Living With the Dead: The Bitter Seasons
Page 14
Some folks are managing very well. They are eating regularly if not sumptuously. They are within the relative safety of our walls. They have tolerably warm places to live, decent and needed work to perform. All of that is to the good.
But as you have read over the last week or so, not everyone's lie around here is so easy. Many people are dealing with the traumas in their lives, many so atrocious that they can't even talk about it. That constant stress I love to talk about, the daily fear of attacks and losing those we love is enough to test anyone.
What concerns me is the thousand tiny details that add up over time. For me, today, it's a sleep disorder I can't do anything about that is going to effect the quality of my life. For another person, it could be finally remembering that we don't have a corkscrew when he wants to open that bottle of wine he snagged to celebrate his anniversary. The woman who comes home from a long day of patrol on the wall only to realize that she's starting her cycle and the compound has run out of sanitary items for her to use.
Yeah, people hate that our medical facilities are limited, but that's a big thing that can be rationalized. It's the little bits we had become so used to that will bleed our minds a drop at a time. Can the adaptability that is the hallmark of the human animal work fast enough to get us used to the lack of so many things that eased our lives? I don't know.
I have always been a resilient guy, and most of the survivors with us are tough as nails. Right now I feel distracted and tired, but I know that once I get a handle on it this problem, I will manage fine. I'd like to think that the rest of the people here are better than me. Maybe they will be able to brush off the little things and appreciate what is rather than wishing for what was.
I hope so. The world that was is gone forever, and wishing will do us no good.
at 9:36 AM
Friday, November 12, 2010
From Bullets to Words
Posted by Josh Guess
I got another bit of information from that guy in Alaska, but I have to admit that some of what he's saying sounds a bit dubious. We know how the disease spread here, and it can be hard to reconcile that with some of what he's saying...but that isn't really important right now, honestly, because the hard facts are that the people there are dealing with the same problems we are here. Just colder.
Something very important happened yesterday, and I hope it bodes well for us. The mysterious group of people in Carterville, Illinois that shot at Steve and I from inside the walls of their own walled compound have finally contacted us. We have tried just about everything we could think of to form some kind of communication with them, to no avail.
Now, though, we have that chance. I got an E-mail from one of the people there, who has asked me to keep his information secret. It turns out that these folks have been struggling pretty hard just to get by since The Fall. They have just recently gotten communications up, and are trying to find some help from other survivors. Courtney is very excited about this, since she and Steve are both from Carterville, and as our diplomat this is sort of her specialty.
I don't have a lot that I can share about them at this point. They have asked for privacy for now, and we will naturally comply. If these folks turn out to be peaceable, then my hope is that we can build a good working relationship with them to strengthen us both.
Other than that, no big news to report. There have been no sightings of military men, which is great. The longer we can go without having to fight the soldiers from Richmond, the better. Hopefully it will never happen.
No zombies coming after us, which is just as good. It's finally gotten cold here again, and they have managed to hide themselves while hibernating so well that our scouts haven't found any big groups in the last day or two.
It almost feels like we're paused between breaths here. So much possible good and bad on the horizon, yet everything seems to be standing still. I hate the feeling that we are trying to plan our lives around fights that may never happen, and hopes that may never manifest. Patrick might be leaving soon to look for his family, Courtney and Steve might be heading back to Illinois to work on relations with the people in Carterville.
I will remain here with Will and Dodger, doing what I can to help them finish the defensive upgrades around here as well as doing my own job. This is our home, and I intend to do what I can to keep it happy and running smoothly when any of our people have to leave, so that when they come home it seems as though they never left.
at 8:11 AM
Saturday, November 13, 2010
The Maybes
Posted by Josh Guess
Nine times out of ten, your instinct is dead on. It's that ten percent chance that always gets you.
In a lot of situations, you might take a risk based on a gut feeling. The thing about living in a world full of the living dead is that the consequences of even the most basic risks are much higher than they were a year ago. Which is why, as the weather gets warmer today, we will be mounting full scout and sentry rotations. Through the last week and a half we've had big fluctuations in the temperature, yet no matter how warm it gets the zombies don't come for us. Maybe they are being led by smarties who realize that a cold snap right after an attack means they won't get far enough away before becoming immobile to be safe from us.
None of us are willing to bet on that.
