Living With the Dead: Year One

by Joshua Guess

  It might just be that he is very aware of his situation. No chance that we will be changing our minds anytime soon and taking him on a trip to Richmond, and unable to make a go of it on his own because of his injuries. Maybe he is just embracing his current circumstances and enjoying how things are for him at this time. He might choose to bring it up with us again down the road, when he feels we have more mutual trust. He might decide, once his bones have mended, to leave on his own two feet and try to get home. I guess only time will tell the truth of it.

  Still, it nags at me. I like the guy, and am starting to respect him. But there are still little things about him that throw me off.

  Posted by Josh Guess at 11:30 AM

  Saturday, August 28, 2010

  Lost For Words

  Today I was struck by a thought, and it made me realize the importance of stories. In this world where society has crumbled and the dead walk, sometimes they are all we have.

  I was looking through my large collection of books, trying to find something to read, when I came across a book I had completely forgotten about. It is 'The Gathering Storm' by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson. The importance of this novel is probably lost on those of you who aren't fans of epic fantasy, but I will explain.

  This book was to be the last in the Wheel of Time series. The original author (Jordan) passed away in 2007 before he could finish the massive conclusion. Many of us as fans were heartbroken and worried that the story, so long a part of our nightly escapes into another world, would remain unfinished. But our fears were allayed--Jordan wanted more than almost anything to have his opus completed, because he knew what it meant to all of us, and of course, what it meant to him. Brandon Sanderson was chosen to complete the final book, which would eventually be split into three. Guided by a partially written text and thousands of pages of notes, Mr. Sanderson eventually put out the volume that would be the first in a series of three final novels.

  I read it. I loved it.

  And slightly more than half a year later, zombies destroyed society.

  I hadn't thought about the Wheel of Time since the world started wearing apart at the seams, but as I stared at what would end up being the final book in the unfinished series, a sadness gripped me so deeply that I had trouble even looking away from the cover.

  It wasn't just that one book, you understand. It was as if that one tome was every unfinished story, every jagged sentence broken off by the end of all we know. All of the cliffhangers and plots never resolved burst into my brain...

  All those brilliant writers, whose talent with words made me laugh and cry, my heart slam against my chest and the pit of my stomach go cold--gone.

  I would love to believe that Brandon Sanderson is out there somewhere, picking out the last two books on an old typewriter, determined to finish the epic. I hope that Patrick Rothfuss is filling page after page with longhand by candlelight, perfecting and ending the beautiful novels that sing the song of Kvothe.

  But here and now, I realize the importance of our own stories. Not just those that tell our lives, but those we tell each other, truth and fiction alike, that say things we can't articulate any other way. Those tales create one narrative that simultaneously touches each person differently, yet draws all who read or hear it along for the same journey.

  We read and share stories because they are the best and most enduring way to explain the best and worst parts of us. Sometimes there is no difference between fiction and non-fiction for highlighting those aspects of our nature that give us hope and fuel our determination.

  Stories are entertainment, and education, inspiration and fear. They are mirrors of us and distortions all in one, but above all they are unique to who and what we are as human beings. Stories are creations of man, the only animal that lies, and thereby telling the deepest truths.

  Posted by Josh Guess at 9:17 AM

  Sunday, August 29, 2010

  Points

  The last few days have been quiet ones. No big attacks, no new and mysterious strangers bothering us. Just digging up a lot of potatoes, much planning and hoping that our wills can match our ambition. There are so many of us now, and in two parts of town, that we are doing more than we ever thought possible. But with those large efforts comes the risk of failure. Many of the people that live downtown in our fallback zone are farming there, and the rest are either working here or out at the farms we are trying to cultivate out in the country.

  Patrick seems to actually be having fun pushing Lt. Price around with him everywhere. Pat loves seeing the pleasant surprise on his face every time the younger guy sees something far beyond what he expected from a group of survivors with no real expertise in most things. I remember his shock when he realized the clinic had electricity all the time, and not from a generator. He still likes to make eyes at my wife, but that's ok. If seeing Jess will make him open up to us, it's a small price to pay.

  Evans says that he might be able to start standing soon. The break in his leg was painful, but not terrible, not a complex break. I am torn on this--him being healthy is good because it means he can throw in his weight in more significant ways (like giving some of that intense military training to our people), but increased mobility also means he becomes a bigger threat should his intentions prove sinister.

  I'll be honest, we are pretty hopeful that Will Price really wants to be here, to be one of us. Because he does know a great deal about combat, warfare, tactics, and many other tremendously useful areas we are somewhat lacking in. Or, at least always looking to learn more about...

