The trip to Carterville should be a short one, though it seems pretty likely that the roads will be further packed with zombies. They tend to fill in any gaps when you mow a bunch of them down. Route thirteen is sure to have some surprises in store; to expect anything else would be optimism bordering on stupidity. If we have to, we can take alternate routes there as well. It helps to be from this area.
When we get there, it's going to be up to Steve and me to do any searching on foot that may be needed. Dave will join Jess on the roof, covering us with rifle fire if needed, while Pat will be manning the steering wheel for a quick exit. Jackie and her husband will be wrangling their kids. That's a job, let me tell you.
We're ready to go. I hope that we do find some people, and that we can keep ourselves safe if or when we do. It's a lot more dangerous here than back home. Not only is there virtually no rise or fall to the land, which keeps us in near constant sight of zombies, but I think the same folks that built that wall of junk are also responsible for all the damn traps we keep finding. It is slightly amusing, in a dark way, to see a zombie get caught in a snare and get hung up by the ankle, or stumble into a pungee pit. It's sobering to realize that we could easily fall prey to them as well.
Off we trot. Next stop, Carterville, Illinois. Population: 3,600. Survivors: ????
Posted by Josh Guess at 9:56 AM
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Stuck in the middle
We're stuck in Carterville right now. Someone set some very well hidden traps, and the bus is now short two front tires. Luckily, we think the school district here used the same buses as Franklin county, so new wheels are on their way. Steve is showing my brother where the bus garage is, and it will be up to Dave to get them on, since I have no idea if there is a jack big enough to do it...
The rest of us are hanging out in the bus. I haven't talked to anyone back home today, but last I heard, all was well, save for a few minor zombie attacks. We got a fair look around here after we made it into town, but haven't found anyone alive. My aunt and uncle, as well as my cousin, are gone. I have to assume they are dead, though I searched their house and found no signs of violence. It had been looted, but no blood, no bullet holes.
There are signs that someone is out there, though. The wall may have been there last time we came this direction, but I can tell you with total certainty that some things have changed. Areas that we drove through freely before are blocked off, whole blocks are burned down that were fine last time. I can't tell you if they are a threat to us or not, because we haven't seen them. The huge changes around here are part of the reason I am not following through on the strong urge to run around and search for people. Our passengers have to be priority number one.
...Just got a call from my brother. Apparently he and Steve have come across something. He thinks they've found the place where these survivors are operating from. It's pretty close to the bus garage, apparently. I have talked to everyone about it, and the consensus seems to be that we should check it out. Not in a stupid way, of course. Two of us can go, leaving the rest of the group out of sight in the bus, ready to roll if we need to go in a hurry. I am conflicted, though. One of my best characteristics is my boundless curiosity, but it also happens to be my biggest flaw. Jackie is all for us just leaving now, and when I look at the tired, dirty faces of my nieces and nephews, I agree completely.
Dave argues that we need to start opening lines of communication with other camps like ours. I agree with that sentiment, since it appears that the human race has become a minority on the planet earth.
It's too important a chance to miss. I think I will go, and Steve has volunteered. We can watch them from a good bit away for a while, see if anything incriminating happens. If we decide it's safe, I can leave my phone in an open call to Dave's, keeping a sort of bug going. Besides, they might have supplies we can trade for, and topping off our fuel couldn't hurt, as we've found none here so far.
I will try to post more later today. Hoping that whoever that anonymous poster was the other day gets in touch with me before we run into Carbondale. After the ridiculous wait here after having to try several different routes to get into town, I would love to justify all the extra time and risk by bringing out a big load of folks.
Dave is calling again. He and Steve are on the way. Found a truck to haul those tires in, and a big ass jack to lift this beast up with. Hope we can get moving before too long. Getting tired of the zombies wandering too close and us taking turns killing them. The first few are a nice distraction, the next thirty a tiring chore.
Posted by Josh Guess at 11:30 AM
Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch
Right, so, Courtney here, with all the latest zombie-apocalypse gossip. Actually, not so much with the gossip; I'm not exactly what one might describe as "wildly popular" here at the compound. Sayeth the almighty Josh, as one might recall, "It shouldn't be any real work for her, to be honest. It isn't for me, since we have no issues at present that require an arbiter. I haven't had to make a call on anything since we let the looters go, and since the compound is in agreement on most everything else at present, my hope is that things will run just as smoothly for her, in my absence." Ahh, Josh. Great guy. Likes to paint himself as the worldly cynic at times, but really? About as much of an optimist as you're ever going to find, sometimes to absurd, spiky-haired-anime-hero levels. He's had high hopes and grandiose plans basically as long as I've known him, and suffice it to say that diving headfirst into the Battle For The Fate Of Mankind has done little to abate this.
Of course, he is so focused on these firefights and rescue missions and whatnot, that he tends to overlook other details, like the fact that the compound is NOT in agreement on things, and things are NOT going smoothly. Tension is at an all-time high, and I've entertained more than once the idea of attracting the attention of a roving pack of zombies just so we have something to band together and fight against, rather than ripping each other apart. Obviously haven't gone with that option; more using that to illustrate my perception of the situation.
