by Joshua Guess
Our group is doing well. Very well, actually. We've been scouring every town we go through for more medical supplies, and trading our services with those we come across. It was slow going for a bit, we went a day and a half without seeing another living person. That was kind of strange given how often we were running into little groups of survivors. Josh and the others are right--there are a lot more survivors out there than we could have imagined. It's just that most of them don't have a means to discover that there are others out there.
We came to this little town yesterday afternoon and have decided to set up shop here for a while. We've been gathering all the food we can carry so that we can set up a camp for some of the other refugees. Evans has sent out messages telling them where we are, so that they can come join us. While I still can't say where we are, I will tell you that we stopped here for a few very important reasons. One is that this town, while small, has two large hospitals. Well, large for such a rural area. There are also two medical pavilions packed with what used to be the offices of a variety of specialists. I've never heard of this town before, and never been to this state. But my guess is that this place used to exist pretty much because of the healthcare facilities, sort of how lots of old cities sprang from goldmines or lumberyards. There are enough supplies here to keep us going for a long time, and we've found a large tank of gasoline.
The second reason we decided to stop here is the hunting. We almost hit three deer on our way in, and there are woods all around us. I lived in Kentucky for so long that it doesn't surprise me a bit to see ten or twelve deer trotting across a field in a given morning, but a few of the others with us had to get used to the idea that food was just walking around waiting to be shot.
I guess I should mention our new arrivals, now that I have said something about them. The other big reason we stopped is because early yesterday morning we found a family in need of help. I've been asked by them to keep their names private, but the rest of their story I'm allowed to tell.
They are from New York. The city as well as the state. They've been moving in fits and starts toward the compound for weeks, having to camp out for long periods of time when they ran out of gas, waiting while the father went searching for more. The day before yesterday they stopped in this town, and the dad went out to hunt for fuel again, leaving his wife and four kids huddled in their van. He did find some, of course, but when he came back there were a bunch of those cold-proof zombies coming toward their vehicle.
He rushed them, making noise and trying to get the attention away from his family. It apparently worked, and he led the undead away for quite a distance. He lost them at some point and had made it almost back to his camp when he slipped and fell, breaking his ankle badly. It took him more than an hour to crawl back within sight of his family, and it took them a few minutes to realize he wasn't some starving zombie pulling itself across the ice and snow.
They stuck it out all day, slowing down the bleeding with cold and hoping that help would just drop in their laps without any real hope that it would. Lucky for all of them that we were heading this way. Or lucky, at least, that they were trying to get to where we came from, and this road was the easiest for both of us.
They were really disappointed to find out what has happened to the compound. They hadn't had any way to check in with us since they left their home a few weeks ago. They did decide to stick with our group, though, and we are VERY glad to have them.
The wife is a homemaker, though she has had to learn and hone her fighting skills since the zombie plague hit. I watched her completely dismember two zombies this morning without batting an eye, and then turn around calmly to ask if any of us wanted some pancakes.
(Oh yeah--the smaller of the two hospitals here still has two giant, full tanks of propane to run its generators. We're conserving it as much as we can, but no one can resist warmth and hot food...)
Their kids range in age from seven to sixteen, and are all nice kids. The oldest is pretty useful in a fight as well, he seems pretty mature for his age. The younger ones need a good bit of looking out for, but their family has done well for them so far, and now they have us too.
We would have taken them even if the wife had been some bitter harridan and the kids a bunch of useless whiners. The father decided to stop here for practical reasons (little gas left) but they could have kept on for another hour or so if they had really needed to. He stopped here for the same reason we did--you can see both of those hospitals from the main road through here.
Yeah. He's a doctor. SCORE!
at 7:27 AM
Sunday, December 12, 2010
300
Posted by Josh Guess
Well, here we are. Three hundred posts in, and look at how much the world has changed. I'm not going to get all misty-eyed and go on about the way things used to be, because frankly I think that most of us have begun to live in the now. We know what the world around us is, and that to survive in it for the long haul is going to require focus and dedication of purpose.
Over the last week or so I have been seriously considering the future of this blog, as it pertains to my own future and that of my loved ones. I know that any day could bring my death, whether it be from a zombie attack or slipping on the ice and breaking my neck. I know that there is risk in waking with every sunrise.
Early on I did what I could to entice other people to post here. This blog has been a way for so many people to discover other survivors of The Fall, to receive needed help, to find a place to live. And as long as I live, I will be here. My concern lately is that I won't always be here, and because of that I have begun to bring more people to the fore, so that should my voice go silent, the idea of Living With the Dead will live on.
Each day that I am away from the compound teaches me something new and frightening about the world as it is now. Part of the reason I stayed home with my wife during the initial outbreak of the zombie plague was because I had seen too many zombie movies. Moving about seemed like a sure way to lose people, get attacked, and die. Jess and I made our home a fortress and defended it as brutally as needed. We did everything we could to save others, and built a home for ourselves that evolved very quickly, by necessity.