That idea, of preparing for any contingency, is pretty much the driving force behind the way we have survived here. From day one, the compound has been about gathering supplies and food, weapons and vehicles...anything and everything we might need down the road. Several times we've been caught short because we just didn't think of this or that, but overall we have done well. So how do you plan out defenses when you know that somewhere frighteningly close there exists a group of men with access to enough firepower to level pretty much your whole town?
You don't. You can't.
When the idea came up in council, it was hard to convince people that the likelihood of the soldiers in Richmond just annihilating us without cause was small. People become irrational when they are afraid, and get very afraid when they realize that they could be wiped from the face of the earth without any warning or chance to fight back.
The key to the argument was motive. It's obvious that they do have one, and that they aren't just bent on our destruction. I mean, we haven't done anything to them. If they wanted to take us out, they simply would, I think. I'm sure that somewhere on that massive depot is a canister of something that would end us as a problem definitively.
They attacked us, though. They sought to overtake us through minimal force and without killing too many of our people. The assumption has to be made that they are after something. My guess is that they want our food and supplies, as Will paints a pretty grim picture of what life on the Richmond base is like...
So we have to operate from that viewpoint. We have to plan and build defenses based on an attacker that has a goal and means to get there that doesn't involve turning our home into a smoking hole in the ground.
It's actually a good thing. I mean, to know that there is at least a chance that we can survive an assault should it come...
Well, that's rather optimistic. I should have just said what all of us know--the attack is coming. There really can't be any doubt at this point. Why would people desperate enough to send ten percent of their men at us to try and take control give up after that attempt failed?
They won't. We are all certain of it, or we wouldn't have been let Will run roughshod over us the last few weeks augmenting our defenses. But we aren't trusting our gut on this. We are planning for any number of possible outcomes. Because as much as we love this place, my home for many years long before the zombie plague, we love living and surviving more. If it comes down to having to go down in a blaze of glory or having to run...
Hopefully, it won't come to that. Maybe we can do enough here to make the Richmond soldiers realize we might not be worth the risk. Maybe we can fend them off. Maybe we can kill them en mass.
at 10:45 AM
Monday, November 15, 2010
Crazy Town
Posted by Josh Guess
I have been trying to keep as regular as possible on here lately, but with winter comes illness. I don't usually get sick very often but this year seems to be a bad one for me. I'm not on death's door or anything but I do feel pretty weak and out of it right now. So if I get all wonky and make no sense before the end of this post, forgive me. I'm still trying to shake it off.
Courtney has managed to maintain civil contact with the group in Carterville. They are still asking for privacy at present, so I won't go into detail. I will say that things are going well on that front. We even got an apology from them for shooting at me and Steve, not that we could blame them. Oh, and Courtney also managed to find out some info on the crazy bastard that commented on the blog after our trip to Carterville.
You might not remember, but when we got close to there we encountered a wall made of all kinds of things. My brother Dave blew a giant hole in it so we could get where we needed to go. On the way back from that particular trip someone posted a comment on that blog entry, basically threatening all of us here at the compound for damaging their work and endangering their families.
It wasn't the Carterville folks that sent this. Remember, they didn't have access to the internet at all until a short while ago.
No, it was someone from another group of survivors in Marion, which is my hometown. That group is smaller and frankly scary from what I have been told. They didn't build the wall (it seems likely that the marauders that still control much of Carbondale, where we rescued Tree and his people from, are responsible there) but they did enjoy the protection it gave from zombies coming in from the north.
The people in Marion are crazy. They aren't like some survivors, like us and the Carterville group, who are merely cautious to a fault and fast on the trigger. Nor are they like marauders, who kidnap and murder in order to steal supplies and weapons as well as for fun. No, those people are actually nuts, it seems.
They are rational enough to want to live, and seem to be willing to do just about anything to achieve that goal. Marion is now a deathtrap from one end to the other, dotted with pits, rope snares, explosives...literally tons of deadliness wherever you go. The Carterville group lost a patrol finding that out.
Marion is basically off limits to anyone and everyone. They kill any human who isn't a part of their group on sight. I don't know what they have gone through to make them so afraid of everyone, but there it is. No one goes in and lives. There is no chance for useful communication.
The whole thing begs the question: when and if society stabilizes and we can finally destroy or at least manage the swarms of zombies across the earth, what do we do with people like this? Do we leave them be and only worry about them when they get low on food or medicine and come out, desperate and willing to kill on a whim? Do we take drastic measures to ensure that a group of murderers never has the chance to come after us? It's a bit much for me this morning.
