by Joshua Guess
The bulk of the group stayed where they were, a common scene among smart zombies. A smaller unit of ten new breed came toward the walls. The head sentry on duty called for the others to hold their fire, wanting to see what the approaching zombies would do.
By the time the undead had made it to within three hundred feet of the wall, I was there. I watched them get closer, slowing as they moved. Clearly the zombies expected something, and it wasn't for us to just stand there watching them. They were being as cautious as it was possible to be when you're moving on open land toward an enemy fortification.
Then they hit the first trap.
A lot of work has been done to make New Haven as safe against swarms as possible. One of the strokes of brilliance we had a while back was trying to make weapons that use compressed air as a firing mechanism, since in a worst-case scenario we can hand-pump air if our compressor is offline or the power is out. I had no idea how many people had taken the concept and run with it until last night.
The first zombie to step on a trap hit a switch buried in the matted tall grass, releasing a valve that filled a tube, which pushed a spear of wood straight up from the earth to a height of six feet, impaling the zombie from its crotch and clean out through the side of its neck. Damn thing tilted its head at the last second. But the spring-loaded barbs, a very simple design, popped out after the tip of the spear exploded from flesh and expanded, securing the length of wood in place and keeping the zombie from moving.
I could almost swear the other undead gave each other looks at that point, as if to say, "Fuck this noise. We're out!". But they moved forward anyway.
Other traps of similar design were sprung, as well as one of them falling into a well-disguised pit. By the time the remaining three of them got within a hundred feet, the zombies were clearly wary. Their dysfunctional brains, less astute than a living person's but far brighter than that of your average walking corpse, had picked up on the fact that getting anywhere near our wall had cost them the majority of their numbers. And that was just the hidden traps, the ones lurking out of view inside the earth. There were others, more obvious and avoidable, designed to slow down attacking zombies or damage them if they were pushed against them by the crush of a swarm.
When they crossed that imaginary hundred foot line, the lead sentry gave a hand signal.
With a hiss like some giant, angry cat, three air cannons let loose at one time. Each cannon aimed at one zombie, and the load of gravel and shrapnel that spread out had enough force behind it to travel that distance and still rip the undead to shreds instantly. It was like watching people explode but without all the pretty flames.
Those cannons are insanely powerful. And our wall is covered in them. I'm starting to feel a bit better about our chances should the Indiana swarm make their way here. I haven't even touched on a lot of the other stuff, but I can't give away too much about what keeps us safe. We have enemies, after all.
At any rate, I thought I'd share that. We've had a hard time lately and things are still gloomy at home. I felt uplifted by the show of defenses, not only for the safety they bring us but also because they represent the creativity and power of the human mind operating under terrible circumstances. And that's enough to make me smile.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Terrible Two
Posted by Josh Guess
I try my best not to focus on the time that's passed, but no matter how much effort we mere humans put into it, we can't help but notice the turning of the seasons. I realized this morning as I walked through the greenhouses Jess supervises that we're just days away from ending our second full year living after the end of the world.
Some of you might be thinking in biblical terms, such as the rapture and those left behind. Some are probably considering all the apocalyptic fiction that you've encountered and how the reality differs. Maybe you're reflecting on how wrong the Mayan calendar was, since the world ground to a screeching halt far in advance of the advertised date in December of this year. I'd wager a few out there are even thinking about how hard the future will be, based on experiences so far.
Me, I'm thinking about radishes.
I've said before that our goal should be to look at the world and our place in it with a large degree of comparison. We have to consider how far we've come, and how far we've yet to go. To measure our achievements, survival chief among them, rather than days gone by. As I walked through the greenhouses with Jess, I realized that I hate radishes, and that there was enough food being grown that I wouldn't have to eat them. My wife's hard work in designing and managing the sprouts destined to be crops this year means that New Haven will be fed with a variety of foodstuffs in such quantities that we'll have choices in our meals.
For someone two years ago who had a hard time picking between two different kinds of frozen lasagna at the supermarket, this probably wouldn't seem world-changing. For me, now, having been hungry in ways that can only be described as third-world, it's close in accomplishment to the discovery of the DNA molecule or harnessing the power of the atom.
Okay, I'm probably being hyperbolic here, but you have to understand that I fucking hate radishes.
Granted, we've got enough troubles to write a century's worth of blues songs. The weather today is already warm and probably headed for balmy heights, which means more probing attacks by zombies. The Exiles aren't going anywhere and my crystal ball tells me they aren't going to give us a pass for dropping half their buddies into a river valley, so that's a comforting thought to carry around.
