American Recovery

by Joshua Guess

  I'm not really griping, just sort of dealing with the new reality. That's the one where I'm kept safe here while others go out and do the fighting for me. That rankles. It makes my teeth hurt. This morning the defenses in East were tested again by a relatively large group of zombies, about a hundred and fifty. The bells went off and I was already grabbing my bow when Jess--before she left--reminded me that I'm not on call today. She also pointed out that there were enough defenders inside the walls of East and fighters coming from the direction of the hospital, which is only a few hundred yards away, to crush that many undead like a walnut on an anvil.

  So I settled back in and kissed her goodbye and sat down to try to think of something to write about. I mean, there shouldn't be any shortage of topics. There are Exiles out there, and the mysterious group of survivors systematically destroying smaller settlements. The hospital work is vital to our plans, and some new ideas on how to deal with our crowded population are interesting.

  But there's no news on most of those fronts. I'm honestly cut off from updates today because so many people are out of New Haven. I'm bored. Which is a condition so maddening to me that I'm considering taking up knitting just to have something to do.

  Terrible as it sounds, tomorrow is bound to bring something interesting. Or, at least the resumption of some news flow that will allow me to focus on something that isn't me. Hoping it won't be anything really bad.

  I think I'll try to sleep this weird malaise off. Being alone and without stimulation isn't doing great things for my state of mind, and every word I type just makes it worse.

  Thursday, October 11, 2012

  Totally Wizard

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I'm going to bag on Lord of the Flies for a minute, because it fits the point of this post and because I really, really fucking hate that book.

  I make it a point to reread it every few years if for no reason other than to remind myself just how much I truly detest the story. I know a lot of people mark it as a seminal work, a dark and brilliant glimpse into what people--even children--can become when the usual rules and structures of society get tossed. I'm not knocking the skill in the writing. I think it's well done, much better than anything I'm capable of, and the concept is interesting and thought-provoking.

  I don't like it because it depicts a humanity I don't want to believe in: selfish, angry, power-hungry cliques bullying the weak into positions of total submission. In real terms, the effect of my distaste for the reaction the characters have in the story manifested in the deep and powerful urge to climb inside the pages and murder the shit out of a bunch of children.

  I'd never felt such a visceral to a work of fiction before reading that book. I didn't like having that feeling. It took me a second reading to realize the genesis of my dislike, but there you go.

  And here I am kind of feeling like a smug asshole because the world actually did fall to pieces and the majority of people haven't turned into murderous control freaks. I mean, sure, some of them did, and you could argue that because most survivors are adults that we learned impulse control better than the kids in Golding's book.

  I know, I know, I'm leaving out tons of allegory and subtext. I know the book is amazing and agree that it deserves all the credit it has received over the years. I'm just feeling a bit justified in my reaction to it because I see a world laid bare to the bone around me and instead of human beings descended into savagery to gnaw away at the dying flesh, there are instead caregivers and protectors, builders and makers of all kinds.

  We leave the gnawing to the undead.

  We aren't perfect, I know that. People are going to be people no matter what you throw at them. But I'm genuinely shocked at how well most survivors work together to accomplish good things. It warms my heart, which is something we need this morning as the temperature hit freezing and just keeps dropping.

  When I think about the images in my mind from Golding's book--young boys merciless as any adults and devolving into primitives--with the mundane but useful work being done outside my house today, I can't help but see the immense gulf between what Golding thought we would become in such a situation and what really came to be.

  We aren't dancing in front of fires and imagining a beast to unify us. The zombies outside as well as our human enemies are more than enough threat to deal with. We aren't barely getting by and committing violence against each other to assert dominance.

  Hell, the people outside my house are working on expanding out living spaces to reduce some of the cramped conditions. They're taking measurements and talking about keeping some of the more convenient walkways open so no one has to take the long way round. That's boring. And unquestionably civilized. It's easy to forget nowadays how subtle but unstoppable a descent into savagery would have been. We overcame. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of how huge an accomplishment that is, totally on its own merit.

  So consider yourselves reminded.

  Friday, October 12, 2012

  Island In The Cold

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I helped out yesterday, just a little thing. Being wrapped up in my own crap over the last six weeks has made me seem--accurately, I admit--like a selfish dick. I kind of lost track of a lot of stuff, and the largest omission by far was the small isolation area we set up for the Louisville survivors.

  It got cold yesterday, as I mentioned in my post. Not long after I wrote it the isolated folks sent up a flag on the pole we set up for them, letting us know they needed something. Many of the people there have recovered as much as they're going to, but whatever hit them wasn't as nice and clean as the new plague was here. Most are dealing with long-term health problems as a result. Heavy labor isn't something easily done when you're barely able to walk without feeling like your chest is being squeezed in a vice.

  Not that the Louisville crew don't plan to earn their keep now that the quarantine period is over. We're giving it another two weeks before we risk any direct interactions between us, but when our people answered the flag, yelling from a distance, the de facto leader of the group there asked for something to do. Work that could help pay us back. Jess suggested armor-making, mostly simple stuff like chain maille or sewing prefab plastic plates into coats.

