I hope Tom is okay.
So today was my birthday. Martin took a crew with the new dualie and a humvee out to scour the area around here for usable metal and to remove the solar panels from as many places as possible. Amazingly, he was able to clear out two houses of their panels today, as well as find a few hundred pounds of scrap metal that he says he can salvage into good shit. At some point though, we’ll have to start cannibalizing cars and shit to get the raw materials we need. The ultimate in recycling.
Martin and his crew returned late, around 8pm. He said the entire area that his team moved through today was utterly and completely empty of all signs of undead, or assholes. He did see a few animals moving around. I guess there were one or two deer moving about, but no one got a clean shot off, so at some point when he heads out again, they’re going to add “shoot deer” to their agenda. As I’ve said a shitload already, we desperately need wild game to supplement our food consumption. Even with all the food from Gilbert’s warehouse, and the crops, and the cows, and the chickens, and fishing out of Auburn Lake, we still need to gather as much to eat as possible.
Martin did say that when they swung by MGR there were a fair amount of undead roaming in the streets, but the numbers were manageable. Once again the HRT’s plow blade comes to the rescue. As long as they maintain a steady speed, and deal with the undead that are wherever they stop quickly, they can get in and out fast. Mike is always waiting at the heavy duty doors when we arrive now, and he and Patty hop out to help clear the space. What does suck is the large amount of bodies piling up in the area. We’ll need to remove those soon to draw less attention to the building. Plus there’s just a health concern.
Where was I? Oh yeah, so Sophie and Becca in their infinite wisdom gathered a grass roots team and threw me a half assed birthday party, which I really kind of resented. I don’t need to be reminded that I am a year older now. I also didn’t want to waste resources on a party when we’re already struggling to make sure we get by.
They made two cakes. We’ve found boxes and boxes of cake mix and whatnot over the past year, and we’ve kept them nice and dry so many of them are still usable. We’ve got oil and eggs now too, so making them is possible. It was nice to get a cake. I won’t lie. We don’t have a lot of sweets lately, and mowing down on a nice cake with some year and a half old icing on it was awesome. Plus watching the kids smash frosting all over their mugs was a great time.
The older I get, the more joy I find in watching kids. Is that my paternal instinct kicking in? Is that my age showing? Dunno.
Martin’s crew came into the shindig about halfway through it, and joined in on the festivities. It was a nice way to welcome them back after a long day outside the wall. It was also good timing because we really needed to talk about our run back to the warehouse. Well actually the run back to the plumbing shop next to the warehouse.
After a long discussion, we decided that sooner was better than later, and we’re doing it tomorrow morning at about ten am. Everyone other than Mike and Patty will be going with us. I’m figuring we’re looking at maybe a three hour operation, and if we’re lucky, all we’ll run into is the undead milling about in that area of town. I realize the noise we made the other day was likely to draw more undead in to that area, which is to be expected.
What I am really hoping for is no Outsider presence. I can’t imagine they aren’t hurting right now. We’ve killed several of their people, and taken out of one their vehicles. I realize they probably have more vehicles on hand, but by now they HAVE to realize that coming near us will be costly. I just hope we’ve put enough of a hurting on them to send them away with their tails between their legs.
What might bother me as time goes on… is what the fuck is this factory they were talking about? Are they really enslaving people? Are they actually forcing women to have sex for food? Has humanity really fallen that fucking far this fucking fast?
Can I sit here, safe inside my large ass wall knowing that this is happening within driving distance? Knowing that I have the means and ability to make it right?
Blood will be spilled if I make that call.
But blood might be spilled if I don’t.
That’s a decision for another day. Tomorrow we hit the plumbing store. The day after that we are returning to try and finish the fucking wall here so we can finally move on to new and exciting projects that actually improve living conditions, as opposed to just stabilizing what we have now. Projects like finishing the hydro set up, installing the new solar panels, searching for more panels, and maybe, just maybe we can find more folks out there like my family that need a safe place to live.
Wish us luck tomorrow.
