by Joshua Guess
I haven't slept in days, so I will not try to name all of the dead, but I will say that each of them were heroes, for not fleeing or giving up, for staying here through all that we have suffered on the slim hope that we might make something better than what we left behind.
I have to give credit to some other people as well, without whom we would surely have failed to defend this place.
When we got our first hint that trouble was around the corner, we sent word to Jack and his folks up in Michigan that they should stay away to keep safe. He agreed with me, but apparently decided that we might need a little backup. When the fighting got intense, we heard more vehicles rumbling down the road, which most of us thought had to be more of the enemy. We were wrong. Jack sent about fifty people in some of the armored vehicles they had modified, and they saved us. Jack's people set to immobilizing the vehicles the enemy arrived in, which forced them to realize that only victory would keep them alive. For all that it made them fight harder, it also pushed them further into the compound.
They were surrounded by what amounts to a neighborhood full of farmers and builders. Regular people fighting to keep what they made. They never had a chance.
There are consequences, of course. We are short so many people now that our projects are all suspended for the most part. This might be only a temporary issue, since Jack is letting any of his people that want to come here to live do so. We have some folks here that want to go north to live with Jack and his people, and while this hurts me, many of them have kids, and I understand completely.
My sister is one of them.
Jackie is going to be leaving with her husband and kids as soon as transport can be arranged. I love my sister more than I can explain, for more and better reasons than mere blood. Jackie is kind-natured and loving, a wonderful mother and a talented teacher. I will miss her, but since we have lived apart for much of our adult lives, it is a situation that I have experienced before. Her husband is a computer programmer, so his talents will be very useful up north, and they have four wonderful kids to think of. I will miss them all, but I want my family safe as well.
My greatest hope is that Jack will have enough folks who want to come live with us that we can continue our works as before. But I recognize that while we might have enough come here to gives us comparable numbers, for all of us that survived the last few days the world have changed forever. The toll on us in friends and loved ones is too high for anyone to deal with, on top of the losses we all still feel from the world collapsing around us. We are in mourning and hurt, and for myself, I can say that I might be hurt a little too much to ever get so close to new people again. I think most here are wary of getting too attached to anyone else at this point, for fear of a repeat performance of the pain that has basically shut us down right now.
Maybe I am being too dramatic, but it feels like happiness is an abstract, as far away and as untouchable as the moon. We will smile again, and laugh with people, but I have to wonder if we will simply be going through the motions.
I pray not.
Posted by Josh Guess at 7:30 AM
Blasphemous
(From Courtney. Woo.)
We killed and killed because there was nothing else we could do. I am getting so fed up with other people forcing our hand. It's always been easier to destroy than to build, but why take by force when you could just ask? What has our community ever done but give freely to whomever is in need? What is the damn point of shooting at us when we would usher you in through the front gates, so to speak, if you came peacefully? I'm sick of looking at dead people. I don't feel anything right now, not triumph over our fallen foes, not sorrow over our dead. Just the urge to not have to look at corpses any more. They're pale and waxy and don't look quite human without that animating spark, and I think it reflects my fear that we will become less than human over time.
From a strategic point of view, I feel disgusted with such wastefulness. The invaders laid waste to much of our hard work, they wasted the potential of so many lives, including some that had just barely begun. They wasted their own lives, in the end. What did we gain yesterday but destruction? What did anyone gain? Thirty-six dead is a SUBSTANTIAL loss, and that's not even counting casualties on the other side, though a creeping bitterness makes it tempting to say our opponents' lives ending doesn't ultimately count for much of a loss.
So what do we do? For my part, I've been throwing myself headlong into whatever reconstruction and cleanup efforts I can. My muscles are screaming at me in protest; though anyone's life in this harsh new world could hardly be considered leisurely, the relatively soft life of a diplomat has gotten me a bit out of practice for heavy lifting. On a tangential note, THANK YOU, Jack, Lisa, Randall, Kimiko, Amadi, and all you others who have not only put aside fear and prejudice to reach out to us and our community, but came through and helped us so much in our hour of need. You're true heroes and genuine human beings, and you've given all of us some much-needed hope right now, as well as an actual shot at survival. I miss everyone up north so much, but there's no way in hell I'm leaving here now. I don't blame anyone who wants to get the heck outta Dodge; there have been plenty of close calls lately. I just have this little stubborn part inside that ignites when random groups of violent idiots come bringing death to our doorstep AGAIN, and there is just no way I would give them the satisfaction of running me off. At least not for now.
Finally, I never did properly thank Patrick for protecting Treesong while our diplomatic group was away. I had this D&D character who became obsessed with increasing her speed and mastering teleportation, so she could get to anyone who needed her help instantly. Not having mastered those skills IRL, knowing there was literally NOTHING I could do to help you guys was agonizing. No one can be everywhere at once, which is why it's so great to have a devoted group of friends and family you can count on to carry out good works in your absence. Thanks so much, Pat.