  I went out with our group to help supply the Louisville folks with some firewood. They do still have a few people that are very badly ill, again long-term results of their earlier illness, and can't tolerate big shifts in temperature. They went through the load of wood we left for them on the last dropoff day faster than they expected.

  While I was out I also got to talk to a few of our people that had voluntarily submitted to isolation after coming into contact with the Louisville crew (by choice or otherwise), and it was...educational. The folks who live with the Louisville folks are still being cautious about coming too close to New Haven citizens, and they've been living in basically the same conditions we have. Maybe not as lush (haha) as New Haven itself, but not bad.

  What really caught me off guard was seeing some of the folks who've been living in the countryside away from everyone else. They're looking rough at the very best. Dealing with finding places to sleep that are safe from zombie attacks, defending themselves when that doesn't work out, hunting food, and other tasks has taken a toll. We forget, inside the relative comfort of New Haven's walls and our own homes, that there are much worse ways to live. I can't imagine the stress of having to move around day to day, perpetually sleeping in strange places and always uncomfortable from hunger, inability to launder clothing, and the like. It must be fucking awful.

  Yet for all the wild-eyed expressions I saw in that group, they looked happy enough. They suffered through the discomfort of not having the small luxuries that matter so much to us, but they didn't have the drama and complications that come from large communities, either. In the world they've inhabited there is only survival and safety, plus the occasional job from the leadership here. There's something to be said for avoiding the problems that arise fr
om gathering more than a few handfuls of people in one place.

  I want to once again give my sincere thanks to each of those folks. Those who chose to be isolated because they wanted to help the Louisville crew, and those who had it forced upon them because they were just doing their duty. Especially the second group; they could have reacted very badly to being exposed to the sickness. Rage and revenge wouldn't have been unreasonable reactions at all, yet those people responded with grace and reason. You can't ask for much more than that.

  We appreciate your sacrifice, all of you. Even if guys like me with a platform like this forget about you. That's my fault entirely, and for that I owe you all an apology and a beer. Both are waiting for you at any time, day or night.

  Sunday, October 14, 2012

  The Floodgates

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Normally I wouldn't mention anything on here about when we're going to be doing delicate things. We have enemies, we aren't stupid. We know there are Exiles and others out there looking for an opening. It's not a good idea to broadcast our intentions and give times and dates. That's a good way to invite attack.

  But this time, I've been given the freedom to do so in an effort to appeal to the better angels of their natures.

  In the next few days we will begin the largest influx of people so far. This wave will be huge, and the first ones to come will be on a tight schedule once they get here. They've got to help prepare the way for the next group, and the ones after them. It's not going to be a situation where all of them can arrive in one big clump. Many groups of moderate size will come in over a period of days.

  We don't want any trouble. Though we'll be staffed to the gills with people, we won't be sending them off to hunt down any Exiles or to assault the Hunters, which is what we're calling the secretive group destroying small communities. We just want these folks to arrive safe and well, period.

  I realize how unlikely my words are to have any effect on those of you who might be planning to attack. It's a silly hope to have, I know. And the blunt truth is that I wouldn't be making this appeal if there were a chance you wouldn't see these folks coming. A thousand people are hard to hide.

  So I'm left with the option of saying nothing and maybe letting you get the idea that there might be less of them than actually are travelling, and that they'll be easy marks. There really will be that many. If attacked they will fight back without mercy or restraint. In fact, the trip here started yesterday for many of them, and even a relatively small group of two hundred are terrifyingly good at protecting themselves. They encountered a zombie herd on the road, migrating to the southeast to avoid the coming frosts, that outnumbered them two-to-one at the least.

  They took only minor injuries. No zombies walked away.

  So if you want to attack, we can't stop your bad judgment. You might field enough people to win, even. But you won't walk away without knowing you've been in a fight. I hear several women in the first group are sharpshooters and were given orders to shoot living enemies in the genitals.

  So, you know. Go nuts. Get it? I kill me.

  The buzz around here is awesome. We can't wait to meet our newest citizens, and all we want is for them to get here safely. Maybe down the road we'll organize against the Exiles or the Hunters if they keep up the way they are, but it's much more likely that the near future will be full of the fun times that come with hunting for food and finding enough room for everyone to sleep. It's not like we've got infinite resources here, people. I'm tired of you assholes out there thinking New Haven can just do anything we want at any time.

  Believe me, if we could muster the people and supplies to send a dedicated force out, big and well-armed enough to smash both groups to bits, I'd be the first one to cheer that on. Maybe not the first to volunteer, since I still feel averse to violence if I'm not angry, but I'd go if asked.

  We can't. And adding on a thousand people isn't going to make that easier, trust me. Today for breakfast I had an egg. Singular.

  So leave it be. Pick your battles elsewhere and/or later. Don't risk losing a fight or a good chunk of your people. No one wants to deal with the repercussions, right? Just chill and stay home. We're going to be drowning in new faces soon, and I'd like to see them stay whole.

