent, September 14, 2030:

First Letter from Alexander Harman to Jonas Trent