So much of my experience so far has been from that perspective. Looking out on a group I helped bring together, seeing that group as almost the totality of my world. I never had to survive some of the mind-breaking tragedies that so many others have endured. I didn't have to run at top speed from place to place just to avoid being eaten, or shot, or raped.
I'm starting to get it now. Even though we are camped out at the nursing home, secure in one spot, I feel the terrifying ease with which fate could snip me from the mortal coil every time I go out. I feel the desperate hunger of living on minimum calories because we're just not sure how long we can stay here, and don't want to waste food. If we stay out here for long enough, there will be famine times, days on end with no food at all. I know so many people who have told me their stories about the fear and hunger, both growing strong enough within them that many contemplated murdering in order to steal food, or even eating people.
I'm starting to understand. I haven't had to deal with anything close to what they have yet, but now I can see how easy it would be to start having those thoughts. I'm starting to see this world for what it really is; not a group of people bound by a single purpose, but rather a mishmash of individual stories whose plot lines have gotten tangled. Each person who has survived so far is a collection of painful experiences and hard choices, balanced by a desire to do right, for the most part.
That's part of the reason I have tried to get others to write posts on here. For far too long I was focused on what was happening at the compound more than I was interested in what was going on in the people within it. Now that I am out here, so many questions have been raised in my mind that never even occurred to me before. So many things that all of us never questioned, and now I am interested in hearing some of the answers.
Over t
he next few weeks all of us will be exploring the details of all that pondering. My hope is that by understanding the answers, we will better understand ourselves.
Living in a nursing home has made me ask the first real question. I used to work in one of these places, not all that far from my house. In all this time, it never entered my mind to ask this question:
Where are all the old people?
I've been looking into this, and as soon as I am satisfied that I'm not missing something vital, I will relay back to you what I have heard. Maybe a few days.
For those of you who expected this post to be something big and exciting, sorry. I'm trying to survive the same as many of you, now, and am starting to see just how amazing simply watching the sunset or having a meal to eat can be. I'll leave you with this, though--in the time it took us to write three hundred posts, I have become a much happier man than I was. Not as happy as I would have been had the world not crumbled to pieces, but content nonetheless. Being alive is enough for me, with all its triumph and tragedy.
at 6:23 AM
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
SnowBlind
Posted by Josh Guess
Well, we're pretty much trapped in the nursing home. Yesterday morning we were woken by the sentry on duty to be told that a blizzard had come in, and snow was accumulating fast. Every one of us scrambled to get our supplies inside, bring in load after load of firewood.
It's still snowing as I write these words. Going on for more than a day, and so far about two and a half feet have dropped on us. It's that sticky, heavy snow that drifts up around buildings, and the one we're in is no different. Sure, we could get out, but why bother to do all that work? We can survive in here for a good while and wait out the storm and the insanely cold temperatures.
I just hate feeling useless, you know? When it was me staying back at the compound while others went out on missions or scouting trips, at least I had something to contribute. I had a job to do, projects to work on. Now all I have is this blog and simple duties here in our makeshift camp. The worst part of it is that we boarded up or blocked off most of the windows, and the few that we left accessible for visibility are now covered with huge snow drifts. I know logically that nothing too important is likely to be going on outside, but it still bugs me that we can't see anything.
One good thing to note is that Jess found a set of keys this morning, jammed up behind the desk at one of the nurse's stations. There are a lot of locked doors here, and not knowing what was behind any of them, we didn't have the urge to break any down or chop them apart, just in case we needed to block them quickly.
So, Jess and I went exploring with a few of our group. Most of the locked areas were sort of worthless to us- old storage areas and custodial supplies, that sort of thing. Two of them turned out to be awesome in huge ways. The first was the office of whoever the maintenance guy here was. It was packed with all sorts of tools and parts for various things, from electrical components to plumbing repair supplies. There were also a ton of how-to books on pretty much every sort of fix that might be needed in a place like this. Best of all, there was a detailed diagram of the nursing home itself, which showed that this place has a basement.
We hadn't seen a door with that written on it, but the map showed us where it was. We'd ignored that door because it actually said "Mechanical Room" on it, and since there was no power we skipped trying to open it beyond a simple jiggle of the handle. I guess we should have realized there was a level below us, because of the cistern we've been drinking from. The basement is full of things we can use, from fire axes and extinguishers to sealants and even a whole bunch of sterno. Also, there's an enormous master breaker box that is very clearly labeled, which gives us the ability to pick and choose exactly where and what would have power if there were some way to produce electricity.
This might be a good time to mention that we found a generator that apparently runs on propane, hooked up to a very large propane tank. If you're thinking that this news made us extremely happy, you are not at all mistaken.
So right now I'm sitting in a room with a bunch of other people, towels stuffed under the doors and the wall unit cranked up to max heat. We've got three rooms running on actual power right now, instead of switching on the main furnace, if it even runs on electricity. My laptop is plugged in and charging, and for the first time in a week or better, I'm actually warm and comfortable.