  Monday, October 15, 2012

  Dark

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I woke up about two hours ago. I don't have the words to describe the terror I felt. It was dark, utterly and without relief. Mindless panic rose up in me. I'd been having a dream, and the most frightening part of it was that it should have been a nightmare.

  I was standing in front of people. Endless numbers of them stretching as far as the eye could see. They were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs. Calm, relaxed, eyes empty of hope. I moved from one to the next, firing a single round into each of their foreheads like a man operating the killing chute at a slaughterhouse.

  In the dream I knew without doubt that they needed killing. I woke up with the image of blood and bodies around me, the lingering sense of vague satisfaction staying with me as my eyes flew open in the unrelieved blackness.

  Awake, I have learned the ability to maintain calm and deal with my demons. My conscious mind has healed enough that the panic stays away. I'm functional approaching truly stable. Chalk it up to worry about the incoming settlers ratcheting up my stress levels, but my subconscious is treating me to a morality lesson.

  It's probably a good thing I'm up so early. Today is going to be busy for everyone. I had planned to wake a bit before my normal time anyway to be able to post something. This is the best I have, however. I'm too shaken to safely focus on anything else without worrying about spilling some security detail I'm not supposed to share.

  No matter how grown up we become, it seems we never quite eradicate our fear of the dark.

  Tuesday, October 16, 2012

  Told You So

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Our first batch of new arrivals made it in yesterday despite my bad feelings about it, which goes to show you that I'm not the Slayer in that I don't have dark precognitive dreams of tragedy and mayhem. Also, I don't have that weird slightly winky eye that Sarah Michelle Gellar managed to get away with by being awesome.

  The first group is actually not going to be staying at the hospital. It's not that the place isn't ready yet (though it could use a bit more work) but rather because we've managed to overcome one of our space problems with some interesting and creative use of materials. I'll tackle that tomorrow.

  Today I want to send out my condolences to any Exiles or Hunters who lost people yesterday. I tried to warn you that attacking the caravans would be a bad idea. I don't want to see anyone die needlessly, even if it is a result of your own stupid, greedy hearts. Or maybe vengeful hearts, whatever tickles your taco. The point is that I did my level best to nudge you away by appealing to your logic.

  I bet when you moved in to attack, whoever you are, that you were caught off guard by what hit you. It's hard to see rifle barrels when they're carefully hidden between people and tucked away in every space available. They saw you coming from a distance and by the time the caravan stopped due to your attack, they already had a bead on you.

  Granted, we knew that sending smaller groups might invite attack, but we figured it would be worth the risk to keep you from killing too many at one go if you did make the wrong call. To that end we asked North Jackson to send some of their military boys and girls along on the trip. Sharpshooters, all. Based on what I've been told, nearly two dozen of your people went down with bullets in their chests or heads in a couple seconds. Apparently that was pretty demoralizing, because you broke and retreated on a dime.

  I guess the point I'm getting to here is that you were warned. Now you know we're serious and chances are good I've got your attention. So let's be crystal: you won't get more of the same next time. It'll be worse. We have a lot of mean little tricks to play, strategies and tactics that will make a bullet to the skull seem
like a pleasant afternoon by comparison. I again ask you to sit back and think for a minute, because we didn't have to let you run away. Let that be a warning to any other groups who might be thinking our folks are easy pickings.

  They aren't. You might win, as I've said before, but you won't walk away without some interesting new scars.

  To allay the concerns of a few people out there, I'd like to mention that I've been laying on my own fear a little thick lately. I am genuinely worried, don't get me wrong, but some of what you've been reading here has been...well, we'll say good theater. None of us want a fight, and I still got blue when I heard we had to kill all those people.

  Just not as bad as I've led you to believe.

  I'm due for a half shift on the wall in about half an hour, and I need to get some breakfast. I don't relish the idea of fighting zombies much more than I do fighting people, but I'll do it if I have to. Not half-assed, either. I've been allowed some freedom to do things like this within New Haven--a concession I fought to get--and it's nice to get outside and feel useful. The fact that I'm giving some lucky guard or sentry the chance to sleep in is icing on the cake.

  I expect I'll have to kill before the morning is through. The New Breed are getting friskier as the temperature drops. They're hungry and need to build up reserves to keep them from starving during the winter. Seems they need a bit more sustenance than old school zombies. It'll turn my stomach to do it, but I'll follow my orders without a second of hesitation.

  Should the situation come up, I'd do the same to the people attacking the caravans, communities, and the like. Not with gusto, but efficiently. I should point out to those of you in the Exile or Hunter communities who're on the fence that the rest of my fellow citizens might not be so nice about it. I'm damaged goods that will kill you quickly and without much pain. If you were wounded on the battlefield I'd put you out of your misery.

  The rest of New Haven's people, including the settlers that aren't even here yet, wouldn't. They're more angry than they are compassionate toward you. In my book, killing you swiftly is playing nice. They will play dirty. Be sure of that.