It's looking likely that Courtney and Steve will be heading out before long. I hope that the positive trend with the Carterville compound grows on, but I will worry about them regardless. There is so much death and destruction in southern Illinois, and we know that large groups are still active as marauders, maybe more so since our trip there. Our tenuous friendship with Carterville has made us aware that somehow they have kept themselves safe from outside forces, but I still worry.
Maybe because of our recent group obsession around here with overwhelming forces...
Ok, that's it for me. I need to get some work done today and writing for a long time is only sapping what little concentration I've got. More tomorrow.
at 8:20 AM
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Epic
Posted by Josh Guess
In a world where the dead walk and feast upon the living, every small victory is important.
Large victories are almost unheard of.
This morning I woke to a flood of emails from people all across the country. Dozens of communities out there, banded together as we have. Between them they number several thousand people, every one working as we have worked to create sustainable living spaces for meeting the needs of long-term survival.
More than forty communities have had a representative contact us since last night. I am frankly pretty blown away by this, and we have the good people at Google to thank for it. Once again, the engineers and programmers there have managed the impossible and gotten communications running across big swathes of the nation. Though, there is one very interesting point here that has huge implications.
While there are emails in my inbox from many places across the USA, one state in particular is dense with small groups of survivors--Louisiana. About half of all the contacts I had this morning were from there. The reason for this is simple--that was the place with the highest number of self-sufficient cell towers, and where the engineers were able to restore the broadest amount of function to the network. That means that once Google managed to get control of that part of the cell network, they were able to alert anyone with a compatible phone or other wireless device. Not that many had them, of course, but most communities have managed to cobble together a means to power small devices, enough to charge them should someone attempt communication.
Think about this. Louisiana has at least twenty groups of people who have survived. How many more must be out there in large areas where there is no communication at all? God, everyone here is so excited at the possibilities. There could be dozens of groups in Kentucky, right?
Google basically flooded the networks with calls and texts, trying to alert everyone that had the means to get them that others are out here. Once that basic line of communication was established, it was a short step to mentioning the groups that have already taken steps to bring in others, like us. Hence, the giant grin across my face all morning.
It's amazing. We're dealing with a lot of stress and worry here lately, and this news was just what we needed to boost our spirits. I have a lot to do, especially with so much new data to coordinate. So much potential!
This is HUGE.
at 7:54 AM
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Misogi
Posted by Josh Guess
Unless you are either versed in Japanese culture or practice one of their martial arts, there is a good chance you don't know what the title of this blog means. I only half-remembered it myself when I thought of it, and had to look it up to make sure I had it right.
Misogi is an old and traditional practice in Japan. Many people used different versions of it for ritual purification, and the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, used it as part of his training. Ueshiba found that water misogi, specifically standing under a cold waterfall, helped him to find his center and cleanse his mind so that he could move further toward understanding of himself and the world around him.
It's the waterfall that always interested me. Not as a spiritual cleansing, but as a physical and mental test of yourself. To me the idea of subjecting your body to long periods of extreme wet and cold and trying to toughen yourself to endure more every time you try it seems very primal. The mental control it takes to force yourself to remain still when so many outside stimuli are screaming at you to move, to end the discomfort, to be somewhere warm and dry and peaceful.
Fascinating. To me, anyway.
I have always wanted to try it. Not too many waterfalls around here, though, and for one reason or another I never got around to it.
Yesterday, I did. Sort of. It started raining early in the morning, and it was cold. Cold enough that there was zero chance of any zombies coming for us. Cold enough to require a winter coat. Not quite frigid to the point of turning the rain to snow, though, and that's what got me thinking.
I sat in my back yard on a small patch of grass wearing only a pair of shorts. The rain waxed and waned in the
thirty or so minutes I was out there, ending with fat drops much like bullets, each one a painful sting on my skin. I shivered and burned to move away from the cold. I tried to think of anything else but where I was and the numbness in my limbs.
Thoughts crossed my mind that seemed so simple to me at the time, yet now that I have to write them down feel complicated and clunky.
The Fall happened. Society smashed apart when it struck the hard earth, and we are still dodging the pieces. Part of why the compound and so many other groups out there have survived is because we haven't cut ourselves trying to snatch the remnants of the old civilization from the flying debris around us. Most survivors instead remember what was, and move forward in a way that makes good and practical sense.