I’m sitting in the kitchen writing this. The rest of the household is fast asleep, including Adam for a change. What I saw last night turned my blood cold and I’m still not over it.
The SF boys took me out on patrol with them. Just a simple routine jaunt, out to check up on our friendly neighbours that have taken a shine to hanging out in the nearby barn. Having these guys nearby has taught us a lot about them. For one, they’re pretty docile in the day time. They seem to go into some kind of trance state and just stand there with their heads down. You can get pretty close before they wake up. They don’t like the light and will pretty much stay in the barn if it is a bright day outside, even if you make a lot of noise. In this way we’ve managed to set up some infra red lights around and even inside the barn. It can’t be seen with the naked eye but with night-vision the place is lit up like broad daylight at night time. We took up position in a camouflaged hut the army guys have built nearby and started watching them with high-powered night-vision scopes on the sniper rifles. It was pretty cool really, but cold and boring. That was, until they woke up and started milling about. There are 5 of them there. One guy we call Boss Hog. He’s a large guy, still got some kind of overalls on, though you can hardly tell due to the mud and who knows what covering him from head to toe. He seems to be the ringleader. There are a couple of rangy looking teenagers. They’re called The Twins on account of them looking similar and they’re always going everywhere together. Boss Hog sent them out hunting with a flick of his hand and they came back a couple of hours later with what looked like a badger and a cat which they all settled down to munch on. Finally the other two came into view. The first one was a bit of a shock. She must be in her mid 20s and is very pregnant. The army boys call her The Mummy. I suspect the pregnancy is post-disease, which kind of freaks me out thinking that these Slovs are getting down and funky with one another. The fifth and final one, the one they’re calling Miss Cornwall because they say she’s a bit of a looker, well compared to any others they’ve seen, finally came out into the open. There’s no way they know we’re here, nor can they see us in the pitch darkness, but I swear she stared straight at me, down the barrel of the night-vision scope.
It was my wife.