Happy birthday to me.
-Adrian
August 23rd
The decision to make some kind of move on the Outsiders is being pushed on me. It appears that every time we move anywhere on the eastern side of town we are encountering these assholes. Yesterday when we returned to Gilbert’s warehouse to hit the plumbing supply store, they made their presence known yet again.
Remember how I was going on and on about how they need to know that they are outgunned and out skilled, and out geared by us? I mean shit, there’s no way they can beat us in any kind of fair fight. Common sense dictates that when you are not able to engage in at least a fair fight, you avoid the fight. Shit that's the first thing they teach you. Never engage in a fair fight let alone one that's unfairly against you. So how do you combat an enemy you can’t beat in a fair fight?
You fight dirty. You fight smart.
Someone at that factory has a small brain inside their head, and they’re putting it into overdrive, directing every teency weency ounce of hatred they can muster in our direction. When we returned to the plumbing store the other day we rolled out in the same exact setup as our first trip. Personnel was slightly changed up, but all in all, a comparable team. We all decided that even with a heavier presence of undead possibly being there, it was still a reasonable risk for us to roll out without a specific recon mission. We also (foolishly, in retrospect) thought the Outsiders would steer far clear of us.
The undead presence was a bit heavier. I’d say there were perhaps twenty or thirty milling about in the street and parking lot, and despite my best efforts in the HRT, there were still most of that number on foot. We elected to clear the place manually, rather than waste fuel driving in circles.
I stopped the HRT in the parking lot, popped open the roof hatch on the truck, and got on the roof, hooting and hollering to get the undead right up on me so we could take them out easier. Immediately I regretted it. I think I was maybe three or four hollers into my zombie calls, and I bent down to get my rifle through the hatch from Angela when I heard and felt a heavy round zip over my head. Sounded like a fat, angry bee. I dove right down into the truck and radioed for everyone to get low. If it weren’t for me reaching for the rifle… There’d be no more Adrian. Yay for being fucking lucky.
The next ten minutes was us being pinned down, by amateur hour sniper fire. Every one of our visible vehicles took fire. Fortunately, the motherfuckers didn’t shoot tires out, and once I had a breather when they were shooting at one of the humvees, I slipped into the driver’s seat and drove the HRT to the opposite side of the strip, away from their position. Before I rounded the corner though one slug ripped into the frame of the truck where the door meets the windshield. Luckily I had the window down at the time, so it didn’t get broken when the frame of the door warped a smidge. That would’ve pissed me right the fuck off.
Close call. Ever been pinned down by sniper fire? It’s the suck. Breaks morale like no one’s business. Luckily, Abby was the tactical shit for us. When she sped away in her humvee she went all the way around the building and gunned it down the road past where Caleb was shot and where the Outsider wagon was torched. Based on where we heard the shots coming from, she took her truck and the team inside down a small side street where some houses were, and rolled right the fuck up behind
the shooter’s position.
Stupid bastard was only three hundred yards from us, and was holed up in a small ranch. Abby saw a small diesel Jetta in the yard, with the trunk open and a backpack on the roof. When Abby, Amanda, and Hector got out, the guy had nowhere to go but straight towards us, or back and out towards them. Abby hollered out for him to give up or get shot, and when he started to shoot out the front door at them, they just dumped a magazine into the place they thought he was standing. As it turns out, 5.56 rounds can penetrate a front door, and a person behind that door from about twenty feet away. We are now +1 diesel Jetta, and -1 asshole Outsider.
Asymmetrical warfare it’s called. When you can’t fight fair, fight dirty. Hit them with snipers, bombs, and all manner of guerilla warfare. Stick and move. If that’s the idea they’re putting in play, then I might be in for a very rough September. I’m legitimately worried that we don’t have the manpower to roll out in force in that area if they decide to get us again. I mean hell, if they had hit one or two of us while all those zombies were still around, we might’ve been down vehicles, then down people, then just plain old down.