  My brother and I are planning a big project, something that will be an enormous boon to our communities if we can get it done. We are hoping that Roger and Patrick will be up to the task, as it will require a lot of metalworking and welding. We are keeping what the idea is under wraps until a few last supplies can be located, though we are almost certain that we will find them.

  Before I go, a small note: It is possible bordering on likely that I will be taking some Sundays off from writing. There is a lot going on around here, and living relatively primitively means that doing the most mundane things takes longer. So a lot less free time, and I am making it a point that every sunday Jess and I will do something together. That will likely mean I will be too busy with her to write here. If so, and if that bothers you, then I apologize. But my wife is far better than this blog or taking my mind away from the walking dead beating at our walls.

  Posted by Josh Guess at 10:28 AM

  Monday, August 30, 2010

  The World That Used to Be

  Today is my two hundredth post on Living With the Dead, and it got me thinking about milestones.

  It was only months ago that we measured the bends and forks in the road of our lives in many ways. For some of us, it was finally buying that first new car. Getting your first home. Maybe it was paying off that last bit of credit card debt. Almost all of us used birthdays as markers for the progress of our lives. Pick a big event anywhere in your past, and I am sure you will see what I am talking about. Our achievements were many and varied, but we loved them.

  But I think back on those moments of victory, and I find that at least for me, they didn't define me.

  So much of what I once equated to success simply existed as an outgrowth of the necessities of modern life. Paying my bills on time every time never said much about me. Yeah, it said I was responsible, but that is what all people should be. Nothing about it made me special.

  So when I got on here today, lacking anything else to do at the moment (no zombie attacks and no work that needs urgent attention) I saw that this was to be post number 200, and it got me thinking.

  Milestones. Achievements.

  I ate some potatoes and (ugh) summer squash last night that Jess and I grew ourselves. I got a new belt buckle to replace a broken one, made for me by Roger, a man whose life I saved. I slept in my own house, armored and altered to survive the ceaseless waves of the undead in the early days of the downfall.

 
When I look around me, I see small victories everywhere. For all of us. Men, women and children who have passed through the crucible of violence and chaos the world has become. That we live here behind a wall built with our own hands, in homes that manage to contain the true warmth of humans living in peace with one another, is a testament to how fully we have been able to shed the baggage that weighed us down in the world that used to be.

  We have done a lot, but I want to leave you with an image that all at once moved me, scared me, and made me proud.

  I was walking over to the clinic about an hour ago, and I saw a bunch of kids playing. Black, white, and latino among them, every one of them totally oblivious to the differences others might perceive between them. They were mock swordfighting, a game we encourage since long blades are one of the best ways to defend yourself against zombies. One of the boys got a little too intense with one of the girls, and managed to whip her across the face with a thin length of birch.

  The girl, about nine, didn't cry. The boy stopped in horror when he realized what he had done, and just stood there. Then the girl punched him in the face hard enough to knock him over.

  Then she helped him up, and told him to be more careful.

  If I have to be proud of anything, it has to be that. That little girl maintained her calm in the face of unexpected pain, assessed the situation, and judged that her attacker needed a lesson, short and sweet. Helping him up showed that she wasn't going to hold a grudge, and that she took action herself showed remarkable independence.

  Can you see why I feel pride?

  While some of us might be unhappy at the need for our young to learn violence as a solution, circumstances for the foreseeable future require it. I don't like it much myself, but my heart was singing to see the reasonable reactions, self control and self reliance in the child. She figured out a solution without waiting for an adult, and showed by example that actions have consequences at least equal to themselves.

  That was a milestone for me. Maybe the most important one.

  Today I saw proof that those who come after us, the ones who will lead and run this place or the ones they leave here to build, might be better at it and more capable people than us.

  I couldn't be more satisfied right now. That's a feeling I will never forget.

  Posted by Josh Guess at 9:29 AM

  Tuesday, August 31, 2010

  The Consequence of Words

  Lieutenant Will Price, the wounded soldier we found in his crashed helicopter a few weeks ago, is in my back yard pulling up potatoes. He is having to lay down to do it because of his broken leg and arm, but he insisted.

  Will has been following Patrick around for a few days, and lives with him now. That also means that he has been spending a lot of time around Roger, who works with Patrick in designing and making things out of metal. Apparently, in the course of watching Pat and Roger work, Will absorbed a lot of details about the people here, and quite a bit about me.

