by Joshua Guess
I named her Athena. I've always liked that name, and Jess and I have always liked giving our pets strange and non-pet sounding names. I hear her chirping at me now. Good thing I set out a little trap for some bugs. She can eat a lot of them...
Monday, May 23, 2011
Cooped Up
Posted by Josh Guess
Last summer we dealt with unbelievable heat and drought. This year the flavor seems to be storms. The one we had this morning was only really bad for about ten minutes, though during that time the wind was strong enough to bowl a person over if they weren't careful. No damage to report, but our newly acquired stock of chickens weren't all that thrilled with it.
Yesterday I had actually intended to write a post, but my brother strong-armed me and a bunch of other people into helping him build a bunch of chicken coops. Though we intend on letting most of them wander around when possible, we also wanted to have somewhere they could sneak off to in bad weather. It's also convenient in case we just need to stick them somewhere out of the way.
The place we found the chickens was relatively small for the number of them we gathered. I say relatively because the fenced area itself was pretty damn huge for a fenced area. I guess that's because the people there were actively farming free range birds. I'd say it was about eight hundred feet on a side, and there was a creek running through it.
Our farmers have to water them, but the feeding part seems to be going pretty well. There are a lot of plants and bugs out there to be eaten, and the chickens seem to be content in their new home. We're having a bit of trouble coordinating the logistics of egg gathering for free-range birds, but that's a problem for another day. Hell, I'm just glad they went into the coops when the storm came through.
Not that dirt-floored pens made of one-by-one posts and thin roofs of plywood, aluminum, and whatever else we could find for materials are exactly waterproof. Or windproof for that matter. I was told that the birds got pretty agitated by the wind coming through the wire sides. Guess we'll have to build windbreaks, too.
Funnily, people don't react well to being cooped up either. It isn't just the storms I'm talking about: I think living in what is essentially a walled for for a year has had some small but cumulative psychological effect on many of us. It's contrary to human nature to stay closed in for so long, to not be able to freely move about whenever the hell we want to. We know intellectually that it's safer, and thus equals life. Instinctively, though, we feel a stronger urge to go out and move freely.
I think that might be part of why some people around here are more prone to getting irritated and resentful. I've felted caged many times, and looking back it seems like every time I've gotten sick of it, I've gone out on some mission that I really could have left to other people. And I kept doing it, regardless of the risk involved.
I mean, honestly--the majority of people alive have been killed and/or converted by the zombie disease. How many times can one person go out among the walking dead and reasonably expect to come back alive? Our scouts and hunters are chosen to do just that very carefully. They're incredibly cautious and well-armored. They always travel in groups and watch out for each other. Even so, it's a huge risk for them every time they go through our gates.
I'd love to find a way to channel some of the excess stress and irritation, especially for the men of the compound since we're so testosterone heavy and much more prone to act irrationally because of it. That isn't sexism against my own gender, by the way. It's just biology.
It's something I'll have to think on. I'll ask around, see if anyone has ideas, and maybe try to poll some folks to see which of them might be popular. Every system has to have a relief valve for the pressure that builds, and people aren't any different. We'll just have to find something that fits.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Contentment
Posted by Josh Guess
I sort of feel like I've been ignoring some things. Important things, at least to me. In the midst of all the recent problems, ranging from the heavy storms and food shortages to zombie attacks and discontent within the compound, I've let some things that really mean something slip by without speaking about them.
Becky, for one. I can't describe to you the feeling I get seeing her every day. I know that sounds strange given how much I've talked about my wife, Jess, and how devoted I am to her. I guess the difference lies in my relationship with each of them. Jess is my best friend as much as Pat or Becky, and I'm so head over heels in love with her that sometimes it literally hurts my chest.
It's just that Becky sort of predates that. Granted, I've known Jess longer, but I got to really know Becky first. Having her living in the house with us is awesome. While my wife and I share the same dark sense of humor and sardonic view on most things, Becky and I share the interests that Jess and I lack. Jess and I are gamers, or at least we were. Becky's last video game might have been Tetris. Becky and I are both science nerds, whereas Jess enjoys the practical application of what she knows rather than murky theories.
It's like that in a lot of ways. All of us spend a lot of time together, and we all learn new things from and about each other on a daily basis. Kind of amazing that we all get along so well. It's even more amazing that Becky seems to have begun moving on from the fragile state she was in when she showed up here.
She's not a fragile person by nature. She's bubbly in personality, this little blonde thing that you might expect to be pretty stereotypically girlie. Contrast that with her service in Iraq, having survived two IED explosions and still going back out to save lives every day. Think about the hell she's gone through to get here. I can't imagine how many zombies she had to have killed to make it from the east coast to Kentucky. She's honed fighting skills she didn't even have two years ago, learned to survive on nothing but determination and cleverness, and most important--stayed alive.
