Living With the Dead: The Hungry Land (Book 3)

by Joshua Guess

  Already longer than intended. I've got to go. Will is waiting for me to finish here. Wish us luck.

  Friday, June 10, 2011

  WeHaul

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Once we finish piling the bodies of the most recent wave of zombies to attack us, we're going to pack up and head out. The swarm that hit us this morning was bigger than the others, about forty in all. They came at us from the mouth of the valley this time because we had to clear away a few of the barriers in order to fit some of the vehicles we found through it.

  We're going to have a lot of people driving. We found the abandoned remains of a small trucking company tucked away in a small town behind what looks to have been a distribution center for a cannery. The cannery itself has been ravaged like a hooker with a half-price sale.

  Sorry, I've always wanted to use that line.

  The trucks we found aren't ideal--most of the ones we grabbed are box trucks. We had to get those because they run on gas. We're using gas vehicles instead of diesel ones because we also found a large container of gas that we can load up and take with us. It looks like one of those five hundred gallon plastic water drums that farmers use, semi-clear white plastic. It's got a hand pump sticking out of the top of it, and the gruesome scene we found the thing at makes me think that someone (lots of someones, judging by the body parts) had just finished filling it when they got hit by a zombie swarm.

  Aside from the box trucks, we've also got several more pickups with trailers. It's going to be a tight fit to get these people and the gigantic load of food they're bringing with them loaded up, but we'll manage. We sort of have to.

  I get the feeling that the council is still iffy on whether or not we should be doing this. I know they've given us permission (possibly because they know I'd tell them to fuck off and do it anyway if they had said no) but I can't shake the feeling that maybe they don't really think that we should be taking on new people right now, regardless of what they can bring to the table.

  I get that. Really. I know better than anyone how short our supplies will run if anything drastic happens. I know that there will be complaints from the faction within the compound that has threatened to strike over food rationing. I am painfully aware that extra mouths to feed simply wouldn't be welcomed if they weren't bringing truckloads of edibles with them.

  I'm going to stay positive about it, though. Mainly because being negative and worrying about the problems that might occur doesn't do us any good. I'm hoping that since the people from the valley have had such extensive experience farming, they can help bolster the number of folks we have at our own farms. More hands means more food planted, and we need to get as much in the ground as quick as we can. It's June already...

  Not to mention that there are a fair number of decent hunters among them. I really think that we can manage a lot more productivity with these people to help.

  First, we have to get back home. The good news is that we know the way there is clear, and we kept very detailed maps of the crazy route we took to get here in the first place. If we can keep decent time on the road, I'm thinking we can make it home by sometime tomorrow. If we can manage to get out of here at a reasonable time today, that is.

  That's my cue. I'm going to go help pack up and make sure all the vehicles are topped off. And since I'm the one who's basically coordinating all this, it falls to me to make sure the most important part of this trip is seen to properly.

  I have to remind everyone to pee before we go.

  Saturday, June 11, 2011

  Road Warriors

  Posted by Josh Guess

  We've got the wagons circled at the moment. I mean that metaphorically. There isn't enough room on the highway to actually do that.

  We're in Kentucky but only just. Apparently we must have attracted a lot of attention on our last trip through these parts, because about ten minutes after we crossed the state line from Tennessee we hit a mass of zombies large enough that we couldn't just drive through them. There must have been a thousand of them on the road, and more out in the woods.

  That's enough undead to do serious damage to us if we tried to bully our way through them. Probably enough of them to tip us over or at least stop us cold. Jess and I are in the lead vehicle, so we stopped as soon as we spotted the swarm milling way down the road at the bottom of the hill we are on. All the drivers got out of their respective vehicles and we had a quick word with each other, which basically ended with Will telling everyone to calm down, that he had an idea.

  So now we're waiting and watching as he slowly works his way toward the massive crowd of zombies. We're lucky that Jess has such good reaction time, since she managed to stop our truck just as we crested the hill. We haven't been spotted. The rest of the vehicles are on the other side of the hill, out of sight.

  Will has a backpack full of stuff he brought with him, and he's supposed to call me when the way will be clear. Everyone is waiting for the signal, which is just our truck starting and moving forward. I don't know exactly what Will is planning on doing, though I will admit a small part of me is worried he'll just ditch us. I don't think he'd do that, but then I didn't think he was the type of guy to sell us out to the Richmond soldiers either, even if it was for out own good.

  In fact--

  Huh. Usually when a lone vehicle gets close to a zombie swarm, they start to form ranks around it. Will's car is still about two hundred feet away, but the crowd is already splitting like he's Moses and they're the sea.

  Ah. Phone.

