Living With the Dead: The Bitter Seasons

by Joshua Guess

  They let the undead get very close, bunched up...and tangled. Soaked and grouped together, they didn't stand a chance when Will signaled for the switch to be thrown. At least half of the attacking swarm died as once, convulsing violently as nearly the entire power capacity of Jack's compound crackled through them.

  I might be making this a little more descriptive than it was given to me. Author's privilege. My imagination took the information I was sent and built this amazing picture, and that's how I have to share it.

  Those zombies that didn't die from the raw power popping them like so much corn were so incapacitated that archers and air guns easily cleaned them up. What's really amazing is that the swarm kept coming, the ones in the rear of the groups unaware of the nature of the threat and pushing their fellows ahead. The great thing about electricity is that it isn't picky about what part of the body it touches...

  Long story short, almost every zombie on the field this morning is now just another log to throw on the pyres. Those that didn't die by voltage were snapped off by the defenders, on the wall and those who began to lead strikes out into the thinning field.

  It looks like they've won, and you can't ask for more than that. We will aid Jack's people in procuring more ammo and other needed supplies now that doing so won't be fatal almost to a certainty, and then our folks will come home.

  Oh, and as of right now, it's ten degrees cooler at Jack's than it was at this time yesterday. Looks like a good break ahead for them. Time enough to resupply and dig in for the winter, and to mourn the dead.

  At our compound, every one of us will raise a glass to the brave men and women who fought and died there, to defend their small pocket of life and love once again. Our hearts are with every one of you who lost and hurt over this difficult time, and our pride for your spirit and determination knows no bounds. You are a testament to the wondrous variety present in the human race--you fight, you teach, you build and redesign. Many of you have learned new skills when the need came, and perfected them in short order. When my friends had some ideas, you ran with them and made basic sketches on scraps of paper in functional, devastatingly effective machines in no time flat.

  All the credit and honor belong to you.

  We're proud to call you all friends.

  at 12:11 PM

  Saturday, October 16, 2010

  Winding Down

  Posted by Josh Guess

  The weather has taken a turn for the worse. Well, I guess that's a matter of perspective. It was cold enough to frost today, both here and up north at the compound in Michigan, which is great for us and bad for zombies. Our guards haven't seen a single one from the compound's walls today.

  Still a lot of chaos going on up north. The huge slaughter of zombies there along with all the shrapnel and destruction requires a huge amount of cleanup. There were some explosions quite close to the wall that caused damage that has to be fixed, and the leadership there has been busy down in the trenches working with everyone else. That being said, things there are going well now that the worst of the fighting seems to be over.

  There remains the question of where the helicopters that strafed the assembled zombies the other day at Jack's came from. So far we haven't heard anything from any other survivors about where those choppers might have come from. No one has any clue. I highly doubt that they came from Richmond, which is the only military outpost that I know of with personnel still living at it. Too far away, and anyway Will says that they only had two functional helicopters left by the time he and his crew set out for Frankfort, and both of them were Blackhawks. Add to that a lack of fuel for them, and it seems that we have a mystery on our hands.

  But it's one that will have to wait for another day. Too much to do, and no time right now to investigate what is essentially a minor curiosity compared to other problems.

  Patrick and his team of salvage volunteers are anxious to get back to the factory where all the equipment is loaded up to be brought here for the construction of our power plant. He wants to get as much of it here as possible before the snow starts coming in, secure the turbines and flywheel modules. I have looked over the one flywheel that came in with their first run, and I have my doubts about whether or not we can make the things work as intended. These things are sensitive and complicated, and frankly I only have faint clues how it all goes together. Jack might be able to spare a person to help us with the plant, since his folks have specialties in things like this, but the technology we're trying to work with was still pretty new and untested, so we are trying to think up backups to the flywheels as a method of grid-level storage of energy...

  I digress. Pat and his team are staying here until our people come back from Michigan. We are going to hold a leadership vote when we get all our folks assembled, and that's not negotiable. We've been fragmented and arguing for far too long. And that's with external threats to unite us, hardships to prepare for as a community. I can't imagine how bad it could get with little to do during the winter as the zombies slow down and stop from the harsh weather. We need centralized leadership, a voice and vision to guide us. Someone to blame. That certainly brings people together.

  Ha.

  I kid, I kid. At any rate, we're all looking forward to having all our people home again. There are many places we are planning to go in the near future, new survivors to meet and some old friends that we have yet to sit face to face with that might come and join us. Once we have decided on a structure of leadership and those who will fill it, I and the council think that we will have stable enough foundations to truly begin to move forward as a community.

