by Joshua Guess
They're rabid dogs, the Exiles, and as such they need to be put down. That's just not possible right now. So we'll do what we can to weaken them until they finally decide they've had enough and attack us in earnest. It can only be a matter of time.
Maybe the pain they're dealing with right now will teach them caution in the future. I'd like to think they've learned a lesson about doing unto others. I hope, but I don't believe it.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Precipice
Posted by Josh Guess
We're standing on the edge of a cliff, and the wrong move could push us off it.
I've got to keep this very, very short due to the war council meeting that starts in a few minutes. But a quick word needs to be said, so you at least know why we're heading in the direction of open conflict. We know the Exiles are holed up in the fallback point, licking their wounds from our assault the other day. We know this because one of the two scouts we sent up one of the cliffs to spy on them told us.
The other scout took a rifle bullet to the chest. He died before his partner could get him back to New Haven.
So, we know they have snipers. We know they're done being subtle. We've thrown the first stone in terms of outright physical confrontation, and they've responded with high-caliber rounds. This situation isn't going to resolve easily or without loss, but we're used to hard and dangerous circumstances.
Our next few steps need to be mapped carefully or we'll all pay the price. I'm making sure I'm early to the meeting in hopes that I can moderate some of the council's ideas, because given recent events I'm certain they'll be too risky. This is not the time to make errors we can avoid.
Again, sorry this is short, but I'll make it up to you by not taking any days off until some kind of resolution is enacted. It may be a fight, it may be something else entirely, but I'll keep everyone in the loop.
New Haven feels somber, like the air itself knows the risks we're going to take...
Friday, February 10, 2012
Subtrefuge
Posted by Josh Guess
So maybe I wasn't totally honest when I said the other day that we discounted many ideas on how to attack the Exiles. Misinformation is a key aspect of warfare, after all.
Now that our teams have come home, I can report on their activity. I feel pretty safe telling you this (and have approval to do so from the council, though it irks me that it's required) since the methods our people used can't be defended against. You'll understand when I explain.
The Kentucky River is long. Very long. It's impossible for our enemies to patrol even the portion of it that's in this county, much less sections that are much farther away. Two teams made up of a mix of scouts and soldiers went to a location I won't disclose and set up a rope line. That required one of our people to go across the river, but that wasn't such a problem. Jet Skis aren't that hard to find. Not a tactic I'd care to see repeated given the incredible risk involved, but it worked. Zombies were attracted to the noise, but our folks got across once the line was up pretty quickly.
Then several days of sabotage took place.
We knew that getting our folks into the fallback point itself was far too risky. Instead they moved about the area, mostly at night to remain as stealthy as possible, and generally fucked things up. Hitting the Exiles' vehicles was also out of the question, but our boys and girls did a fantastic job setting traps all around the area. Explosives, homemade traps, and some other things I'm sure the Exiles haven't found yet. We know they've run across several of our little presents, because we've had people out listening from safe spots for the explosions.
What's really strange is that they haven't tried to retaliate. I'd have thought something would have happened by now, but our watchers report that the Exiles are hunkering down and keeping close to their base. It makes me nervous.
I'll admit that yesterday's post was also a bit of misdirection, though not entirely false. I really am worried about the possibility that the council will choose to act in a way that will endanger more people than absolutely necessary. The feeling that we were on the edge of a very dangerous moment was real also. Because the teams we sent out had just finished their work, and we were worried about what the response would be from the Exiles.
As it turns out, the most unnerving response they could have given us was this one. Nothing. An enemy that reacts to your attack is a predictable one. Borderline psychotics like the marauders that make up a big chunk of the Exiles should not be capable of the kind of deliberate self-restraint we're seeing. I find it difficult to believe they're so frightened of us that they won't come out of their hidey-hole.
The question remains: what are they doing in there?
I can't conceive an answer that doesn't end in bloodshed. The trick is going to be anticipating what their response will be. It's gonna be that much harder since they've got the homesteaders with them. No one will be more useful in finding sneaky ways to attack us. The Exiles might consist of two very different groups of people, but together they're as much of a threat to us as anything I can imagine.
In short: if we don't get an edge on them and figure out what they're going to do, we're potentially fucked.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
All These Diamonds
Posted by Josh Guess
The groundhog must have seen his shadow, because winter has made a sudden and vengeful reappearance. Snow all yesterday afternoon and through the night melted into a thin layer of water that froze into ice when the temperature took a dive and bottomed out in the low twenties. Zombie activity has slowed to a crawl, but we've got our scouts out in full force anyway.