  Well, that was a short call. We're moving now, Will is telling us to go. The conversation went like this:

  Will: Get going

  Me: OK. How'd you do that?

  Will: Ammonia. Move it.

  Me: Why aren't you unconscious?

  Will: Gas mask. Fucking GO.

  So now we're going. I was wondering why his voice was so muffled. He must have been pulling the mask away from his face while he talked...

  I'm really curious how he's getting such a wide spray of the stuff going, but that's a question for later.

  Monday, June 13, 2011

  Ragged

  Posted by Josh Guess

  It was a tired and nervous group of people that finally made it back to the compound. The zombie swarm we drove through thanks to Will's forethought didn't give up on us. Instead they followed, and because we had to take a break not far away from where we left them to refuel a few of our vehicles, they caught up with us.

  The casualties were small compared to what they could have been, but we were cautious when we stopped. We lost two of the food trucks in our escape, and five of the men from the valley. Those brave souls stood their ground and held off the initial wave of zombies, giving us just enough time to get away. If the entire swarm had hit us at once rather than just the faster zombies from it, we'd have all been lost.

  Those two trucks amounted to about 20% of the food these people were bringing with them. One was full of fruits and vegetables that hadn't been preserved, the other a mixture of dried meat, preserves, and fresh veggies. We tried to mix each load of food that way, so that the loss of any given load wouldn't be disastrous. The vegetable truck was one of the last ones we loaded, and by that time we were in a hurry.

  I've been home for more than a day, but I still haven't been able to get a read on how most people around the compound feel about newcomers. I've been busy catching up with my fellow coordinators on what's been happening while I've been away, so I haven't really had the chance to talk to a lot of people. I have spent some time with Pat and his girls, and one of them asked me over breakfast this morning (a very early breakfast, since I still have a lot of work to catch up and the girls had been out just before dawn collecting eggs) if we'd have to cut our food rations because of the new arrivals.

  I told her I didn't think so, because they'd brought a lot with them. I told her that these people were very good at farming and hunting, and that they had managed to do very well for themselves. She se
emed skeptical. I didn't blame her.

  The truth is that none of us can see the future. I'm all about being as practical as we can in making sure that the largest number of human beings possible can survive. I saw the angry looks on the faces of some of our sentries and guards as we tried to get our caravan of vehicles inside the compound, which in itself was an awkward and dangerous job. Leaving the gates open for so long might as well have been ringing the dinner bell to the local zombies, and then at the end we had to take all the trucks we got from Tennessee back out since there was nowhere to store them inside the walls. Getting them in, emptying them, and getting them back out seems like such a simple thing, but the frustration it caused the people who had to do it was clear.

  Then again, I saw even more relief on the faces of people who had known terrible hunger. The sight of truck after truck being unloaded of their burdens of foodstuff must have been almost unreal to them. It's not a permanent solution, but those stores will go a long way toward feeding the people until our crops mature.

  I've also been talking with some of the council members and a few other people about the best way we can make use of our new citizens. That's likely to take up the majority of the day. One advantage we have here is that we are practical, and organized, and ready to solve problems.

  These last several days have changed me somehow. I don't know exactly why or how, but I can tell you with certainty that two weeks ago I would have left these people to fend for themselves if it meant keeping my own fed and safe. I'd have felt bad about it, but I'd have done it anyway with total conviction.

  Now, I know for sure that I couldn't do that. I don't know if it was seeing so many pregnant women struggling to get by that moved some unseen switch inside me or what, but I'm different.

  Before this trip, I think I saw people outside the compound and the few small groups we are close to as static, unchanging. To me they were just survivors that had potential use, but could be ignored if needed. In the valley I saw a thriving group of people who had managed to create a wonderful home for themselves, and welcomed the chance to bring children into it. It doesn't sound like much, I guess, but life changing events that alter how you see the world don't have to be big shows. Sometimes the most important lessons are the ones we have to look hard at to see.

  I feel changed. I can't help it. I see those women looking shyly around their new home, wondering where they will sleep when the decision of what to do with them is made. I see them and think of all the others out there who have beaten the odds and won the struggle for so long, and I feel something inside me want to scream out at the injustice of it.

  I used to think that in our situation, the highest moral code you could follow was the survival of the tribe. And maybe that's still true. I can't help but think I was woefully ignorant of other things, though. Compassion is strong, but I've always advocated being able to ignore it for the sake of pragmatism. Maybe human civilization needs to have that overwhelming sense of compassion to become better than it was. Maybe we have to make the conscious choice to do right and damn the risks. I don't know what kind of world we would build without it, but today it seems that such a world would be a colder and less loving place than I would want to raise my children in.