Still essentially trapped, but after I wrote the above the realization hit me that we've got it pretty good right now. I wonder if we can get the kitchen going...
Oh, and kicking myself for not thinking of looking for a generator before this. I used to work in one of these places, I know how they're meant to run and what backups most of them have. And after Gabrielle wrote about the generators at her hostpital, too...sometimes I'm slow, but I usually get there in the end.
at 8:38 AM
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Just Chilling
Posted by Aaron
Hello everyone,
This is Aaron here. Josh asked me to post up some time ago, but given the situation I now find myself in, today was the earliest I could do it. See, I'm injured at the moment. Don't worry, it's not lethal or anything. I'll survive. But maybe I should back up a bit. Explain everything that's gone on.
When I found out about Richmond making their way to the compound and Will's betrayal, I grabbed most of the class that was with me. Roughly around 20 kids. Most of them were around the 8-12 age range, though there was a pair of 15 year olds and a 17 year old. There were a few adults with us, but I'll get back to that. We all managed to grab one of the outfitted school buses and thankfully one of the adults (Teddy was his name I think) knew how to drive the thing. We got the heck out of dodge and just started driving. I honestly had no clue where to go. I was so frustrated, so angry, and so betrayed. I trusted Will. Will, can you read this? I trusted you! I hope you realize the hell you're going to get someday. The hell that all of you will get.
Anyways, after driving for what seemed like forever trying to find a place, we passed by the perfect place. A school. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it sooner. It's specifically equipped to deal with large groups of children. Groups much larger than my own. I also believed no one would've raided it. Most people don't see schools as supply stations. They forget all the medical stuff the nurses offices have, all the food the cafeteria holds, and most importantly, the back up generators most these places have for cases of emergency. This one in particular looked to be mostly solar powered given the panels on the roof. Not to mention two-way radios and other very very useful supplies. So we quickly offloaded everyone on the bus (after concealing it from view of the road) and went into the school. I felt a sense of amusement as I passed through the doors. I always felt like I belong in a school in some form or fashion, just not quite like this. Our group started making our way to the cafeteria since the first thing that needed to be checked was the food supply.
I'm guessing they must've heard us coming. I don't honestly know. My memory of the events is a bit foggy. The only real things I remember was hearing a loud bang, followed by an explosion of pain in my leg. I watched as Teddy, and two other adults with me were mowed down by what seemed to be a hail of bullets. Four of the kids dragged me off to what seems like one of the side classrooms. They locked and barricaded the door. I continued to hear gunshots, but instead of hearing the screams of dying children (though there were a couple of those) I heard a couple of grunts and heavy thumps. It seems the 17 year old(whose name I just remembered is Philip) had thought enough in advance to bring a gun of his own and apparently some of the kids grabbed the guns from the fallen adults.
It wasn't long after this that I heard noises in the vents. Two of the bravest kids(Gregg and Tanya) I know crawled out of it. They apparently had decided to use the vents as a means of communication and information gathering (or talking and looking as they said). They watched a lot of spy movies before the fall apparently.
Fortunate for them they were also some of the smallest kids in the class. What they had to tell me was grim. There are still 8 men left in the cafeteria and they have the two large entrances each guarded by two men, as well as the one side entrance into the kitchen area. Each of the men carry guns and what looks to be some sort of homemade pipe bomb if the description from Gregg is any indication. We lost the two fifteen year olds (Jenny and James their names were, twins even, maybe even the last set of twins around though I hope not), all three of the adults (other than myself, of course), and 3 of the other children. Everyone else made it into the room across the hall from me, so they're close at least. So that leaves me with 15 kids in two separate rooms, and unable to move.
Oh yeah I suppose I should tell you what's going on with that. I was shot in the thigh. Somehow just missed the big artery that runs through it, thankfully. Unfortunately, I can't really treat it, but at least I'm able to keep the wound clean with some neosporin and rubbing alcohol Gregg has gotten me from the Nurse's office. But still, if I don't get the bullet out sometime soon, it's not gonna be fun. Not that any of this is. Ever. Gregg was also nice enough to bring me one of the guns from the other room so I can protect the four kids in here with me. Philip's doing a pretty good job so far of organizing things in the other room. I've been told he and the other kids are even working on a plan. Also we've managed to stay fairly warm. I'm guessing that some of the bastards held up in this place are maintaining the generator to keep the electric flowing. So that's where things stand. I'm not sure how we're going to get out of this but we will. I won't let another one of the kids die if I can help it. They've become my new family in a way. I'm proud of my kids, very proud. But I'm also sad for them. That they've had to go through this, and worst of all, they'll most likely have to kill to get out of here. Philip already has, and I imagine that will change him. No one kills without being changed. I know this. The fact that they might have to kill just to survive this mess makes me incredably sad, but it also makes me angry.