Some of these former captive chicks hate my guts, utterly despise me, and I guess I don't blame them. I argued for sparing the lives of the captives we took, the "looters" themselves. And man, we have got to find a better way of referring to these dudes. It's freaking doomsday out here, EVERYONE is a looter, if they have even a ghost of survival instinct. Beside the point. Anyway, my own (possibly too) optimistic belief is that there are very few people in life who literally have zero hope of redemption. Once you kill someone, though, boom. That's it. Not even the remotest chance they will ever do a good work upon this earth, no chance to feel remorse for their wrongdoings, no chance to prevent another from going down the same road they did, nothing. Beyond that, I promised myself long ago, a geeky, socially ostracized tween, that if there was ever somebody with no one else there to defend them, no one to speak up and advocate on their behalf, I would do it.
And so there these guys were, no longer assaulting us with gunfire or molotovs, but completely restrained and sullenly awaiting their fate, or, in some cases, looking downright terrified. So I spoke up for them. Are these classy-looking dudes? No. Would they have been my friend, pre-zombieland? Are you kidding me? Chuckleheads like these dweebs were the reason I and others of my nerdy tribe even WERE socially ostracized! And, ohh. Oh, my God. The things their people did to these women. Josh has glossed over it, from what I can tell, so out of respect for him, and for them, I'll spare the bulk of the details, too. But on some nights, you can hear their muffled sobs as they wake up crying, or perhaps were never able to sleep in the first place. I've comforted some of them, in the past. The fact that they are so hurt, hurts me. Was making a few friends. I was teaching them to play D&D, and some of them were even nice enough to pretend like they were interested. But now, for the most part, they want nothing to do with me. They have this furious, yet deeply wounded look in their eyes. Even if they don't speak a word to me, their faces seem to say, "You betrayed me
." And maybe I did. Not only that, if I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.
So. When it came down to the decision-making crunch time, as Josh has said, I was SO not in favor of electing a king or whatever the heck. I do stupid stuff, and get taken to task for it time and time again, but my accomplishments and screw-ups are my own, and I don't need anyone else to take the credit or flack for them. And let's think, do we maybe have a bit of an issue of situated power already? Josh and Jessie took the initiative and prepared for what was coming, and everyone is grateful for that, but their world is our world now. Mrr. This is coming out wrong, never mind for right now. Anyway, the only reason I eventually gave in? Steve asked me to. Steve never demands anything. He only very rarely even asks for it. Thus, when he actually vocalizes a request? I tend to listen. "Baby," he said, very quietly, of course, just right in my ear so no one else could hear him. "Let it go. Just for now." And so I did. Later he explained that he was fairly sure certain members of our merry band were literally going to kill me if I kept "getting in the way" of things. I told him I was willing to die for my beliefs. He said he wasn't willing to have me die for my beliefs. Then we sort of cried/hugged for a little while. In conclusion, Steve is still one of the absolute greatest human beings.
Of course, now here we are, in different states, him off on a noble yet insanely dangerous quest, me back on the homefront sans my usual support group with a handful of folks who are under the (incorrect!)impression that violent rapists are just A-OK in my book. So I'm basically just chilling here, working on chainmail, making the usual patrols, and hoping no one decides to cut my throat in my sleep because they don't want to waste the bullet. Probably working my way a little to the paranoid/depressive side of things, but hey, maybe that means I'll just be pleasantly surprised when everything "continues to run smoothly," right? Right?
Sigh. I do exaggerate, I suppose. I guess I just worry that Josh has made this place sound like some Utopian Promised Land, that everything runs like a well-oiled machine, that we are the best and brightest humanity has to offer, so on and so forth. I don't want anybody coming here and winding up horribly disappointed. We're just people. We work hard, we slack off, we pay the price, we learn from our mistakes. We argue, and we struggle. Eventually, I hope, we forgive.
So if you're out there somewhere in the wide world reading this, and you've allied yourself with a group of not-so-nice individuals for your protection and survival, please know that there are other alternatives. What we have isn't perfect, but it is alive and dynamic and it WILL improve over time. Hey, actually, even if you don't want to join up with us, opening up dialogue with other groups would probably be a good thing. We don't want to get too closed-off and insular in our (re?)construction of society. And finally, if you're out there struggling for defensible survival with your own neo-tribal-type unit, take heart: if we can blunder through it, so can you!
Posted by Courtney at 2:45 PM
Steve: Ninja, Josh: Target
Ok, a short update here, because we just now got back to safety.
Steve and I got a good look at the walled-in area near the bus garage, and things didn't look too bad at first. We saw folks doing some planting, others working on building what looked like simple sleeping quarters, a few walking a patrol. Not too different from what we do back home.
But these folks are a little trigger-happy. Steve and I had discussed walking up to the gate and trying to start a dialog, but we got shot at when we started to climb down from the tree. I take responsibility for this; Steve was pretty ninja the whole trip. I think he could have gotten in unnoticed if he had wanted to, and I am really glad he didn't try.