It took a toll on her. I've said it before, but having her around is like realizing I was missing a finger and having it grow back. The things she's seen and done aren't easily forgotten. The horrors we all face on a regular basis are bad enough, but she's had more than her share.
But since Becky has been here, that has slowly been changing. The distant look she gets in her eyes when she isn't occupied with something is showing up less and less. The frown lines at the corners of her mouth aren't so deep. The wounds inside her aren't going away. That's impossible as long as memory remains. But they do seem to be scarring over. She's moving on.
What is really satisfying to me on a deeply personal level is seeing how she has affected people around the compound in the short time she's been here. Hell, she's even impressing folks that don't live here. I got a few emails from some survivors in the other groups we keep in touch with, expressing doubt that I was telling the truth when she showed up. What were the chances that yet another person I know managed to survive. Not only that, but to make it here from the other side of the planet?
It should say something about the kind of people I choose to associate with. Really.
I come from a family of smart, tough, pragmatic people. That is how so many of my family survived (though not all that many when you think about the dozens who didn't...) when The Fall happened. I warned as many of them as I could, and some of them listened. I love my family, and I choose my friends with similar traits in mind.
Hence, Becky. Part of why I feel so jazzed about her being here is because she's such an amazing person. I'm not at all surprised that someone who can comprehend the harder parts of theoretical physics, stitch a person back together, run a country mile in six minutes, and have the toughness to survive as a combat medic who is also female in the boys' club that is the military, would live to make it here.
People who seem surprised that some folks have managed to overcome extreme odds apparently haven't taken too hard a look at human beings. We hear and see stories that seem amazing and epic, soldiers who drag twenty men to safety in the middle of a firefight or something similar, and we forget that thos
e stories are about people. Ordinary people who do extraordinary things. Not because they are special in the traditional sense.
It's because each of them recognized that all of us are capable of such things. Every damn person. That is one of our best defining characteristics. Adaptability, cleverness, and the powerful urge to survive. Combine that with human intelligence, and I'm shocked that more people didn't make it through The Fall.
It's that capacity to overcome that really gets me. In the obvious ways, it amazes--acts of heroism and skill, odds defied and enemies defeated. Right now, I'm equally floored by the more subtle aspect right in front of me...
...Becky is feeling better. All things considered, that's pretty fucking epic.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
A Growing Boom
Posted by Josh Guess
I decided to start walking again this morning. I'm not quite up to running yet, but it feels good to get out of the house for a bit with my dogs and talk to people. Actually, taking the dogs with me is not only good exercise for them, but also a good conversation starter while I'm wandering the compound. They're just too damn cute for people to ignore. I've done more standing than walking today while folks give Riley and Bigby affectionate scratches behind the ears.
It's especially nice to know that there are people to do the grunt work of running the compound so I don't have to feel guilty about taking an hour for myself. I don't mean that to sound disparaging or petty. Each person that works with me to manage the different aspects of the compound's daily operations is a godsend. Spreading the work out among seven to ten of us (the number varies from day to day as Becky and a few others take an interest in learning the ins and outs of my job) means that every part of the job can be looked at by fresh eyes and in much greater detail. Also, it allows each of us to have the flexibility to take days away if needed without damaging productivity.
I might be the one who is supposed to coordinate the work of all the others, but the truth is that any of them can sub for me in a pinch. That was the case this morning. Becky is taking a shot at doing my job for a few hours under the careful eye of the rest of my co-workers.
The walk itself was very informative. One thing that surprised me as I was dragged around by my overly energetic canines was how many pregnant women we have. A large number of pregnant women isn't all that surprising in and of itself. After all, history is a pretty good teacher of how population booms happen. Look at Africa and the AIDS epidemic there (I know this is a bad comparison, because babies are pretty much on the other side of the spectrum from AIDS in terms of good versus bad, but bear with me). In Africa and some other places, populations continued to grow even after the number of people infected with HIV reached epidemic proportions. That trend continued even when enough people were educated about how the disease as transferred.
Part of that was lack of protection, of course. Married couples who were both infected and couldn't afford condoms...well, it makes sense, right? Another part of it is simple human nature: adversity and lack of distraction lead to making your own fun.
Of course, the situation here isn't perfectly comparable. We have access to contraceptives (thankfully those aren't all that hard to find. The apocalypse seems to have taken the fear out of sex for a lot of people) and the knowledge that treating STD's and pregnancy-related medical problems have become difficult and, in some cases, impossible. Most of our population has been pretty responsible with this, females tracking their cycles to make sure they don't have sex when they're most fertile. People using condoms when possible. Birth control pills when available.
