Living With the Dead: The Bitter Seasons

by Joshua Guess

  And those rules say that when winning the game means survival, anything goes.

  I won't lie and say that I'm not worried. I am. I'm terrified that I will die, or lose someone dear to me. I'm scared in general for the safety of my people, our supplies, and even our animals.

  Last week I talked about my misogi experience, and what I learned from it. Funnily, I re-read Duneover the weekend, and something in it that related caught my eye. It was the first lesson of the Mentat, which says, "No process can be understood by stopping it."

  It fits. My realization was that no struggle can be won by fighting against the circumstances that define it, or at least not the ones you can't help immediately. All of that sort of gelled together in my brain.

  I am ready for this fight. All of us are. We cannot and will not shy away from it or the risks involved simply because we don't like them. We won't hesitate to pull the trigger or swing the blade because of the horror that wells up inside us as we watch the blood spray or feel the steel bite into bone and sinew. The survivors who live here in the compound have bought and paid for what we have built here with blood and tears, too many times already. The idea that anyone should come here and try to intimidate us into leaving or submitting is simply unacceptable.

  People will almost certainly die today. Us. Them. We will fight if we have to, kill if we have to, and never for a moment mourn our attackers. Any guilt we might feel will simply be the regret all of us go through at the grim necessity of what we have to do to live. Perhaps a shred of sadness thrown in that the human race still can't get on the same page even after all civilization has fallen down.

  I need to go, and I don't know when I will be back. Wish us luck, pray for us, whatever it is you do for those you want to succeed, we'll take it. Today will leave its mark on us forever, no matter what happens.

  They are coming.

  at 8:25 AM

  Thursday, December 2, 2010

  Judas

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Jess and I are holed up in a safe location, far away from home. So much to tell you, and most of it is still a jumble.

  Not long after I posted my entry yesterday, news reached the compound that a firefight had broken out at the I-64/US 127 overpass, where the exit was blocked off by my people. Darlene and a group of marksmen had settled on the bridge, waiting. The rest of the mobile teams with her were scouting and waiting for the enemy to show.

  When the soldiers from Richmond came into view, everything went to hell. They had apparently been expecting this: every one of their vehicles with a flat top on it had a sniper laying there. When the enemy stopped a quarter of a mile from the bridge, Darlene poked her head just far enough over the concrete to see what the situation was.

  It only took her a few seconds, but that was all the time the shooter needed. I'm told that she didn't die quickly after the rifle round took off the top of her skull. Her second in command gave me the gory details.

  When the scouts reported in via radio, Will gathered a team and headed out immediately. He left Dodger in charge of the compound's defenses. I should have known something was wrong. With Darlene dying, Will became our leader. All of us waited for about fifteen minutes after Will left, wondering when more sounds of gunfire would begin to chatter over the hills.

  It's frightening how much our world can change in a quarter of an hour. The zombie plague took weeks to destroy the central part of the US, spreading exponentially as living human beings who had been bitten fled for parts unknown in terror.

  In fifteen minutes, Will Price destroyed us.

  The only reason any of us made it away from the compound before they arrived is thanks to the brave men and women who initially went out with Darlene. They saw Will call for parlay, saw the commander of the Richmond soldiers meet him halfway between our people and theirs. Saw that fucking snake in the grass talk for a few minutes before the enemy commander motioned for his troops to follow. Will gave us up without much of a fight.

  Our troops didn't like that shit at all. They opened fire, trying to take out as many of the enemy as possible. It was only because of Jamie Packard that any of this got back to us at all. He was Darlene's second, and his men demanded that he leave, call us on the radio as he ran from the fight so that the rest of us could run. He didn't want to leave his soldiers, but they made him see reason quickly. He's got a shiner that almost swelled his right eye closed.

  From what I have gathered since, our boys and girls must have delayed the Richmond soldiers for about twenty minutes. I've gotten sparse reports since then, but from what I can tell, all fifteen that were left out there after Darlene was killed and Jamie was sent packing are dead. Their lives bought and paid for the freedom of every person that managed to get away from the compound, and for that I can never thank them enough.

  This is a contingency we prepared for. Stupid as I apparently am, I lost any mistrust of Will Price a good while back. Many of us still had worries about being sold out, though, which caused us to set up some fall back measures in case we had to run. We gassed up about two dozen vehicles, using fuel that only the council was aware existed, taken from one of the secret supply caches we'd set up around town. Every one of those vehicles is stocked with two firearms, one long and one short, four hand weapons, extra blankets and stores of food and water. Add in a few small supplies for living rough, and you get a pretty good emergency plan. They were stashed in hidden locations away from the compound, only waiting to be found by those who needed them and knew they were there.