But dammit, we won't starve through it. With all the worries my people and I have, food hopefully isn't going to be one of them this year. Jess has truly taken ideas and made them her own. Some things she's growing aren't all that tasty, but we can easily grow in bulk--such as clover. Boil it, and it's not so tough to digest. The stuff grows just about anywhere, is relatively nutritious, and at present hundreds of millions of seeds are being spread everywhere we can drive. That, in addition to the clover seeds we spread last year, will give us a huge supply to draw on.
A stable food supply is just one example of the progress made here, and much of that has been achieved while I was away. I learned even more about the defenses after yesterday's post, and I'm now certain that any group of zombies is going to have a tough time getting inside the walls, regardless of numbers. There would have to be thousands for me to seriously worry. I'm gonna knock on wood, of course, because it's not as though we haven't fought that many at New Haven before.
There are plenty of reasons for us to get depressed and give in to worry. That's just honest fact. We could focus on the challenges ahead in a negative way, worry endlessly about the ever-present threat of zombies sneaking up and swarming us suddenly, too fast for the defenses to matter. We will certainly sweat as the Exiles rebuild their strength and call in new allies if they can manage it. Those things and the hundred tiny difficulties that come with daily life can weigh us down.
I'm not trying to sing a happy song and ignore all that. I'm not saying there won't be times when the hurt and worry will drive us to bed, shaking with the overwhelming stress of it all. Surely we'll have moments of weakness.
What I am saying is that we've survived more times and in more dire situations than your average group of settlers heading for the west two centuries ago. We've persevered, and even gone beyond mere survival or maintaining the status quo. We've done a lot of good for ourselves and others, created a complex trade system that will be instrumental in strengthening ties to other communities and rebuilding a larger society.
I'm just saying that when we're tending out wounded from the next unexpected zombie attack or fending off the advances of the Exiles or even just bitching about how hard everyday life is, we should remember that.
The funny thing about the future is there's always more of it to be encountered. Or defeated, conquered, or just plain won. It's going to be a rough journey, but remembering our victories is the best defense our hearts can mount a
gainst the many small defeats that will surely come.
So keep your chins up. No matter how long it takes, be it another two terrible years or twenty, we'll get there.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Up On High
Posted by Josh Guess
We've still got people watching the fallback point on a continual rotation even though it's tough to spare the extra people at the moment. We're feeling the recent losses in emotional damage and in more concrete terms as those of us still walking the world of the living struggle to prepare for the planting season.
Not just that, but we've got loads of other things to work on, one of the most important being resuming trade. Now that there are no easy ways across the river nearby, we and our allies feel it's safe to begin trading along alternate routes. That's a big part of why we're still mounting a full scout team at all times to keep an eye on the exiles. That's going to be harder to manage when the weather gets permanently warm but we'll find a way.
As it is, the psychotic force of mother nature has given us another cold snap intense enough to drive off the zombies. It's a blessing and a curse, since the unpredictable rise and fall of temperatures is hard on us and our plans for the growing season. One night we're fine without fires, the next it's so frigid we have to spend half the night stoking our fires back up.
But hey, it keeps the undead away, and that's worth it.
We've decided to set up permanent watch stations on the various cliffs overlooking the fallback point. The fallback point itself is nestled on the flood plain of the Kentucky river, while our side of the divide has the high, sheer cliffs that define the river valley. given how much of this state is relatively easy to farm and not pocked with land prone to heavy flooding and huge shelves of rock tumbling off cliff faces, I fail to understand how the founders of Frankfort said, "Yep. This place will do. Let's build our town right on this flat bit that fills with water and hope we don't get smashed to death by boulders."
Still, it's advantageous for us. We were concerned about putting up any structures on the hills or cliffs overlooking the Exiles' new home. They lost a lot of equipment in the fight with us, but they still have a lot of dangerous long-range weaponry that makes any obvious buildings risky.
Our idea was to move in some simple prefabricated structures my brother came up with, basically just wooden boxes that collapse on hinges when the support pins are pulled. The fronts portions are armored in a very creative way that I'm told I can't share.
Dave had several of the boxes built and we hauled them into place. None of them have sustained any attacks from the Exiles. It looks like the enemy is abiding by the simple terms we gave them, at least for now. The only activity that's been reported inside the fallback point in the last few days is safe stuff, the Exiles working on getting their agricultural sections ready for planting.
It should bother me more that the Exiles really seem to be making their home here. Don't misunderstand, I'm not happy that people who have committed such atrocious acts are squatting on what is our land by rights. I'm not thrilled that they're not leaving, or that they're probably plotting some long-term moves against us.
