With Spring Comes the Fall
Page 21
This morning all of them and their kids sat out in front of the building we use to house our bulk grains and other food. They all sat against the front, not letting anyone in. One of the sentries on patrol around the compound saw this and asked them what it was about. They told him that they all wanted to leave, to strike out on their own, but wanted to load up a vehicle with all the food they could carry. Apparently they were acting like this was a totally reasonable statement, which most of the people here disagree with. We have no problem with them wanting to leave, but they aren't going to take more than their fair share with them. No way are the rest of us going to be weakened because they feel entitled to whatever they want.
So now all of them are locked up. The kids are being watched by my sister and a few others, but at the moment the adults have no means of communication. I am just one of many voices, and I am very glad that deciding what to do with them isn't on my shoulders. Rich and Treesong are weighing options, being two of the more levelheaded people, and Rich being our "Judge" for lack of a better term. I am betting on exile with what they can carry, and the kids getting the choice of going with them or staying. I'm guessing that way because I have already heard them talking about it. Courtney has already promised me that she will be explaining the situation to the little ones as soon as we know exactly what that situation is.
I hate to think that any parents would walk away from a place that is safe for their kids. My hope is that the children choose to stay, but I don't think that kids that young will be able to grasp the reality of the situation well enough to make an informed decision.
Posted by Josh Guess at 10:33 AM
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
The Missing Day
It's not very often that I miss a day on here. In the midst of the stress all of us deal with every day, from worries about food to the ever-present worries of a zombie attack, this blog is my release valve. Yesterday was a really tough day for all of us, both physically and emotionally. We decided on exile, and as predicted the children of our troublemakers decided to go with the parents. But we have learned our lesson from our first exile, however, and this time we bound the adults to the seats of the vehicles we took them out in.
We dropped them off about fifty miles away. It took all day to get there and back, and we left them with enough food and water to last them a few weeks, more if they stretch it. We gave them some tools and a few weapons, along with some other things they will need to survive. I hope they live, though they might become a danger to us, only for the sake of the kids with them.
But on to more positive and exciting news. Evans gave us his full report on what he has discovered about the zombie outbreak, from studying several of them, and I will sum it up for you here.
Upon dissection of a zombie, he discovered a dense growth in the skull of the creature, covering the brain and creeping through it very thoroughly. This growth, which he believes is a bacteria, seems to pervade pretty much every system of the human body. Based on the behavior of the zombies, he thinks that the bacteria infects us while we are alive, and learns our nervous systems, our brain functions, our muscular control, etc. At the moment of death, it seems that the bacteria gains full control for the first time, which explains why the longer a zombie has been a zombie, the more coordinated and clever they get. Practice makes perfect and all that.
He notes that each area of the body seems to have a specialized version of the bacteria running through it--long, tough fibrous ones in the muscles, soft and porous ones in the stomach, to absorb and distribute nutrients to the colony and the tissues of the human host. He tells us that the bacteria is both feeding the human cells while secreting something that keeps them from dieing off too quickly, and slows down the deterioration when the body does begin its inevitable spiral into decay.
This is a lot of speculation, of course, but it does make sense based on the observable data. It does leave a few things in question, such as why a few zombies seem to be mindless but otherwise living people. (Maybe they died and were taken over so quickly that the bacteria managed to restart their systems, pump blood and all the like, without allowing any real brain function...if that is the case, then some of these poor bastards might be human again with the right medicine...)
That is what his research boils down to at present. I am sure that more findings will come down the road, and I will pass on to all of you what we discover.
At least we have some clue now why the attacks have become more common, more focused. If we could find a way to keep them at bay so we didn't have to fight almost every day, we could accomplish a lot more. Any ideas you guys might have would be appreciated, just post them in the comments.
Posted by Josh Guess at 9:36 AM
Alive and Well
[This is a post by Treesong.]
Since Patrick and Josh have written about my recent injury, I thought I'd take this opportunity to let everyone know that I'm alive and well, or at least as well as I can be after being shot within a few inches of my femoral artery. I know enough about anatomy to know how lucky I am to be alive today. Also, since I'm not able to do any manual labor at the moment, I may as well write about recent events.
First of all, thank you Patrick for getting me out of harm's way. I think their goal was just to scare us off with a minimum of gunfire, but who knows what may have happened if I'd been left there alone and wounded. I knew you'd have my back, though -- and sure enough, you did. Also, thank you to our good Doctor for mending my wounds and keeping me alive.
