5/23

Day 1

Do I have to explain things to a notebook? I don't think so. I'm writing this to convince myself that this is real, this is actually happening, but that it'll be okay. I'm hoping.

We knew something was up after the third day of rain. Everything around Kampala was just too green. Pollen started to spread. People were getting sick. I mean, illness is pretty common around here. A large portion of the population around here has AIDS, so we really didn't think a whole lot of at first.

Arnold had picked up a paper from the bazaar and had Naba read it to us. This is happening world over. New York, London, Hong Kong, even Orlando. There are some dry, safe areas around. The nearest one to us is in South Africa. Connor, bless him, called a meeting earlier tonight to call for a course of action before one of us missionaries caught the virus. We have a couple of vans. Granted, they're in average condition and rusty, but we have enough space for us and the few villagers who haven't fallen ill.

Infected people are worn down, tired, miserable. It doesn't look like a pleasant way to die. There's no cure yet. It's like the victims are shutting down cell by cell.

We're leaving in the morning. Connor, Arnold, Naba, Mafala, Poptarts, Church and I will be in one van leading the way. Michaels, Zelder, Schrader, Neeley, Kalimba, and Gotswana will follow, carrying most of the supplies. We're hoping there'll be a flight to America from South Africa. There are some safe spaces in the States. All I've done since lights out is write while I stare at my packed bag and worry.

Nothing tonight. I wonder if he even slept.

5/24

Day 2

We hit the road today. Connor woke us up at the crack of dawn and shooed us into our respective vans. I could tell he hadn't slept well, if at all. I didn't hear him in the middle of the night, and I didn't need to get up and console him. (Which I selfishly was disappointed by, but at least he didn't suffer for a night.)

Arnold crawled into the back space with Naba, and Mafala insisted on joining them. The happy couple didn't seem to mind, and all three of them were asleep before we were a mile out.

Poptarts and Church, who can read maps, decided to take the first driving shifts. Church waited until the other van was ready before taking off. Kampala looks like a rain forest, and the countryside was the same. We passed more medical camps than usual, all of them full and visibly chaotic.

Connor fell asleep after half an hour of fighting against it. I wrapped a spare blanket around him and told him I'd wake him when something came up. He thanked me and dozed off, lolling against the battered headrest. It didn't seem very restful. I waited until he was really out before tugging him over the lean on my (much more stable) shoulder. He stirred slightly, then nuzzled pretty damn endearingly into my neck and continued sleeping.

I caught Poptart's gaze in the mirror. He smiled, but also gave me something of a warning glance. When I started visiting Connor after his nightmares, Poptarts had pulled me aside for a chat. Initially I was worried he was jealous or suspicious, but he assured that he meant no ill will. He and Churcher had both tried to talk to him when their mission started and were both politely dismissed. Poptarts agreed to give me late-night room visiting rights as long as I made Connor happy. They're very close. (I'm glad Arnold and I have gotten like that, too.)

Poptarts told me to be gentle with him. He's a rather fragile person. Poptarts warned that after all Connor's been through, which seems to be a lot of hell and self-hatred, his heart would be easy to steal and easy to break. At the time, I saw any romantic involvement between the two of us preposterous. Over time, the line became rather blurred. (No kisses or confessions. More along the lines of unprotested touches and lingering glances.)

The roads are long and muddy. We looked for places to stay, but ended up just pulling into the bushes when it got too dark to see through the rain. We put up a tarp and started a fire for dinner. We all sat together and laughed and talked. There was still the weight of the situation, and I don't think any of us could really ignore it, but by the time we all went to bed, a weight had been lifted.

We decided on van sleeping arrangements as well. Naba and Arnold share the passenger seat (which means Mafala has to sleep at the wheel.) Church and Poptarts sleep in the back seats, leaving the Connor and I curled up together in the space behind.

The rain pounding the window is making me anxious, and my arm is falling asleep. I should turn in before I wake Connor.

He only woke up slightly startled, thank Heavenly Father. I asked if he wanted to talk, but he didn't want to wake the others. I pulled him close to me and pretended not to notice the wetness on my chest.

5/26

Day 4

Letting Arnold drive yesterday was a mistake. He was extremely jumpy, and Church and Mafala both nearly popped veins trying to keep him on the right roads. He was a little shaken up afterwards. Naba only smiled and reminded him how sweet he is and how talented he is at storytelling. Arnold just adores her, and it's a great comfort to me that she returns his affection.

Church or I should really be the ones driving. I've always been a good driver, and Church essentially has our route memorized. (Connor doesn't have his license and refuses to break rules.) Poptarts is alright, but he gets distracted easily. Naba simply doesn't know how, and Mafala doesn't want to because of the weather. Poptarts almost took a turn yesterday that would've brought us to the Atlantic.

Kalimba is worried about all the medical camps, and their ratio to empty villages. Mafala and Connor are putting on calmness, but their nerves aren't hard to see. Mafala keeps looking at Naba with some premonition of dread, and Connor's dreams have taken a turn.

Insomnia was confirmed as a symptom. New information should be comforting, because we're learning about it, but it just makes me feel scared and paranoid. I'm not used to that.

Neeley drank rainwater before it was boiled. Gotswana made him vomit. Neeley was confused and agitated before Gotswana explained what he'd almost done. Neeley blanched, and didn't really speak for the rest of the day.

I had to shake him awake before he made too much noise. He didn't want to look at me and didn't let me touch him. I knew better than to press it. He'll probably tell me in time.