  We ran. I don't know who it was that got on the PA system at our little amphitheater, but may every god there is bless and keep her. She passed the facts on to everyone who wasn't hanging out in or around the council chamber when the news came in. It had been agreed upon weeks ago that we should keep a good number of vehicles fueled up and ready to leave at a moment's notice, empty of supplies so we could cram as many people into them as possible. Almost everyone in the compound keeps a backpack or travel back stocked and easy to reach, stuff they will need in the event of unexpected circumstances. No one needed to be told to do this; they just aren't stupid. All of us are survivors, and we know from terrible experience that being ready for anything, well stocked for whatever possibility, is the best chance any of us have of survival.

  It was the sight of so many people toting those bags that really struck me. I had to snag a few things from my house (including my laptop, cell phone, and chargers...) and when I came out with my backpack and Jess's, I saw so many friends and coworkers pelting off toward the bus just down the street, to vans and box trucks, that I almost broke down into tears.

  I didn't. The stark image of so many citizens of our little community fleeing with such certainty was awful, but I've lived this long against men and the undead by being able to suppress those feelings at will and doing what needs done.

  At last count, almost a hundred of our people have contacted me to check in. That's the number of folks that have escaped the compound. Others have sent me messages to let me know that they are alive but still at home.

  One of the first emails I got was from Will Price. I won't be posting it here, but I will give you the gist. Will swears that he had no intention of handing us over to the Richmond soldiers. He said that he had hoped to broker some kind of truce by talking to his old CO, but when he learned that our options were cooperation or certain death (by an even mixture of heavy arms fire and nerve gas), Will says he went with surrender to save our lives.

  I don't fucking buy it for a minute. You may wonder why so many of us ran at the news? Because Will goddamn Price knows every crack and crevice of the compound. He knows the defenses to the last bolt. Every gun emplacement, patrol schedule, trap...He could and would have gotten the Richmond boys in there in little time. I'll show willing when my home and friends are threatened, but staying to fight would be suicide. I would much rather flee and start all over again than live under the thumb of anyone, much less some Judas that I once thought of as a
friend.

  There are still a lot of people back home. Those who didn't run were warned by nearly everyone that did not to fight if they were going to stay. I don't blame them for not wanting to leave. Some of them simply didn't believe the news. Some felt too invested to pull up stakes with zero notice. I can't swear to the motivations of any of them, really, but I can't find anger in my heart for people who saw and option to survive and keep what they had...for a price.

  So I'll just direct all the rage toward the man responsible for the shit-pile we're in right now. My wife and I are nearly freezing in the place we settled at for the day with a dozen others. We don't dare light a fire, so we're bundled up and huddled together, eating cold food and swishing our water to keep it from icing over.

  I don't think I can say much more right now. My laptop is at about half power, and there are still a ton of people to contact before I can try to sleep for a bit. I'm working on no rest at all since yesterday, trying to dull the murderous rage in my heart and head by forcing myself to feel numb, and the fucking chicken soup I'm drinking out of the can has globs of fat in it that remind me too much of blood clots for me to enjoy the food at all. I want heat, sleep, and safety.

  None of us will be getting any of that within the near future.

  Will Price. Give me the zombie hordes any day.

  at 8:57 AM

  Thursday, December 2, 2010

  Survivors

  Posted by Treesong

  I don't know if Will's story is true. Frankly, I don't care. He knew that our plan wasn't surrender. If he took Darlene's death as an opportunity to change our plans "for our own good," he's a traitor just the same. Either way, he's a dead man. The punishment for treason is death.

  What part of Death to Aggressors didn't you understand, soldiers of Richmond? What good do you think will come of this insane and murderous act of war you've committed against one of the few organized and largely peaceable settlements in the aftermath of the Fall? Do you really think the value of any weapons and supplies you've gained will outweigh the ill-will you've earned from all other remaining survivors? You've earned a special place in our hearts, but we're not the only ones who know what you're doing. Survivors around the world are reading this. More people will probably start reading once they hear what you've done.

  The whole world is watching you. What do you think they will make of your actions?

  The only thing preventing me from going back over there and hunting Will down personally is that my beloved Bridget is with child. She's three months along, and she's more important to me than anything or anyone else right now. I must focus on protecting the next generation rather than eliminating the people of the old generation who have don't have the moral integrity and/or common sense required to cooperate with other peace-seeking survivors.

  We are in a defensive position now, and I will honor that. Of course, there's also the fact that I don't have the years of experience required to be an excellent sniper. I've gotten pretty good at it, that's for sure. I can take out zombies at quite a distance when I need to. But long-range sniping of humans is much harder — and I wouldn't want to risk missing. So I will save the Punisher-style vengeance trip for another day.