They shot me first, and I don't think that was a coincidence given their attitude toward people who believe differently than they do.
On the one hand, John Hastings and a few of his followers seem especially fond of having protracted political and theological discussions with me. They probably do this in the hopes of either converting me or showing others in the Compound the errors of my ways. Given the amount of discussion I've had with them, and the fact that most people around here don't have the patience for long-winded philosophical conversations in the midst of a Zombie Apocalypse, I feel like I've actually ended up with a closer bond to some of them than the rest of the people who live here.
On the other hand, when the chips are down, they see me as The Enemy, along with anyone else who doesn't fit their strict religious beliefs. If we're in a community meeting together, we can discuss and debate rationally with each other, and sometimes we can make progress. But when tempers flare, and people start grabbing their guns, I'm little different from the Zombies to them. In fact, now that he's an exile, Hastings is openly advancing a hateful philosophy which insists that the Zombie Apocalypse was brought about by "sinners" -- which basically includes anyone who disagrees with him on matters of theology and politics.
I hated to send those kids into exile along with their parents. Even though they were swayed by a charismatic leader, the adults had earned their fate. But the kids were too young to really understand what was going on. All they knew is that we were asking them whether they wanted to live with their parents or not, so they chose to live with their parents, even though it meant exile. We gave them enough supplies for a couple of weeks, though, which is good. And though the adults among them may be hateful toward outsiders, they're fiercely protective of their children, so I have high hopes that the children will be fed and sheltered as long as possible, and hopefully survive all this.
It was really good to see Courtney again after the convoy returned. Given the uncertainties of her trip and my close brush with death, you have no idea how happy I was to see her smiling face again. It was good to see Josh, too, and everyone else who left -- but I've known Courtney the longest and the best, and we had plenty to talk about after our respective brushes with death and diplomatic weirdness.
I've been joking with Courtney that she must be a better diplomat than me. She came back from her negotiations with a suped-up bus and a tentative trade deal, whereas I came back from my negotiations with an ounce of lead in my hip.
r /> Oh well. Better luck next time, eh?
On a personal note, I find a certain cosmic irony in the fact that I've been wounded at this particular point in my life. Given the hard labor involved in running the Compound and fighting off the hoards beyond the gates, I was just starting to achieve my lifelong dream of becoming an accomplished athlete. I've struggled with health and fitness all my adult life, and I was a "nine stone weakling" when the Zombie Apocalypse hit. But I was really starting to impress everyone with my growing athletic abilities. And now, I'm back to Square One, barely even able to stand up and walk across the room. Evans says the bullet only barely nicked the bone, and that I should be fine given time to heal. Still, though, it's frustrating to be set back weeks or months by a single act of senseless violence.
On the bright side, I have a lovely and talented field medic who has volunteered to help me through my recovery. Her name is Bridget, and she's one of the survivors from Carbondale who I've been spending a growing amount of time with lately. Courtney likes to tease me about the fact that I've struck up a budding romance with someone who shares a name with my matron deity, the Irish Goddess Brighid. And I like to tease Courtney back by saying that she's just jealous, and that I would love Bridget even if her name was Ralph.
It's good to find new love even in the midst of all of this horror, and good to be able to joke with old friends even when our situation is dead serious. ESPECIALLY when our situation is dead serious, come to think of it.
Thank you, Bridget, for finding me in the midst of all this madness. And thank you Courtney for always being there for me. And thank you Rich and Paula, and Chris Klarer, and James, and Dan, for all of your contributions to the serious work of trying to figure out how to run a community humanely and justly in the midst of what we've all agreed can fairly be called an apocalypse. We've had our own heated debates at times, but I'm glad we were all able to make it out of Carbondale together, and glad we've been able to contribute in our own diverse ways to the Compound's efforts to get organized.
Posted by Treesong at 9:58 PM
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Rumble
Amid the constant moans and groans of the wandering zombies outside the compound, we heard a new sound this morning. Truck engines, big ones, carefully humming along. A few of our more daring scouts sneaked about to look for whoever made the noise.
It looks like the ex-military guys that we ran into on the way back from rescuing Evans are finally looking for us. They have some impressive vehicles, and from what the scouts have seen, impressive weaponry. If push comes to shove, though, we will do what we have to. They might have training and equipment, but we have the advantage of a defensive position, and the desperate fury of people that are protecting children.
We should be getting a report back soon. If there is such a thing as good luck, it will b good news. But I doubt it.