  After the vote, of course, people will go out again. Pat and his people will begin moving loads from the factory in earnest, our small group of diplomats will take trips to try and build relations with other survivors, and of course trade with the north will resume.

  And I will continue to pass it all on to you, so that every person who finds this blog in the here and now becomes aware that somewhere in th ruins of America, people are trying to keep the candles lit on the hope for a better tomorrow.

  But I also write for that very future, so that those who will hopefully come after will perhaps garner a better understanding of what we've done for them, and had to do for ourselves. My hope is that they can forgive us our mistakes and the brutal decisions we've had to make. And that by making them, our progeny realize that we had to make them so that they were spared the need.

  I'm off tomorrow, but back on Monday, as always. Be safe. Defend yourselves. Protect others. Hope for everyone.

  at 2:03 PM

  Monday, October 18, 2010

  The Hills Are Alive

  Posted by Josh Guess

  A bit of happy news for once, so I am going to forgo updates on the cleanup and whatnot.

  My brother has been working on something fun, and he's been sort of secretive about it. Yesterday morning he showed the rest of us what it was, and we had a good time.

  For about two weeks he's had a tarp thrown up over a small section of the empty lot next to what used to be my mom's house and is now our clinic. He's been hammering and sawing wood in his free hours in there, but wouldn't tell anyone what he was up to. Of course, the rest of us weren't going to cheat and look in there. We get precious little entertainment, and guessing what he's been up to has been a minor passtime for most of us.

  So yesterday he just takes the tarp down early in the morning. Not very many people were out and about, and the few that were active were mostly guards and had more important things to worry about.

  I woke up to beautiful music.

  Dave built a little theater, open to the air. It's about twenty feet across and maybe fifteen deep, all stage covered by a slanted roof. The roof is covered in solar panels, and he rigged up an array of batteries for storage. He built speaker cabinets into the thing, and after he got it all set up yesterday, he plugged in his electric acoustic and began to play.

  At first it was just random bits and pieces of songs. People
all over woke up to the softly echoing notes, many of us throwing on boots over our pajamas and walking over to see what was going on.

  By the time I got there, a few people had joined in. Roger was there, singing in a strong and steady voice. A man whose name I don't know played the harmonica. Two sisters began a clapping rhythm to go with the song.

  The rest of the compound woke up to this spontaneous rendition of amazing grace.

  I left religion behind me a long time ago. I am spiritual and I do believe in a higher power, a creative force that we cannot begin to understand. I think that the message gets muddled because of our faults, that men who build institutions of faith build the flaws of men into them. But yesterday, I felt something much like I once did in church. The song moved me, to be sure, but more so was the power of the moment. So many of us brought together by those tender vibrations, singing the same words and laughing together at our varied abilities to carry tunes and find notes.

  The truly wonderful part of it was watching it grow and change. Other folks came on stage to sing or dance, play an instrument or simply drum on a bucket. It went on all day. It was awesome.

  I didn't know until this weekend just how much we needed fun. We've been so laser focused on surviving and meeting the needs for our near future that we've ignored the things that bring us joy. Music is like a fine oil that keeps the gears of my soul moving, and I had all but ignored it. Small pleasures, gathering together to forget our differences and simply have a good time as a community...maybe this is what we've been missing this whole time.

  at 9:42 AM

  Tuesday, October 19, 2010

  Rachel's Letter

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I know it's early, but Courtney and crew are starting back home today, so I was up anyway to get the call from them. The cleanup at Jack's compound is still ongoing, of course, but the locals reckon they have things well in hand now, and told our folks to head out if they wanted to.

  With all the traffic through the corridor between our compound and theirs, I don't see it taking all that long for them to get back. Hopefully tomorrow, barring any major vehicular issues.

  But something else interesting happened this morning. While I was waiting for the confirmation call from Courtney that they were heading out, I checked my email, only to discover a message from a regular reader and long time friend. When I say long time, I mean since we were kids.

  Rachel lives in Kansas. You may or may not have seen her comments posted on the blog from time to time, generally being inquisitive and occasionally snarky. I have implored her many times to come here with her family, who all managed to survive the initial plague of zombies and the subsequent fall of society. She declined every time, pointing out that the apartment complex they were living in was pretty much zombie-proof all on its own (thanks to cheap campus housing, it's all cinder blocks and tiny windows). They have ample supplies and land to work when they need to up their food stores, plus a shocking lack of swarms around those parts.