  Why, Will? Why? And soldiers of Richmond, why? If we're to believe Will's side of the story, which seems implausible, you must be congenial enough that he thought he could convince you to change your course of action. If you're anything other than a soulless conquering hoard of murderers and slavers, then why would you invade a peace-seeking settlement of people who are doing their best to rebuild human civilization and ensure the survival of the species? Yes, we have guns, and yes, we have sometimes used them against the living. But only for the sake of defense, never for the sake of aggression as you have done.

  An unprovoked act of military aggression is the greatest of all war crimes because it is the crime that opens the door to all others.

  If you're willing to offer us the unconditional return of our newly created homeland, then we can discuss the whys and the hows of your action at a safe distance from each other. But if you prefer to hold onto the fruits of our labor without making your motives clear, then it doesn't really matter what your motives are, does it?

  You are a force of nature, sweeping into our land for reasons unknown but easily guessed, taking away all that we have built with our blood and sweat and tears. But make no mistake, we are a force of nature too. We have survived the Fall of human civilization; we will also survive this needless invasion by a band of heartless Marauders.

  Just to be clear, you're not part of the U.S. military anymore. Wearing that uniform and driving that vehicle doesn't make you a part of the U.S. military. You're just a few punks with guns and poisons who have no respect for human life or human rights or human dignity.

  Give us back our compound. And short of that, leave us in peace, and don't send anyone looking for us. We're really not in the mood for any snipers or soldiers or further mind games. We're not going to invite you over for a cup of tea. Any unannounced visitors to our retreat position will not live to tell the tale.

  If you're not going to give us back our homes, go enjoy your ill-gotten gains for a while and leave us in peace out out here in the dark and the cold. Our rage will keep us warm.

  at 1:47 PM

  Friday, December 3, 2010

  Tears

  Posted by Patrick

  Life is funny. The only reason that I left to find my family was because that I knew that the people that I love and care about were safe and secure. Every thing that we had sweat and bled for, to make life some what safe is all gone.

  I spent the last two days out of touch and a little sorry for my self, alone, scarred, cold, and with no sleep. When I finally find a little safety and a place with power and cell service, I find that my friends are worse off than I am and betrayed as well. I don't know what to tell you, all my efforts to get in contact with any people fleeing the compound have been met with silence.

  I sit here trying not to fall into despair and self pity, but it is so hard. My mind plaguing me with what if's. My righteous anger slips through my fingers being so far away and over come with worry, but I pray that it sustains my friends.

  The only people that I've gotten a hold of were in Courtney's caravan to the South. They are ok and just as anxious as I am about every one back in Kentucky. Josh's brother David had to be restrained to keep him from going back, it only cost some bumps, bruises, and a few black eyes to do so. Courtney is going to push on because her mission is more important than ever now. I don't know how she does it, being able to quiet the heart and listen to your head when the blood is boiling and all you can see is red, but she can and I am amazed.

  Jack's compound has been in touch with her since Josh's last post. Both have had little luck reaching any one still alive or free in Kentucky either. So we lug our heavy hearts around in our tasks, trying to ignore the tears that fight to break free while hoping against hope that our friends and loved ones will reach us soon.

  The dead have found where I'm hold up but there are only a few of them out side now. I have about an hour before there are to many to get away, just enough time to let the tears win, to let out some of the grief and pain trapped inside me.

  at 10:06 PM

  Saturday, December 4, 2010

  Menagerie

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I didn't get a chance to write a post yesterday, and I can tell you with some certainty that they're going to be more erratic for a while. Jess and I are camped out with our group again, which has now grown to more than thirty people. Most of them are from the compound, but s few are members of other communities that heard about what happened and went looking for us to lend any help they could.

  There have been several people from around the country, both from the compound and outside places, that have offered to write posts. A few of my fellow refugees have even mentioned it, and due to the hectic schedule of running and trying to survive this cold, I'
m pretty likely to take a few of them up on it. Just managing our daily needs outside of the comforts of the compound is taking up a tremendous amount of our time and effort.

  For example, Jess and I managed to bring all of our animals with us. You'd be amazed at how many people ignore the dog, cat, and ferret food when the apocalypse happens. We've been stocked up for a long while, and those things weren't forgotten when we fled home the other day. It's still a huge pain in the ass managing two dogs, three cats, and two ferrets. The dogs (who we never thought would learn to behave) have become amazingly obedient since The Fall happened. They protect us when we stop, circling around wherever we camp or sitting at the doors of a building if we stay in one. They go apeshit whenever they scent a zombie, though given the several inches of snow on the ground, I don't see that as being a problem in the near future. They will growl and bark at strangers or noises the rest of us can't hear, so they more than make up for the hassle of bringing them along.