Well, focusing on the positive for a little while has helped improve my mood a great deal. I'll be getting back to work, then. A big ol' F-U to the warmongers that can't seem to get it through their heads that the old ways were dying out even before the zombies, and the standard invite to those who want to forsake the mindless violence and ceaseless drive for conquest, and help build something real, a place to call home. It's harder, but I still believe it's worthwhile.
But the bodies. Man. The sight of fallen friends and neighbors should never be something that fills you with irritation and disgust rather than grief. I know I'm not okay right now, but I promise I'll get my head together soon. So many lives, so much potential, just snuffed out...it's so stupid and pointless. So if you're feeling particularly expansionist in your violent tendencies, please do us all a big favor and stay the hell away from our compound. We have plenty of bodies already, and right now, no one here is feeling particularly reluctant to add yours to the pile.
Posted by Courtney at 1:31 PM
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Mending
For the foreseeable future, posts are going to have to be fairly short. The rebuilding effort around these parts is our primary goal, and clearing away the rubble and burying our dead is going to take up a lot of our time for a while.
But a few notes are in order, I think.
Courtney captured the mood around the compound right now perfectly. We are so frustrated that for every milestone we seem to reach, someone has to show up and try to knock our progress back. We are, as a group, moving toward being much less inclined to give armed invaders much of a chance. If you come to us with arms open, we will welcome you in kind. If you scout around our home and look at us down the scope of a rifle, we will end you, plain and simple, and your body will feed our dogs.
I am still in a state of numb shock, with a creeping line of anger snaking its way up my brain stem. I want so much for us to thrive in peace, but this constant influx of aggression is stopping that. So...measures are being taken. We'll leave it at that.
The first load of p
eople from Michigan are on their way here. From what Courtney tells me, about twenty are coming this go round, with maybe more to come. I know that the folks up in Jack's camp are encouraging people to migrate here, since while both of our groups have plenty of room, ours has a greater capacity for food production and can sustain a large population indefinitely. So with luck a great many more will come over the next few weeks, but we would be happy with even just one.
The bus will be dropping off those folks and head back up immediately, which means that very shortly, my sister and her family will be gone. This saddens me, but I am dealing.
Back to work. Walls to be fixed, collapsed houses to be scrapped and recycled, and honored dead to lay to rest. If any of you out there are the praying type, please try to think of us next time you talk to the big guy.
Posted by Josh Guess at 10:41 AM
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tired Unto Death
I am in a state of exhaustion so deep that I can't really even describe it. All of us are. Between the cleanup effort around the compound and having to constantly fend off zombies from every breach in the wall, we are all about to drop. We have been discussing just stopping for a few days now that the majority of the hard labor is done, and posting guards only. No wall construction, no work on projects. Just short shifts on guard duty and then rest for twelve or so hours.
We really need it. We are still able to defend ourselves if we need to, but our minds and bodies need rest to get anywhere close to 100%. We are all getting loopy due to insufficient sleep, except for my wife and the other two women here that are pregnant. They are all exempt from heavy labor, of course, and the three of them are currently trading off rifleman duty.
We got the last of our dead ready for burial a few hours ago. It took so long to get the last of the children's remains from beneath that house, but none of us wanted to stop until we had. If ever there were a scene that gave us the resolve to fight on, to defend our home from anyone or anything, it was watching those tiny figures as they were hauled up from the depths, so frail and helpless beneath the shrouds on them.
But nothing can put off mother nature forever. We expect some of Jack's people in a few hours, and they have generously offered to keep watch for us. So most of the compound will be able to sleep for more than an hour for the first time in days. Perhaps with rest and dreams to purge our thoughts, tomorrow will be a better day.
Posted by Josh Guess at 11:39 AM
Friday, July 2, 2010
Dealing
(Courtneypost)
I am hot, tired, and crabby today, and on top of that, I am extremely lonely for my family right now. In light of these factors, I'll try to keep it brief, so we don't have too sloppy of a grief-wallow here.
Repairs continue on the wall, and there is plenty of low-key bitching about having to spend so much time fixing something that was so recently constructed, but I think, for the most part, we are happy to have something to do. Josh is quite busy, as usual, and though he is no longer the "official" leader, I see him around the compound, giving advice and encouragement, lending a hand here and there. I see that while he may not be THE leader, he will always be a leader, taking point and encouraging others to keep carrying on. What concerns me a little bit is that he didn't yell and cuss over this most recent incident, he didn't stomp around fuming, didn't have to be talked down from "taking matters into his own hands." Everything is sort of brusque and efficient. I think about how numb I have felt recently, and I wonder, is he feeling the way I do? Or is there some master plan brewing, that is yet to be unveiled? I guess they don't have to be mutually exclusive...