If they have a sniper that’s got half a brain, he’d take one or two shots, displace, and disappear. Long engagements just don't work unless you've got a group working with you that can maneuver on your target while you suppress them with the sniper fire. We don’t know he’s gone, and we’ll sit there with our heads down for an hour. We got really lucky this time. Really lucky.
This isn’t like fighting insurgents in Baghdad though. I don’t really have the same fear of IEDs here that I did then. Artillery shells and the expertise to make bombs out of them isn’t something found in America. I mean maybe they can make bombs, and clearly if they’re like, militia assholes or ex-military that’s a worry, but honestly, it seems unlikely.
So what to do?
I don’t know. I haven’t had enough time or input from folks to formulate a real plan to deal with this. Obviously these guys are hostile. Clearly hostile. Every time we see them, we get shot at. Every damn time. They’ve shot at us downtown here, as well as on the fringes of the city miles and miles away. That tells me it isn’t territorial. Well actually, maybe it is. Maybe they’re headed this way the same time we’re headed that way.
Maybe they’re out of shit where they are, and they’re headed this way to try and find more stuff. My stuff. Our stuff. I wonder what the deal is.
As I said before, we’re on a shoot first protocol. I’m not risking shit. As far as being proactive is concerned… I need to get some consensus ideas from my brain trust. Here is where I miss Gilbert. With any luck I’ll have another dream where the old coot drops the wisdom on me. I’m just a Ranger flunk out. He was legit Special Forces. I’ll take his ideas over mine any day.
Funny that I’m seriously sitting here hoping to get real time intelligence and advice from a dead man in a dream. What a world.
We emptied the plumbing shop. Top to bottom took the whole place. Ryan came with us yesterday, and he was elated with everything we took. Pumps, pipes, fittings, tape, tools, soldering shit, etc. Martin came with us as well and he had a bit of a wet dream as we loaded the semi. He said whatever Ryan didn’t use he could work miracles with. Too cool. Martin still wants more, and I want him to get it as well.
Today we focused on two goals. We achieved one, and will be working on the other for some time. What goal was finished?
The fucking Wall. It’s done. Hard to believe Mr. Journal. At least, it’s sealed around the entirety of campus, and it’s sturdy and awesome and only needs finishing touches which will require far less labor than the actual construction did. I will sleep fairly well now that we have rotating guards at the gate, and a huge fucking wall around the entire campus. It has made coming and going a bit of a pain in the ass, but we’ve had to sacrifice a little freedom of movement for security. It’s like living in a castle.
Or a Bastion.
Abby mentioned to me today that we need to go back to our safe house to renew the date it was last cleared on. April was the date we both thought. In order for folks to use the safe house to contact us, we need to make sure the radio is still charged, which by now I’m sure it isn’t, and there’s still fresh food and water there. Well, that and we need to make sure there are no zombies inside again. She’s kind of excited that we might actually get folks to come here to live with us, and she wants to get the safe house back up to spec in that regard.
Martin is heading back out on the 25th to get the rest of the solar panels as well as get his welding supplies. I’m going to ask him to hit the safe house, and remove all signs of its presence. I no longer want to invite ANYONE up here while we’re still dealing with the Outsider threat. Shit, one of those assholes could easily play stupid, call us up, act awesome and we just let them in.
Fuck that. Bastion’s doors are now closed to anyone we can’t vet personally, or through time and trial. No one gets in unless we all agree it’s safe. We’ve still got a killer inside here with us, and I don’t want to let any others in.
Abby won’t be pleased that I disregarded her request. In fact, I fully anticipate catching holy hell from her. I also need to tell Abby that Gavin loves him. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. That might buy me a reprieve from the ass chewing she’s going to give me.
Sigh.
-Adrian
August 26th
It’s sort of nerve wracking being the messenger for a dead man. Especially when you’re delivering serious news about love and life. I am sitting here remembering how scared shitless I was to talk to Cassie that night in the strip club and I am starting to think there is a pattern emerging. I am a giant pussy when it comes to girls.