But it should bug me more. I understand why I feel less upset than I should, but I'm saving that for tomorrow. After tomorrow's post, I may have to take a few days off to tend to many of the responsibilities I've shirked while we've been working on so many other things. A few days to focus on other things and get our house in order. I know you’ll forgive me, or at least I hope you will.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Sail
Posted by Josh Guess
We live in profoundly strange times. Sometimes the weirdness of the world as it is now can become a part of the background so that we forget the moments in time, the events both good and bad, that shape the present we live in.
I said yesterday that I'd explain why I'm not as upset about the Exiles being able to freely thrive despite the horrible things they've done. As it's another dangerously cold morning and the zombie swarms are quiet, I'm going to take a good deal of time to write this post. I think it's important to give perspective and to explain how a viewpoint can change so much over time. Or rather, how a viewpoint can change with the times.
I've been turning this over in my head for the last day. I've been struggling to put in words the concept that sometimes you just have to let things be. And how you have to do that even for acts that are so contrary to civilized society that it makes you taste blood at the idea of not handing out justice.
A few thoughts. Not perfect comparisons by any means, but I think I've managed to get close enough to make my point. That being said:
When explorers many centuries ago traveled across the oceans, they lost people. Colonists and pilgrims, conquistadors and mapmakers, all of them faced the same sets of odds. Each of them knew when they left home that they'd have to beat some heavy odds in order to make a new life or a fresh discovery. Most of them chose to make those trips.
We didn't have a choice.
But like any settlers,we've moved into a world entirely different from the comfortable one we grew up in. We've done awful things to survive. Almost all of us have had to kill living people as well as the undead. We've done so without mercy when needed. Think about that for a minute. I know most of you have given it some reflection, and I obviously have over the last two years on this blog, many times.
Think hard. Could you have seen yourself burning alive a rapist or shooting an attacker in the heart two years ago? Not as an abstract, I mean. Not in your stray thoughts. I mean in the harshest, most realistic terms. Was there ever a point in your life that you imagined the things we have to do on a regular basis would even be possible for you? I know I didn't.
Now that you're in that frame of mind, another question: could you have imagined a circumstance,any circumstance, in which you'd allow a murdering rapist who ravaged the lives of peaceful human beings to get away with it?
I've said a lot about the standards by which we live on this blog. I've said that some actions, some behaviors, can't be ignored. That a response must come no matter what the cost. As much as it pains me to admit it, as dirty as it makes me feel, I was wrong. A part of me wants to believe that the Exiles are redeemable. I want very badly to hold on to some shred of possibility that our enemy, those very same murdering rapists, could come to a moment of enlightenment. That guilt could drive them to submit to justice by others if for no other reason to attain some kind of atonement.
I don't believe that, which makes the whole thing so much worse.
If the Exiles choose to make a go of building a home of their own in a truly long-term way without going back to the awful deeds that made them infamous, I can live with that. I can go on about my business for the rest of my life knowing they might never pay for all the lives they've ruined. I can suppress the rage and sense of injustice it springs from...pretty much forever.
I can do that because much like those intrepid people who left the old world for the new, I recognize that some fights aren't worth the cost. Should I push my people toward more warfare, surely to be destructive to us, possibly fatal to our community, simply to quiet the rage inside me? Should we as a community be allowed to let that rage, felt in every heart among us, to overcome our sense of self-preservation and build into an urge to destroy that can't be stopped no matter how badly we'll damage ourselves?
I know what some of you out there are thinking. I've made the arguments myself many times. People like the Exiles aren't deserving of the first grain of consideration. For the safety of everyone else, they must be eliminated.
I still think that, but the larger problem is that my own people are deserving of consideration. We've been beaten stupid more times than I can count. We've been hurt in so many ways you could write a definitive work on the subject of human suffering with our stories. All we've ever wanted to do is live our lives without more fear of the future than absolutely necessary. The Exiles have done so many horrific
things, but for now they're keeping to the truce. They aren't hurting anyone right now, and it would be profoundly stupid for us to pursue a war with no possible good outcome when we don't have to.
On a personal level, I'm tired. Not in a world-weary suicidal way. I've stood and fought many times in defense of my life, those of my friends, my home, my principles. I'm not eager to do it again unless I absolutely have to. The last two years have been insane in many ways and on a dozen different levels, and I'd give anything for some peace and time to grow.
Even, as it turns out, my conscience. I'll never forget the things the Exiles have done, to us and to the victims they've preyed upon over the last twenty-four months. But like the oceangoing colonists before me, I can witness the horrors, be aware of them, and recognize the reality that trying to make amends just isn't compatible with surviving.
Nothing is static. Human beings are, at their best, incredibly dynamic creatures. We evolve constantly, (in the case of the zombies themselves, in a literal sense) shaping our views in the now based on our experiences. Holding to a set of moral standards, like not suffering people like the Exiles to live, is a very pretty and noble attitude to have.