Living With the Dead: Year One (Books 1-2, Bonus Material)
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We also hate that the folks from Lexington have to be so far away. It was never our intent to segregate them in any way, only that we were already packed to the gills here and there weren't many other options.
Which leads me to one of the other ideas we have had on the back burners. Since there are two neighborhoods literally butting up against us and we need a lot more room to breathe, efforts are being put into gathering what we need to start annexing. We have all the heavy equipment we need to make boards and beams, but what we can get from Jack and his people is about maxed out. They can only produce so much extra for us, the rest needs to go towards their own defenses.
The real problem is that we need to conserve fuel. We are trying to get someone with mechanical experience to look at some of our equipment to see if we can modify any of it to run with electric engines...
Not much else to report today, other than something I think is sort of interesting. Lt. Price--Will-- is in my back yard, just like he has been the last few days, digging up his own food to eat. The interesting bit is watching his determination. He digs and digs, absolutely focused on finishing, no matter how much pain his damaged arm and leg cause him.
Every so often he finds a rock, usually something small. I have watched him off and on, examining the stones with an appraiser's eye as he tosses them up and down. I've seen him heft and toss them with increasing speed and accuracy at the shed in my yard. At this point he's fastballing them a second after he finds them, and hitting an area about the size of a softball pretty much every time.
We can't allow him a weapon yet, so he finds his own. One arm is immobile, so he learns to fight with the other. He's adaptable, and tough as a coffin nail.
And I think he's becoming one of us.
at 1:55 PM
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Perspective of Jess
Posted by Josh Guess
Perspective is everything.
Before the apocalypse I worked on third shift, so I was usually awake to see the dawn come, though I almost never had the time to watch it. Now I have to be up before the sun peeks over the shoulder of the world, and I have watched it rise most days.
It's always beautiful, but rarely moving now. It is simply another part of my day, something that happens. Before it was still a rare and glorious thing, given how rarely I could watch. But now that I have to be up and outside when it comes...
It's the same way with people. I've said it before but it remains true--right now human beings are split into three basic groups for me. The dead, living people that are threats, and family. I define family as all of those who live in peace with us, anyone who has come here with a hope for peaceful coexistence.
I am sitting up in the main watchtower, typing while my wife sits next to me in a camp chair. She's looking at the same thing I am, the guards along the wall doing rounds and occasionally picking off a zombie. She is seeing it in a lot more detail through the scope of her rifle.
It's been hell trying to get her to be safe while she's pregnant. She's so far along now, and I worry. But she was starting to go stir crazy not being a part of the defense, which I get. But she managed to convince several people that she would be just as safe in the tower as in the house. I disagree, but I also trust my wife to be careful for herself and our child. She has been a force within the compound since before it existed, and it's hard to deny her the right to defend others.
But all of us still worry, of course. Jess is a different person than she was before the fall, not as emotionally fragile or shy, but now somehow more outspoken while managing to be reserved. I know that seems like a contradiction but it really isn't. Think of her as a dispassionate observer who waits to speak until the facts are in, and just add in some creative swearing and rude hand gestures, and you've got her. It has made her universally known here, respected by most, and loved by many.
She's my wife, but all of us treasure her.
at 10:56 AM
Monday, September 6, 2010
Aaron
Posted by Josh Guess
I got an interesting bit of information a few minutes ago. There's apparently a small group of survivors in Lexington, maybe a dozen or so people. The email they sent out to us got stuck somewhere along the line, so it's a week or so old. There is still a lot of lag and downtime in our emails, so I am not terribly surprised.
The leader of the group is a guy named Aaron. He was a student at one of the community colleges there until the fall. He sent me a pretty decent length message explaining the situation there, including location and the best way to get them out.
That's why this post is going to be cut short today. I am going to pass this on to the council and see what we can do, try to plan out a quick pick up...
at 7:49 AM
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Adapting
Posted by Josh Guess
The team left out to get Aaron and his people a while ago, and we are hoping they will be back before dinner. I have my doubts that they will see this done that quickly, however, since we are seeing an increase in the zombie population around here.
Some of our scouts reported seeing several groups of them ranging between one to two hundred standing in the now-familiar pattern that means smarties (smart zombies) are trying to convert normal zombies. I guess it didn't take them long to start rebuilding their numbers. Thank god they aren't attacking us yet.
Most of us think that this calls for an attack, sending out a group of armored fighters to chase them, trap them, and thin the herd. Some don't agree, reckoning that we are much safer here than going out to fight. That's probably true, actually, but it enough of them come at us at once, especially the smart ones, we could be in serious trouble.