  It didn't really occur to me that he would see my or anyone else's actions as anything spectacular. I mean, those of us that started the compound didn't do it because it was awesome or so we could eventually be looked at as something special. We did it because we wanted to live, and do so in the long term. And because there is more strength in numbers than any of us had ever thought.

  When Will began to hear how the compound came to be, some of the drastic steps we took early on, and how much long term planning has gone on, Pat says he started to feel bad. Not for us, you understand, but because he realized how much effort we have put in here, how much sacrifice, and he felt like he was mooching.

  Which he was. I mean, let's just call it like it is. Not that he could really help it, injured as he is.

  So he decided that anything he could do, he would. Which includes crawling around my back yard swearing loudly every time he has to move his broken limbs, which is almost constantly. He's harvesting because, in his words "If I am going to eat it, I should at least pick it."

  I appreciate his determination, though I worry that he will injure himself further. I might have to talk to Evans about this, see if he can do the doctor thing and scare Will into sitting on his ass.

  On a completely random and unrelated note, Patrick Rothfuss, one of my favorite authors and a person I mentioned in a blog a few days ago, is apparently alive. A few survivors in his neck of the woods read my blog that day and thought to go looking for him, and found him. Mr. Rothfuss is still writing his books, and living with his family in safety. I am glad to hear it, and I hope that one day I can read his finished works.

  One interesting consequence of that post is that many more survivors have come to this website because of it. Fans of his work apparently still keep tabs on his infrequent blog posts, and he mentioned the whole situation on his blog, here. Check it out, he's a pretty awesome guy.

  Lunch break's over. Time to look in on Pat and Roger, see if a few of the special parts I asked for are done...don't think I have forgotten about the secret project my brother and I are cooking up. Details soon.

  Posted by Josh Guess at 11:51 AM

  The Bitter Seasons

  September 2010 to February 2011

  Wednesday, September 1, 2010

  Engaging the Switch

  Posted by Josh Guess

  About three hundred zombies came at the walls today, the first big attack we've had in a while. The interesting part is that there were several smarties among them, and that they seem to have come from the direction of Louisville. We know they were smarties because they tried to climb the walls, which isn't behavior normal zombies ever exhibit.

  It wasn't too rough a fight, and our defenses held up well. But an attack of this size has made a lot of us see the wisdom in taking some of Will's suggestions to make the walls even more effective. One of those is adding points to them that stick out at right angles to the wall, basically like the points of a star. This would give us the ability to fire at the enemy from multiple angles at once instead of having to lean of the edge to hit the ones at the base of the wall.

  Jess pointed out to me last night after reading my post that some sort of mental switch has flicked in my brain, because I started calling Lieutenant Price by his first name. I guess seeing him on the ground outside my house digging for food, knowing that he wept openly when he learned of some of our tragedies...it made me see him more for the person he is than the threat he might be. He has been our guest here for what, two or three weeks now? And I have seen little to show me that he is planning anything dire. No soldiers have come, no attempts to communicate with his fellows in Richmond.

  When he found out this morning about Jack's large group of survivors in Michigan, he didn't ask anything about them. No numbers or locations, he was just surprised to hear that we have a supplier for machined lengths of wall and hopefully new technologies. He didn't even ask how we pay them for it.

  I really think that if he were planning something, he would be trying to learn some sort of details about our operations. But he isn't. At all. He's just following Pat around and getting to know people. I really hope that the way most of us are starting to feel-that he can be trusted-turns out to be true. Because he seems like a good man, someone that can fit in here. And we could certainly use his experience and knowledge, and hopefully one day he will help us connect (safely) with the rest of his unit in Richmond.

  I think he's trustworthy, am almost certain of it at this point. If he proves to be, he will be a great boon to our group. If he proves not to be, he will be killed. While we haven't told him much in the way of operational data, what he has absorbed about us through his everyday interactions would still give an attacker a powerful advantage.

  Off to find my brother. We are fine-tuning the details of our secret project, and hope to be able to tell everyone what it is tomorrow. Hopefully construction will begin in a few weeks, after we work out the kinks in some of the logistics with Jack and his folks up north.

  Until then, be safe.


  at 10:44 AM

  Thursday, September 2, 2010

  The Project

  Posted by Josh Guess

  OK, so anyone that lives in the compound or downtown in the fallback zone knows that we have a decent amount of power available. Between our solar arrays and a few wind turbines, we collect enough to run our lights and computers most of the time. Not enough for air conditioning, sadly, but we do alright. The main problem we have had is that while we have rigged together some large battery storage, it isn't nearly enough for what we would need if we managed to get power going full time.