  So much work to do. Now, more than ever...

  Tuesday, June 14, 2011

  Phalanx

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Our new arrivals are settling in to their temporary home here inside the compound. While we were gone Dave and some of his construction crew went over to the National Guard base across the road and dug up some large tents. There aren't many empty spots inside the walls to put them, but one place close to the western wall is pretty bare of vegetation given all the repair work we did there. That's a little closer to danger than I'd like to see the new folks put, but it's all we can manage right now.

  My cohorts have been working pretty hard to plan out where all the new arrivals will be staying permanently and what jobs each of them might be best at. Farming and hunting are obvious choices, and a few of them have a lot of experience defending. Today we're doing interviews with each of them to try and determine what the best fit will be. They'll be short ones, I hope, maybe ten minutes apiece, and each of my fellow coordinators will be doing them along with me. Part of the reason we're doing this is because we want to try to move some of our less satisfied citizens away from jobs they don't like since we now have extra people that might actually enjoy some of those jobs.

  I know for sure there are a few guys who hate working in the mess halls, and would rather get out on the wall or to the farms. A few of the pregnant women we brought from Tennessee like to cook, and since it's relatively safe I think a trade might be beneficial.

  One of the women we brought back with us is very interesting. Her name is Jen, and I watched her for a long time last night. No, not like that--well, a little, since she's a lovely woman. No, I was watching some of our spearmen practice working in a phalanx, as many of us do from time to time. You may remember them from a while back, a small group of interested people that wanted to work on the spear-and-shield technique as a way of defeating much greater numbers of zombies.

  They've been practicing a lot lately in their spare time, and last night I watched Jen stare at their drills in fascination. She's an interesting lady, very knowledgeable about a lot of things but most interested in hunting and combat. She was the person most likely to be found patrolling the edge of the valley while we were there. She is a good archer, I'm told a good shot with a gun, and she definitely knows how to use a machete and hatchet. I saw that firsthand.

  The phalanx was practicing for about twenty minutes before she got up from where she stood and walked over to them. A few of the men were surprised to see her grab a spear from the rack. Even more were caught off guard when she shouldered her way into the hollow square formation they were in without a shield. No one said anything at first, but Jen caught them off guard one last time by shouting the orders she'd heard Will giving the men from inside the square.

  Those men are well-trained, and Jen has grown used to command. The tone of her voice was as rough and take-no-shit as any drill sergeant, if a few octaves higher. When the line moved forward to strike, shields tight, Jen slipped between the men with her slim frame and brought her spear down with a powerful overhead strike. When she gave the order for the line to pull back, she leaned hard against the men locked together in a tight defensive stance and swept her spear out in a hard arc.

  It was awesome. The men had practiced similar things before, but most of them were too heavy or big to make it work out right. Someone always overbalanced or broke the line apart. That was mostly due to the fact that the space inside the hollow square is small and hard for most guys to maneuver around in.

  Jen showed us the obvious solution to that. She suggests four women inside, each with a pole arm. Not a spear, but rather a bladed weapon like a halberd. Swinging away from safely inside, mowing down the undead beating on the shields.

  Beautiful.

  Wednesday, June 15, 2011

  No Rain

  Posted by Josh Guess

  The weather has been super nice lately, which is fantastic considering the nearly unbearable heat we suffered through last week. Right now it's a pleasant fifty nine degrees out, and if yesterday is any indication it will stay cool and dry all day.

  Kentucky is one of those places that never stays dry when it's hot out. I've known a lot of people from hotter states over the years (Arizona, California, etc) that have told me how oppressive the heat here is because of the humidity. I agree. The only thing worse than living inside a walled fortress under constant threat of attack by zombies is having to do it with a sweaty back and frizzy hair.

  The only thing that could make this run of nice weather better would be a little rain. We're in a bit of a dry spell at the moment, which isn't all that uncommon around these parts. Fortunately the insanely heavy rainfall last month left us with full cisterns and barrels, an
d we have a lot of reserves to draw on. Not to mention the vast number of creeks and the river itself, which we can draw from if things get desperate. That's not an ideal choice given the face that our pumps are all manual and that we have to haul the water a good distance to get it to the compound, but it's nice to know we aren't helpless.

  The farms are the larger concern. While two of them use nearby creeks as water supplies, the one out in Bald Knob has to rely on stored rainwater to feed the crops. That one has a lot of storage in their cisterns, but it won't last forever. One of the other farms closer to the compound also relies on stored water in dry times, and they are already having to haul water. Luckily Benson Creek is close, so it's not too hard, but it'd be much better if Benson actually ran through the property like the other farms.