Will Price is with me and my friends on the council here. He's of the opinion that the truly less risky course would be to attack the problem before it can grow too large, only risking the lives of less than twenty people in an attempt to prevent or at least delay a large scale attack on the compound. He pointed out to the doubters that we are currently doing a lot of work outside the compound prepping the adjoining neighborhoods for annexation, and I think that might have swayed some of them. We'll be voting on it tonight, or after the transport party gets back with Aaron and his people, whichever comes first.
I am amazed at Lt. Price's ability to make people understand the tactical advantages of ideas. He knows that he still isn't fully trusted, but he still seems to do his best to resolve conflicts logically, acting in the best interests of the compound. He knows that he isn't one of us just yet, and still he holds no grudge at our distrust, only doing what he can for the betterment of all.
He's also getting stronger. Evans says that he is healing at a pretty incredible rate. Will still isn't able to walk, but he is standing for brief periods, and the pain isn't nearly as severe as our good doctor thought it would be. Evans thinks that Will's leg might be doing much better than anticipated, and could be up and about in a few more weeks. I know the grumpy old bastard would probably like him to stay off it the full two months, but we can use every man. Besides, it isn't as though any of us will let him do anything strenuous. He's a fighter, that's for sure.
In his free time, Will is hanging out with my wife quite a bit. No, nothing sinister, since I am usually around and I don't see anything untoward going on. Rather, Jess is teaching our wayward soldier the finer points of agriculture, all the random facts she knows about planting and growing things. Part of my brain wonders if he intends on getting an education here and taking it back to Richmond one day to pass on his knowledge to his fellow soldiers. I don't know if I like that idea or not, if only because it would mean he is planning to leave and is using us, but my base setting is generally positive for the concept of sharing ideas and experience.
Oooh. My brother Dave just came in, and is telling me that we have a guy who thinks he can modify some electric motors to run some of our saw equipment. That's really awesome, it means that we can start on the
annexing soon. We have enough stores of lumber to make a good start on the process, maybe a week's worth, and in that week we should be able to make a lot more. It might not be pretty, but we can start.
And our folks down by the river will have a safe place to live, right next to us.
Today's a good day.
at 11:56 AM
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Cancel Red Alert
Posted by Josh Guess
Well....Aaron is here, and he's alone.
The team managed a pickup yesterday, but due to a zombie attack sometime between when we got the email from him and when our people made the pickup, a mob of zombies killed all of his people. He only escaped by falling right next to a truck, and managed to hide in the undercarriage about half a block from the rendezvous point. When he heard the team drive up and start clearing out the herd, he made his presence known.
He's an interesting guy. In his early thirties, he's got a very similar personality to my own. Loves comics and anime, tabletop gaming, and has a hard vein of practicality in him sufficient to the task of survival. He's also been a student off and on for most of his life, and has a zeal for teaching. Which is awesome, because as many of you know, my sister was our primary teacher until she left for the safer confines of Jack's compound in Michigan. I hope he likes it here, because we need someone who knows how to teach without trying to reproduce the broken and mind-numbing system that we used to have.
He's not showing much pain at the loss of his people. I don't know if that's because he barely knew them, or he's just been numbed to the pain of loss as some folks are, or if he's just holding it in until he can get some privacy, but he seems to be dealing.
He's pushing Will Price around in his wheelchair at present, getting a guided tour. Patrick has taken this rare time away from the Lieutenant to come talk to me about him. Most of us think that he is sincere in his desire to be a part of us, and the idea behind him living and working with Patrick was to see if my big Alaskan chum could spot any duplicity in him, catch him trying to case us out for information to take back to his fellow soldiers in Richmond.
I am happy to report that Pat hasn't seen a thing to cause suspicion. Will is apparently what he seems; a soldier sent out on a mission that ended in tragedy for those with him. He wants to live here, be one of us, and I think he should be welcomed.
Some of the people around here have wondered why he should be looked on with such concern when many others were brought here and essentially handed the keys to the kingdom. The answer is simple if loaded with implications: when other people came here, they were as refugees looking for a place to survive. When he came here, it was because he was sent to our town by a group that possibly has the resources to obliterate or conquer us in a matter of hours.
I can handle a large group of individuals who just want safety. The dangers they bring are individual and dealt with in the same manner. If they were to pose any sort of group problem, chances are that it would be a social one, dealing more with issues of tolerance rather than control. We've seen that happen, sadly. More than once.