Posted by Josh Guess at 10:43 AM
Friday, June 25, 2010
Campers
The people we heard yesterday are almost certainly the military men that we ran into last month. They have to know where we are, but they are camped out several miles away, apparently either not interested in us or wary of provoking us.
I refuse to let them weigh me down right now. All of us are ready for full-on attack from them at any time, but I think we have all gotten a little sick of living under the constant threat of living people that want to kill us or control us on top of the threat of zombies. Many of the folks I have talked to here in the compound seem to feel this way--deciding to put it on a back burner of their minds, and worry about it when and if it happens.
There is a lot going on. Naturally, we are installing sections of prefab wall sent back with us from Michigan. As dearly as we would love to have the next shipment of them in, we are holding out on sending a truck of food up north and suggesting to Jack and his people to do the same, while these interlopers are here. I don't know what their game is, but I won't risk our new and fragile alliance with the folks up north.
We are building a few new watchtowers, and several of our better shots (including my wife) are showing some others how to fire long range. We have a few other tricks up our sleeves should anyone decide to come knocking without an invitation, but you will excuse me for not sharing them here. The element of surprise is always understated in its importance, no matter how much credit you give.
My brother has some plans to work on some modifications to the existing power grid, so we can try to network up all of the houses in the compound to the solar arrays and turbines that are being set up as I type this. It won't be enough for air conditioning (which sucks, because it's balls hot right now) but it should be more than adequate for lighting and charging some of our equipment. In an awesome display of goodwill, the folks at Google HQ have been nice enough to have a few of their engineers design some battery arrays for us, and instructions on how to build them. Thankfully there is no shortage of car batteries around, and the design is pretty much scalable to any degree we could want, so we will have some power at night when the old grid finally goes down.
It can't be long now. The folks at the power plant send word that they are very low on combustibles, and without people to harvest wood or other fuel, they will have to leave. I hope they choose to come here.
Posted by Josh Guess at 10:17 AM
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Quick
they're hitting us. we are under attack. do not come here unless you are ready to fight, kill, and die if you are against us.
Posted by Josh Guess at 2:26 PM
Sunday, June 27, 2010
All That You Can Be
Well, the good news is that we didn't exactly have to endure a siege yesterday, but the bad news is that these fuckers don't seem to be going too far away, either.
We should have known that something was going on when the zombies outside the wall, nearly a constant fixture over the last few months, started to move away from us in droves. Maybe they felt the vibrations of our most recent attackers as their massive military vehicles trundled on toward us, but whatever the reason, we should have seen the exodus as the warning it was.
Our loss of life was minimal. We lost two of our scouts before the attack, which is why they didn't get any warning to us. They must have been caught beforehand...
They hit us with some light fire at first, peppering the front wall and forcing our sentries to duck out of sight. Fortunately for all of us, the metal sections that we got from Jack included armored parts to hide behind, so most of the folks on the wall got away with small or no injuries.
I think it was their intention, these army guys, to "shock and awe" us into submission. They obviously aren't just out to kill us, or they would have done much more damage. It seems they underestimated us, though, because they scattered for a bit when we put a round from our tank right into one of their lead vehicles.
It took a lot of effort to get that damn thing hidden in a place that had line-of-sight to the front of the compound, but man, it was worth it. Bought us some much needed time to regroup and set some plans. When they came back, we were ready. Riflemen kept them at bay long enough to make them give up for a while. But another scout team tells us that they are holed up less than a mile away, and are staged to attack again at any time.
We have learned our lesson about taking the fight to anyone. We are safer here, and we are ready should they come. We will give no quarter, and expect none.
Posted by Josh Guess at 11:14 AM
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Disaster
Yesterday was a the worst day since society crumbled, at least in our small corner of the world.
The people that hit us a few days ago came back, and this time they were in real military form. They managed to get someone inside the walls through one of the incomplete sections in the middle of the night, and he blew a hole big enough for a dump truck to drive through in the front gate. These ex-military bastards hit us with rocket propelled g
renades, heavy machine gun fire, all sorts of shit. We fought in the streets, we fired at them from blinds, we killed and killed until there were only a handful of them left, and they surrendered.
We executed them on the spot. Seven bodies now hang in front of the broken gates as a warning to those who come against us with malice.
But the cost was too high for any of us to bear. We lost thirty adults and six children in the conflict, an injury to our little community that has all of us in deep mourning. Most of the dead were killed in the fighting, though two of the adults died trying to protect all six of those kids, only to have the house they were hiding in hit with an explosive, collapsing the structure down on top of them.