A few days ago I took Abby for a long walk around campus to check on the wall, and tell her about the dream I had with Gavin. I sat her down at the top of the berm wall with our feet dangling, looking into the forest to the north of campus, right near maintenance. We talked about all manner of issues, and after being really practical talking about security, and various mundane issues, I flat out asked how she was doing.
She played tough. She said she was fine, couldn’t be better, etc. I let her put up the show, and after she was done explaining just how bulletproof she was, I called her out. I mentioned she had to still be messed up over Gavin, and I knew the whole Mike/her mom issue was messing with her. She got really quiet, and didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I let her have a moment, and then I added that I was worried, and that I knew she missed Gavin, and that I felt Patty had handled the Mike thing wrong, and that she had every right to be pissed off at a large amount of people. Never mind the whole issue of being shot at multiple times, and the constant work level and stress we exist under.
I tried to explain that I cared for her, and that I wanted to make sure she knew she could talk to me. She looked up with those damn wet eyes, and then I got all emotional, and she slid next over next to me, and the two of us had a good old cry. God I can’t stand being a fucking pussy. Why is it that I just melt lately? I’m such a wreck.
It doesn’t help that I love that girl to death now, and anytime she’s hurt, it’s like my own blood is running free. I’ve never been a father, but I suspect the feeling is damn similar.
She was pissed at her mom. That was the real issue. She felt her mom had been lying to her for some time, and the evidence points to a certain amount of that being damn well true. I don’t think Patty was being malicious, I just think she was afraid of hurting Abby, and this was the result. Abby wasn’t so much pissed that her mother had found someone other than her father, it was more the idea of being deceived by her lone surviving family member. It also didn’t help that Patty still hadn’t really talked to her about it, despite Abby making some awkward attempts at starting the conversation.
I told her I’d try to talk to Patty about it, and Abby said don’t bother. I agreed that I wouldn’t. Abby wants her mother to come to her on her own, not after I prompt her to do it. Can’t say
that I blame her.
After we got that off the plate, I told her all about the dream. I tried to make it easy to take, but as soon as I told her I had a dream the other day, she perked up. She knew about the first dream where I saw Gavin. I told her Gavin said that he loved her, and that sent the both of us back to Pansyland where it’s always raining tears. She knew he’d say that. I also told her that he wanted her to be happy, and to not wait around for him. He didn’t want her to be lonely. She shook her head predictably, saying she’d love him forever.
I told her she could still love him, and be with another person, and love them too. Sometimes the memory of what was keeps us stranded in the past, wishing and hoping for things to go back to the way they were. Unfortunately, the past is the past, and if we aren’t living for the present, informed and taught by the past, then there isn’t a lot of hope. I love Cassie. I will always love Cassie. I made my mistakes with her, and I can’t ever make them quite right again, but I need to move on, and be happy with who I’m with now.
I explained all that to Abby, and she seemed to take it all and dismiss it. I just hope she understands that it isn’t betrayal to love again.
After our hour or two chat in the evening we headed back inside. The fucking mosquitoes were horrifying anyway.
Yesterday Martin and I led a team outside the wall to hit the safe house to take it down, scour the area nearby for scrap metal, restock MGR, and hit another house to remove solar panels. Amazingly, we did all of that and got it done in a reasonable amount of time. We did head out early, which gave us a nice head start on the day, but I think we rolled back over the bridge around 7pm.
I do need to check in with Blake on our fuel situation. He has unofficially taken over the responsibility of monitoring it as we refuel the vehicles, so he’s the guy to ask. I know with our runs to the warehouse as well as the plumbing shop, but Martin’s constant need for panels and metal and whatnot, we’re eating away at diesel like a mother fucker. It might be a good time to fill that damn water truck up with diesel fuel and stash it away somewhere so we have a nice reservoir on hand should something happen. We might also need a gasoline run from the gas station downtown. Frankly, it might be a good idea to find some kind of mass storage and just drain every drop out while we can.
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family Page 26