But a single man who represents a larger group of very powerful people? People with the means to strike from miles away, to kill dozens at a go? That one man could mean death or slavery for all of us. It's not the flock of birds in the field ahead of you that should worry you, but rather the snake hiding by itself in the tall grass.
So today is another good day. I think we'll get the council together, and see about removing the restrictions from Will.
Huh. Just heard a gunshot, and it sounded really close to the house. That's unusual. I can hear some people yelling. Maybe a few zombies got inside the perimeter. Better go check it out.
at 10:37 AM
Thursday, September 9, 2010
He Didn't Have a Name
Posted by Josh Guess
I haven't been back to sleep since my post yesterday. I can't even begin to describe the horror of the last day, but I have to get out the events. Writing has always been my way to relieve my mental pressure. That's why this blog exists. How to begin?
Where I left off, I guess.
I went outside when I heard the gunfire and people yelling. I thought maybe there was a breach in the wall, perhaps a few zombies got through. I was terribly wrong.
The scene I came upon less than thirty yards from my house froze me solid for a few seconds. There was Patrick, Aaron, Will, my wife Jess and a Big man in an army uniform. Pat and Aaron were crowded around Jess, who was laying on the ground covered in blood. Will was kneeling painfully at the side of the man wearing fatigues, checking for a pulse.
I couldn't understand what I was seeing. It made no sense to me.
Pat, Aaron and I all seemed to move at once, hauling jess up into Will's forgotten wheelchair, and we rushed her around the corner to the clinic that was once my mother's house. I don't know how long we were there, or how much blood Jess lost, but I was at her side the entire time Evans and Gabrielle were working on her. I held her hand and prayed, begged to god that he save her. A god I hadn't talked to or fully believed in for a long, long time. I wept at the agony I saw in her eyes as my friends pushed themselves beyond their limits to save her life, and that of our unborn child.
Hours, it seemed like. It might have even taken that long in reality.
But she's alive. Our baby didn't make it.
Gabrielle didn't want me to look at him, but I had to. I couldn't let him go without at least touching those tiny hands at least once. I needed the reassurance that he had been. I don't know if I can explain it, so I don't think I will try more than that.
Jessica was unconscious by the time the baby passed, so she didn't have to deal with the immediacy of it. I don't know how I am going to be able to tell her when she comes to. Jess had always been indifferent bordering on not wanting children, but when we found out she was pregnant, things changed. She changed. I don't know if I can bear to be the one to crush the joy in her heart as it has been in mine.
I found out much later what happened.
Jess met up with Aaron, Pat and Will as she was coming home. The army guy came out of the south woods, yelling at Will. He got close to them, yelling about Will coming back home. Pat and Aaron were unarmed, but tried to give Jess and Will cover with their bodies. The guy drew a gun, but Will was prepared. He pushed himself out of his chair to snag a rock from the ground and to get out from behind his two protectors.
Will threw perfectly, crushed the guy's throat. Pat and Aaron were shocked enough that both of them moved from where they were standing, and that made an open path to Jess. I would like to think that the shot was just wild and random, that no human being left alive could possibly shoot a pregnant woman on purpose. I don't know. But regardless of his intent, the result was clear.
Evans took a look at the man's corpse not too long ago. He says that there are deep bruises in the shape of fingers around his windpipe. I guess Will was doing more than just checking for a pulse. Good for him.
I need to go check on Jess again. If this seems flat and without my sometime habit of writing elaborately and with pretty words, it's because I just can't find the right ones to express what is pouring through my head right now.
I have to go.
at 7:40 AM
Death to Aggressors
Posted by Treesong
I've known Josh in passing for years now, but I've really gotten to know him much better in the months since the world around us has crashed and burned. Usually, Josh has been the one to call for more security, more weapons, more draconian responses to the mindlessly hostile world in which we now live. And usually I, along with a few of our friends, have been the one to call for communication, for cooperation, for even tempers and merciful responses, even in the presence of brutal acts and heartless people.
But you know what? I'm running out of patience, running out of understanding, running out of mercy.
We live in a world where most of humanity has either outri
ght died or been turned into some horrible mockery of life we now call "Zombies." And here, in a small corner of the Heartland of America, a small community of us are doing what we can to band together with other peace-loving survivors and build a new life for ourselves. Our goals may at times seem selfish — and may at times BE selfish — but we are part of a grassroots effort to rebuild humanity from the ashes of a global apocalypse.
After all that's happened — the collapse of civilization, the death of most of humanity — how can any sane person dare to violate the peace among the living, to invade a settlement of survivors, to bring needless death into a world already overflowing with the living dead?