Today, though, I saw at least twenty pregnant women in various stages. Some had barely noticeable bumps, a few others looked on the verge of giving birth while they stood there petting my grinning dogs. Again, I'm not shocked that women are pregnant. After all, if adversity makes people want to affirm life through sex, then the people here should be going at it like teenage bunnies at prom. Plus, most people have a good chunk of free time if not a proportional amount of privacy. That's a recipe for baby-makin' if I ever saw one.
No, I'm just surprised (and a little disappointed in myself) for not noticing earlier. This isn't the first time I've felt disconnected from the compound, which was why I started jogging all those months ago in the first place. I wanted to get out on a daily basis and meet people, see the people behind all the numbers I had to juggle in my official capacity. When you're working to keep a community of human beings running smoothly while living under the threat of constant zombie attack, it's vital to remember that they are human beings. Not just parts of an equation.
It also seems pretty helpful for me and my co-workers to know about pregnancies so we can plan accordingly. With the undead wandering outside the walls and laying in wait for us when we go hunting or scouting, it's more important than ever to make sure that our community can and will grow over time. As we strengthen and stabilize our food supplies, that may mean taking on additional adult survivors. But children are the future (wow, that sounds lame, doesn't it?) for us and we're going to do whatever it takes to make sure those kids are safe, fed, and have access to every resource they might need to survive in this new world.
Yeah, a lot of pregnant women means more mouths to feed down the road. But that's good! Not only is it a motivator for us to work harder and bring in more food, but we WANT babies around here. We want to start the next generation. A man who goes outside the walls to hunt or fish or even scout might take extra risk if he's a bachelor. Less so if he's married. A man with a small child at home will do everything in his power to provide for that child, and also to make sure he comes home if he's any kind of man at all.
The zombies give us reason to fight. Children, the proof of life and love made of our own substance, give us reason to live.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Gap
Posted by Josh Guess
You remember a few weeks ago when my front left tooth was hurting? Like, so bad that I wanted to rip the damn thing out? You probably remember that Evans and Becky managed to fix it, if roughly. Well, last night it started hurting again way worse than before.
This morning it was so bad that Evans just went ahead and pulled it. He's a dab hand with tiny stitches and knows how to keep a wound from getting infected, so I'm not too worried about that part. Nor am I in pain anymore since he used the most powerful numbing agent he would find. It is pretty strange though, looking in the mirror and seeing a spot where that tooth was.
I know on one hand that it had to be done. There wasn't much chance of Evans or Becky being able to repair the problem since the first go round apparently didn't work. On the other hand, I see my face differently now. There's a piece of me missing that I probably won't get back.
I know there's little chance that we'll manage to find a dentist who survived. Frankly we've gotten lucky to have the medical personnel that we do. I see the gap between my teeth and remember that just a little more than a year ago, this problem would have been simple to resolve. An hour or two of work, and no more gap.
It's the idea that this is such a permanent change that bugs me. Yeah, I've gotten a good collection of scars since the zombies spread across the planet like wildfire in summer, but scars are something most of us had to deal with before The Fall. Granted, some are worse than others, but scars don't necessarily lessen you. They don't take away. Scars simply mark the consequences of a bad decision, a sloppy mistake, a valiant deed.
I can't help but feel a sense of loss, which is completely stupid. It's a tooth. One tiny bit that won't really make that much of a difference in my life. Maybe part of why it bothers me so much is because I know that in the world that was, I could have had a replacement there even if my dentist couldn't have saved the tooth. An implant or a bridge. Something to give me the illusion that I was whole.
I guess I won't be getting that. I'll have to be careful how I eat. I probably won't smile with my mouth open as much. I don't know if anyone but me thinks this
is worth writing a post about. I don't even know if I think it is.
But I wonder: if it were a finger or a hand, wouldn't that be worth it? What makes it so damn important to me? It's a piece of my body I can't get back, though admittedly not one that will affect my survival ability like a finger or hand would. It's just bothering me. I wanted to vent. Sometimes I do that.
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Waves
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm not going to write much today. I can't. I'm so damn tired that words don't even come close to being able to express it. As one of the bowmen that take to the wall when a sizable attack comes, I didn't get much sleep. We were hit by about four hundred zombies overnight, and while the trenches did a great job holding them back, they soon filled with the corpses of slain undead.
Given recent events, I'm feeling a bit paranoid. The smarties have driven their zombie armies at us before in attempts to test our defenses, and this feels like that. Why else would so many undead come at us for so long right at where we are strongest? Maybe the smarties are trying not only to test us, but to reduce competition for their limited food supply...