We're on our way out of town, and will be headed for Carbondale this afternoon. Dave thinks we should try to gauge how bad the situation is before we get too far in, so that we can camp out somewhere relatively safe if we need to. It's a smart idea, really. I have no urge to get stuck in a hellhole with little to no sleep if I can help it.
As you can see, Courtney posted right before me. It's really hard to read these on an iPhone, but I got the gist. I will try to take off my rose-tinted glasses between rifle rounds and hungry, walking corpses.
Ok, a bit snarky, but her post makes me worry about what's going on at home, when I really should be concentrating on what's going on around me. My fault, not hers. Almost getting one of my best friends killed has put me in a negative mood.
Will update when I can.
Hoping we can somehow contact these people. Trying to figure out how.
Posted by Josh Guess at 4:54 PM
Friday, April 9, 2010
At the Gates
We're still not in Carbondale. We decided to tackle it fresh, after a good night's sleep, and it turns out that we were very lucky to make that choice. Treesong was able to get in touch with us via this blog, and has made the situation in this area clear. Warring camps, roving bands of armed men, and a group that seems frighteningly similar to the one back home that I was calling "looters" wreaking havoc. In light of this information, we have planned a few changes.
I have no desire to put children in any more danger than I can help. Jackie and her family will be staying at an undisclosed location we have found while the rest of us make the trip into town to try and get Treesong out. At this point I am inclined to get him and run, because most of the people he has holed up with have made the choice to abandon their location completely, due to its close proximity to some very violent and horrific scenes.
It's pretty much a worst case scenario. Tree is deep inside the city, in fact in the one spot I was really, really hoping he would not be. We have to somehow get to the SIU campus without being blown up or shot to death, get him out, and make it back to Jackie without being followed. The silver lining here is that Tree is pretty sure that none of the groups around here go too far outside the city, and probably won't follow us out.
It's tense right now, the stress we all normally live under ratcheted up tenfold. Jess is handing out some armored vests we got from the armory after it was cleared out. These things are rated for rifle fire. I hope we don't have to test it.
Dave is doing some more frightening things with explosives in preparation for this drive. We found a gas station that had some full tanks of propane, as well as a working fuel pump. We're topped off now, and he's strapping more pipe bombs to the tanks as I type this. This is in addition to a few other nasty surprises he thought up. It's so funny to me--while Dave has always been a creative person, this new world has really given him new license to combine his intelligence, practicality, and creativity in a lot of new ways. He's another one who has this crazy set of skills that serve to help us all.
It's time. Hopefully I will be posting to you again, but this is a far more dangerous place we're going to than any before. I just pray that Tree is ready to go when we get there.
Posted by Josh Guess at 7:06 AM
Saturday, April 10, 2010
ramble, ramble
I was watching an old episode of "Futurama" earlier, trying to veg and not think about all the people in the country (world?) that just didn't even have a chance to run or fight back. It's so unbelievably depressing, so of course I sought refuge in the awesomeness of cartoons. Fabulous use of energy and time, right? Yeah, I'm a real conservation and efficiency genius. It was the episode where Fry spends millions of dollars on the last tin of anchovies on the planet. I decided anchovies sounded awesome, and opened up a tin of them I found in the hotel. They were tasty, but they are way better on pizza or in a salad like from El Greco. I realize I have no idea how one even obtains live anchovies, much less how to make them salty and delicious. I don't know the specifics on pickles, either (Yes, I know they're cucumbers in salty water, but I think there might be a bit more to it than that), and olives are right out of the question for our midwestern climate. Is it even safe to fish? To hunt? What if some animals have been tainted in some way by whatever made the zombies? I still don't quite understand what happene
d to make all these people zombiefied. Treesong's comments about us calling them zombies to feel better about killing them hit me pretty hard; I've been contemplating the same thing myself. I mean, what if it's some kind of curable disease? Then all these poor people died when they could have been saved. I'm not saying we shouldn't fight back, we have to stay alive and keep each other safe; I guess I'm just remembering that the creatures we're calling zombies were humans like us not very long ago, and that they're victims, too. Perhaps even more so.
I can't seem to get to sleep tonight, and I probably won't. I've heard the phrase "worried sick" before, but tonight my stomach feels like it's twisting around, and it's making all these horrible squishy noises, so I think I'm finally catching on to the meaning of that particular saying. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that the oily, salty fishies I consumed didn't help all that much, either. No wonder no one else wanted them. I haven't heard back from Steve or Josh or anyone for quite some time. They're probably okay, but... Gah. It takes courage to go out and undertake daring missions, but at least for me, it's scarier waiting back at home. At least if you're on an adventure, you have all the adrenaline and excitement and close calls that make your heart just about stop right in the moment, but that you laugh about later, and turn into a story later on. "I got sick for stupid reasons and felt sad about a number of things" isn't really fireside tale material.
Living With the Dead: With Spring Comes the Fall (Book 1) Page 9