Steve, on the other hand, has been surprisingly demonstrative of his anger. The whole time we were moving debris and bodies, he kept grinding his teeth, breaking the occasional board or other piece of rubbish for no reason, and muttering, "Bastards," and sometimes, "Rat bastards," under his breath. I catch him staring hard at the hole in the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists. This may not seem like a big deal to most folks, but for Steve, it's practically a declaration of war. We'll have to see where this goes.
On a more upbeat note, we'll be having an Independence Day celebration here at the compound. Grilling up some veggie burgers (yes, they're tasty, Tree, but I want a steak, dammit!), taking the slightest bit of a break. Rich will be reading some selections of writings from freedom fighters of various eras, and I do love me a good impassioned speech. Not sure fireworks would be a really great idea, but...sparklers? I think we should at least rustle up a few sparklers. It should be a nice time, and I have long loved celebrating on the Fourth. Freedom has always been sacred to me, and I can't help but feel that now, more than ever, we might understand what it feels like to form a nation dedicated to such a lofty ideal.
Posted by Courtney at 5:53 PM
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Disconnect
I was so busy yesterday, trying to get more materials organized for the continuing effort to repair the wall that I had no time to post. Many thanks to Courtney for taking up the slack.
Not a lot is going on around here other than what we've been telling you the last few days. It's funny, you know, because to us it is constant and furious work to get our walls shored up and repaired, but to you out there learning about our lives as we live them, its the same old same old.
So instead of boring you with reports about lumber and gasoline levels, let me share something personal with you.
As all of you know, the world ended about four months ago, for all intents and purposes. You know the basic spread of the plague that created zombies across the world.
Fours months ago, I was terrified at the sight of a zombie. When men showed up to attack us, cold fear gripped my insides. It took a real effort not to lose control of my bladder. That may sound funny to some of you, but you are the minority. Most of you out there have felt that ball of ice form in the pit of your belly, the dread certainty that your life was in real and imminent danger. That you would have to do violence to save it.
I have felt rage and hate, frustration and contempt. Courtney has expressed her surprise that I haven't had any outbursts of these things, and to be honest, I am just as surprised.
You see, I think something is wrong with me. I don't know how wrong just yet, but I am pretty worried. I used to feel things so very strongly, deep passions and intense reactions. But something is different. It's sort of like I see the world through misty glass. I see mothers weeping for their children and I feel a tug at my heart, but not the mighty pull that once would have gripped me. I don't know if this is just a safety mechanism for my brain, having been overloaded with too much painful stimuli over the last several months (and especially the last week), or if perhaps I have some hereditary predilection for psychological illness that is just now starting to bloom.
Whatever the reason, I am feeling distant from people. I still say and do the right things, but I am disconnected from the act of doing so. My social interactions are on autopilot, and I don't know what to do.
Is this how you out there are feeling? I suppose that time is the only way I am going to be able to tell how serious this is. Don't worry, I will keep Evans in the loop and if I start to feel farther away from myself, I will try to connect. I don't think I'm going to go serial killer on you guys or anything, only numb.
Enough for today, there are zombies to pick off and a wall to rebuild, and too little time for either.
Posted by Josh Guess at 11:54 AM
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Free
I am feeling better today. Not my old self yet, but after a good long sleep and some meditation, I feel like the fog that has been rolling through my brain is lifting some. Maybe my brain just needs time to adjust a little better to the fact that I can walk a mile in any direction and run into the walking dead, as well as the heartbreak of constant attacks and constant loss. Maybe we're all suffering from information overload, emotional overclocking, and I just got it worse than most
others.
My sister and her family left yesterday. Two full buses have dropped off settlers from up north, bringing us about fifty people so far. Jack tells us that more are coming.
Jackie will be missed around here, and not only by me and mine. Everyone liked her, or her kids, or her husband. They were a popular group among people of all ages, and we had a bit of a going away party. But she and her husband have to make their choices for the good of the kids, and all of us understand.
Now that things are stabilizing around here a bit, my brother Dave and I are getting back into the swing of planning our stages of construction. Of course, a lot of rebuilding is going on still, but we are hard at work making sure that our defenses will be up to the challenge the next time trouble comes calling.
Patrick is working with a few of the migrants from up north, one of whom was a metallurgist, another a machinist with smithing experience. Pat is in heaven, as he has always wanted to learn the craft of blacksmithing. The council (excluding him, since he is on it) has decided that he needs some time to do some things that he wants to do, explore some ways of being useful that he enjoys. Pat deserves happiness more than anyone I can think of, both for who he is and for what he has done for everyone here.