  Naturally, she also mentioned that the drive would be tricky at the least and possibly fatal at worst.

  So she emails me last night after I went to bed to tell me that she wants to head this way. With her family, her husband...and a lot of friends.

  Rachel has been trying to reach the same goal as us this whole time. She's been searching for survivors and bringing them together in small groups, pooling resources and trying to build something lasting where she is. There are more than fifty people with her now, and things have been pretty good for them until the last few weeks.

  Recently, bands of marauders have been moving through her area. Not too close to where she and her people live, but the signs are there, and getting closer. Her group are short on firearms, and have stayed alive by being fast and clever, not through the constant fighting that we've had here. They simply aren't equipped to deal with a coordinated assault. So, they are looking for a haven.

  I should point out that I had no idea she had managed to gather people like this. Her reasoning for not saying something is solid; she knows what horrible things I and others here have done, not all of it strictly necessary. We've killed people by the score, led preemptive strikes against our enemies, even burned marauders alive while they slept. We are friends, but her caution about this compound and the people in it is well warranted. That being said, it still hurts a little that she didn't trust me.

  I totally get it, I wouldn't trust us at first glance either. I didn't say it was logical, only that it bothered me.

  Anyway, yesterday's post seemed to be some kind of a sign. Rachel's dad, who in my humble opinion is probably one of the smartest people I've ever met as well as an amazing judge of character, made the point that if we would use precious materials and time to make something like a theater, we can't be that terrible. I think Rachel herself was already leaning toward trust in this matter, but I have little doubt that her father's words played a part in writing to me.

  I don't want to make it sound as though these folks can't take care of themselves and need us to be their knights in shining armor. I have no doubt whatsoever that with the right weapons and experience, they could take out the marauders near them. It's simply that they do have another option beside risking their lives and safety trying to defeat an unknown number of probably enemies who have god only knows what kinds o weapons. This is the safer route for all of them. It's smart.

  But.

  While they are set up to leave at any time, and indeed have managed to pack away many trailers worth of grains and other foodstuffs, they are short on gas. Rachel estimates that they can make it about two hundred and fifty miles with what they have, and then will run dry. This isn't an insurmountable problem, since we have plenty in our reserves at present and are always looking for more. We could meet them if we need to, to refuel and guard their caravan all the way to Frankfort.

  Which would be fine if she knew exactly where the marauding band close to her was located. With that information, escape would be fairly safe and easy.

  But so far, no clue. A few of her people have gone out at night and scouted the land, but haven't yet managed to figure out what direction they are coming from, much less where a safe route around them would be.

  So I think we're going have our election here as soon as Courtney and the others get back, and then I am going to Kansas. I imagine that I can get a team outfitted by then. I just hope that luck holds out for Rachel and her group until we can get there. I don't want to fight if I can help it, nor risk the life of any of my people or hers. My plan is to get in, figure out where the enemy is located, and then leave in a direction that avoids them at all costs, avoiding any swarms of zombies if possible.

  It's going to be dangerous. A million things can go wrong.

  Why the hell am I looking forward to it?

  at 7:34 AM

  Wednesday, October 20, 2010

  People's Choice

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Will called from the road. He, Courtney, Steve and the others are in southern Ohio right now, having circumvented the metro areas. They should be home in a matter of hours, and if they make it safely, we will have our vote for leader. We haven't really decided on a title yet, so for now that's what we're using.

  The nomination method has been something of a problem. See, I have always had a problem with the way elections in this country worked before the fall. Not that we have much to worry about as far as special interests and that sort of thing go. But the council has had a lot of discussions about how we should view those who actively seek power. It isn't that wanting to lead is an issue in itself, only that human history is rife with examples of how badly things can go when the power-hungry get what they want.

  If you have been reading this blog from the beginning, you saw how it affected someone who didn't even want it. Made them act crazy.

  Yours truly, of course.

  So, in the spirit of compromise, we came up with a solution. No one from the council wanted to
take the job, which is probably a good thing. We are actually thinking that it might be a good idea to forbid anyone on the council from being a candidate in the future, at least when they are actively serving in that capacity.

  Sorry, the solution. We decided that anyone who wanted to run had to have thirty signatures for a nomination, and that no one could sign for more than one person. That's all in line with democracy for the most part...but the other bit is that the council interviews every candidate at length, and reserves the right to veto a person's candidacy with a 2/3 majority. We actually haven't had to use that, but since we are all about doing what is best for the group without hanging on to the old ways of doing things, it's a good control for us to avoid trouble.