Note: This is a story written in the form of a journal, so if you are just joining me and want THIS blog to make any sense at all, go back to my blog entitled "The Journal of 'Red' Chote - entry 1" and start from the beginning.

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Journal entry: 28th November 2010 - 6.15am  

I don't know where to begin this entry, journal. I went into town yesterday. I loaded up the 4x4 ute and took the shotgun and a spare jerry of petrol. I drove out to the highway, turned left, and headed towards the town of Winidjango. It was deserted along the highway. Unusual, to say the least. Normally, there are semi trailers going hell for leather delivering food, cattle, or other things between the town and the city. But if that was odd, what was waiting in Wini was odder still. Nothing.  

That's right, nothing. Not a fucking, goddamned thing. No people, no cars (moving ones anyway, plenty just parked or abandoned in the middle of the main street), not even a fucking mangy dog begging for scraps. Nothing. The whole fucking town is deserted. I've missed something. Some emergency situation that's required the whole town be evacuated.  

I didnt stay long. Just spent enough time to load up the back of the ute with food, petrol, batteries, a new radio and other bric-a-brac to get me through the next few weeks. Then I high-tailed it back here to try the radio. Again, nothing. My eyes wandered over to Georgie's letter, still sitting, unopened, on my dresser. I should open it. But my heart sinks at the very thought. Instead I made a plate of baked beans and cooked a damper, had another few beers. I don't know what to do.