Not because of the undead, or not only because of them. The new breed are dangerous and crafty, resistant to cold, and probably smart enough to wait until it got cold enough to drive us indoors to attack. Wouldn't put it past them. But the very same thing can be said of the Exiles: our expectation was that they'd start coming out when they thought it was safe, which would logically be right now. Our ability to be outdoors is hampered, so naturally they should take advantage of that.
And lo and behold, they are. While the Exiles defied our expectations by going to ground after our attack instead of hitting back, today they're reacting as we'd expect. They're out in force this morning, though we can't make much sense of what they're doing. The assumption was that they'd be working on some attack plan, like constructing a bridge or gathering boats. Which, to be fair, they might be doing in a location we haven't found. At the fallback point, they definitely aren't.
They're clearing the roads. Of ice, of snow, and with great caution of explosives and other traps. I'm beginning to wonder if the Exiles realize that they're not going to find us easy prey and have decided to cut their losses and fight again another day. There's always a chance that the utter horror of being trapped in your own clothes with sand hot enough to melt skin was enough to send them packing. Maybe having some of their number blinded in that attack, then others blown to dust by explosive traps days later finally drove home the point that we are simply not to be fucked with.
It sounds good in my head. Epic, even. I know in my heart that's probably not the case. This isn't a fairy tale. The good guys don't get an easy win by scaring the bad guys. These are real human beings, and they react like real people do.
Which means they're probably angry to a degree I can barely fathom. Worse, they're clearly not letting that anger distract them. Instead, the opposite seems to be the case, giving them a common enemy to hate and focus on as they follow through with whatever plans they have. We know their larger goal is our destruction, but that doesn't really help. You know a butcher is going to slice up a carcass, but unless you know where the first cut is going to be you have no way of predicting how he's going to do it.
Still, we can make a few reasoned guesses based on what the scouts report. There are few reasons why the Exiles would need clear roads: to leave (we can only dream), to bring in more of their brethren to perhaps try and
match our numbers, to be able to field hunting parties if they're low on food, or to reach points elsewhere from which to stage a river crossing to attack us. Sure, there are a lot of other possible reasons, but those seem like the most likely given their mindset.
The most worrisome aspect of the situation is the council. They might be a bit too fast to act for my taste, and their judgment questionable when it comes to putting our people at risk, but at least with a defined threat they react predictably. There's a lot of nervous tension in the council right now. They don't like not knowing what the Exiles are up to. I'm afraid that with the cold hitting the zombies so hard and essentially relegating them to a background threat, they'll react badly to the Exiles' every move. Worry and fear will make the most reasonable person react with blind stupidity after a long enough time building up. The pressure is slowly increasing.
Time is ticking by. As I looked out at the beautiful layer of ice coating the world this morning, sparkling and pure, I couldn't help envisioning what all those billions of diamonds would look like on a New Haven burned to the ground or flattened by bombs. The hardest truth of all is that the ice would have been just as lovely on a set of ruins that mark the tomb of a community I love, that I built, as it does a thriving home filled with the living. In the larger scheme of the world, that image shows just how small and unimportant New Haven's survival is. The universe does not play favorites. It's us or the Exiles, no help from greater powers than we.
Good thing my people have grown used to taking care of themselves, isn't it?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Seeing Reasons
Posted by Josh Guess
Our scout report for this morning made everything clear, and the entire situation with the Exiles has changed. Overnight, our people saw loads being brought into the fallback point through the cleared sections of road. People, supplies, but most frightening of all, seedlings. Plants.
They brought in lots of things, but the majority of what was transported were items used to create a long-term settlement. The Exiles aren't just staging for a war with us, though I'm sure that's coming. They're digging in for the long haul.
They're building a community.
If it hadn't been made so clear by their actions that they're actively hostile toward us, I'd have some hope that we could manage to coexist. Stranger things have happened in the history of the world than two bitter enemies learning to live side by side. The world wars taught us the value of putting hatred aside and dealing with the reality that constant warfare isn't the way to move forward. In this case, I don't think that's possible. The world isn't as it was then, and while there are certainly enough resources to be had around Franklin county to supply both New Haven and the Exiles, peaceful coexistence just isn't in the cards.
For better or worse, we've trained ourselves to respond decisively and with finality to threats. You'd think our overactive council would be gung-ho to nip this godawful development in the bud, but they're responding slowly and with hesitation. As it turns out, Dodger and Will have been feeding the council detailed reports containing strategies and assessments for a full-scale assault on the Exiles. They've concluded that, with the resources we have available, the only way we stand a chance of beating the Exiles quickly is full-on assault.
At least, that would have been true until this morning. Because when I say the Exiles have been bringing in loads of things, I mean it in every way. Estimates lead us to believe they've almost doubled the number of people living at the fallback point. They've been bringing in farming implements and foodstuff to grow, but they've got enough bulk food to last a long, long time. We can't starve them out. And now that their numbers are so much larger, we can't fight them with less than every able-bodied person.
Turns out the council is only cavalier about risking the lives of other people. When Dodger laid out the bare bones and explained that we'd need every single person on board, they balked. Granted, that's a high-risk scenario that we'd risk only as a last resort, but still. I'm putting out there for the people of New Haven and everyone else so they know exactly what the conditions here are. What kind of leadership we're dealing with.
The council is unwilling or unable to act right now. My guess is that they're terrified of having to put themselves in danger, but I admit that I might be wrong. Unfortunately, the longer they take to act, the more entrenched the enemy gets and the harder it's going to be to clear them out.
It's good that I have a backup ready. It's a last-ditch effort and dangerous in ways I can't explain without telling you what it is. What happens next is on me.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Watershed Moment
Posted by Josh Guess
Since my post yesterday, a string of events has played out that will have lasting ramifications for New Haven and everyone that calls it home. In short, I've played every ace I had in the hole and made every desperate gambit I could. Things have changed.
Back in Colorado, we encountered a large area that was totally bereft of life, even zombies. We discovered that the area had been blasted with chemical and possibly biological agents, and only after I contacted some trustworthy allies to raze the place to the ground did I comment on what we'd found. I couldn't risk any remaining weapons of mass destruction falling into the wrong hands.
Funny, isn't it, how we always think our hands are the right ones.
Now that I've taken action, I can tell the whole truth. You've probably already guessed that I salvaged some of the unused canisters from that place, hid them in the trailer and brought them back home. Two metal containers about the size of a small kitchen fire extinguisher, yet with enough destructive power to wipe out hundreds of human lives in one stroke.
After my post yesterday, the council sent guards to make sure I didn't leave New Haven before they got a chance to talk to me. I went without a fight, because fighting would have been pointless. Also because I wouldn't have posted something like that without fully expecting a consequence of exactly this type. When I stood in front of the council, as they rained questions down on me, I stood calmly without speaking. I waited until their excitement turned into anger that I refused to respond. Past that, I waited until they finally fell totally silent, realizing I wasn't going to speak so long as they were ranting at me.
That was when my people entered the room without announcing themselves and informed the council that their services would no longer be required.
Since well before the team and I returned home, we've been in touch with people at New Haven about the dangerously unpredictable people in charge of the place. The only person on the team that is innocent in all of this is Bill, who finds himself thrust into a volatile situation in his new adopted home. Becky, Rachel, Will, Steve, and I have all been organizing and fomenting resistance on the off chance we'd need to act. Yesterday, the need became pressingly clear.
Understand, please, that we did this according to the rules. One of the many changes the new council made to New Haven's charter (or constitution, whatever they're calling it now) was to give the people the ability to vote in a single leader during times of conflict. All it takes is a majority vote. I think the council expected to have the clout to make sure it would be one of them if crunch time came.
They were wrong. As of today, against all expectation, Will Price is our leader again.
You may think that I would be the logical choice, but I've been down that road. Maybe someday I'll have the maturity to handle that kind of power, but not today. Not soon. Will has been a soldier, a general, a spy, a slave, a criminal, and an intrepid explorer. Through all he's suffered at the hands of New Haven's citizenry, he's maintained a love of this place that is almost matchless.
The other reason we rallied the people for Will instead of me is that I was the one who had the chemical weapons. Whoever went to to deliver them against our enemies was expected to have a 50/50 chance of returning, and Will is still crippled from his injuries. So I was the one who went. I was the one who
carefully read the instructions on the things for the fiftieth time, who wore a gas mask, who made his way through the tall, frozen grass lining the hill leading down to the fallback point.
The freezing wind was merciless, but at least it drove the zombie swarms to ground. I didn't have to worry much about them as I crawled several hundred yards dragging a huge nylon bag behind me. I was alone and not in danger from the undead as I set up the air cannon, whose double barrels were cut short to fit in the bag. I hadn't expected to get close enough to actually get my shot into the fallback point, so I settled on firing my charge just far enough to be on the edge of the river, my side of the river. The wind would carry the gas across and into the ranks of the enemy. There was enough of it to kill most of them if we were lucky.
