by Joshua Guess
Predictably, some people are upset that I've basically told the leadership to let me do what I want and got my way. Things have worked out well, and there aren't any snags so far. So my response?
Fuck 'em.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Dope
Posted by Josh Guess
It seems counterintuitive, but it turns out that people infected with the new plague actually seem to be relieved by smoke. Though the fresh and damaged version of the zombie illness is hitting them in their lungs, blow-by marijuana smoke does seem to have a positive effect.
Yeah, I know. Strange. The folks in my house aren't using the stuff, but the clinic is treating several people with more difficult breathing and it's doing some good. I don't know if the moderate amount of THC they're getting from the indirect inhalation is just relieving some of the pain or if it's the particulate matter of the smoke itself making the two warring versions of the plague behave better, but it's a win.
Funny that the end of the world came, and instead of toking up given the lack of law, people are instead really using the stuff for a medical purpose. With disturbing numbers of zombies still milling around outside the walls, you'd think a lot of people would be getting high if for no other reason than to mitigate the insane level of stress that situation creates.
But, no. Our people are way too laser-focused on getting their jobs done and seeing to the most important needs of the community. Maybe one day when everyone is safe, we'll have a party and those who want to partake can do so without fear of endangering others with slow reactions. I hope that day comes, I really do. Not for the freedom to indulge (I never cared for the stuff myself) but for the simple freedom to choose.
Jess isn't doing any better, but she's not doing any worse either. That's something, I guess, but I can't quite get over waking up after my very minimal naps and seeing her unchanged. New cases of the plague are slow in developing at the moment, and a few more people have beat the thing overnight. Sadly, two more deaths as well, which only makes me wish to see Jess pop up one morning hale and hearty. Other people are doing it, why not her?
It's terribly stressful, but I try to keep cool in front of her. One small piece of solace is this blog, which she doesn't read. I mean, why would she? I'm right here, and everything I say on here she could just ask me. So in this space I can complain about my worries, fret over the fact that she reacts very badly to smoke of any kind and thus won't benefit from this new treatment if she does get worse, and I don't have to worry about her feeling bad for me. I'm trying my damnedest to be her rock right now. I don't know how much she needs it.
The zombie plague has destroyed much, and in my wife it has beaten away the layers of fear and worry. Jess used to be shy and unsure of herself, but now she leads naturally, without any hesitation or concern over what people think of her. She has to labor to breath if she does anything more difficult than walk at a normal pace, but that doesn't stop her from doing every ounce of work she can, and then some.
She's tougher than I am. I know that now. If my being home can help in even the tiniest way, I'm going to keep doing it. Hell, right now I'm mostly just helping the others and being impressed at how much Jess can still do on her own.
I see it wearing her down, though she fights it. She's smart enough to pace herself but time and weariness aren't forgiving to the infirm. She'll keep going until she falls, because that's just who she is.
And I'll catch her, because that's who I am.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Hand of Doom
Posted by Josh Guess
There are some days that start off bad and just roll downhill from there. Bad days like that can be epic from a single event, so terrible and mind-shattering that they leave scars on you that take years to get over. Others aren't as damaging in the long term but have the same kind of impact.
Where to begin?
I guess it started last night. The giant outdoor freezer I'd been designing before the team and I left out, the one my brother completed while we were away, failed. Not a structural failure--I spent too much time digging through the various articles and texts in my copy of the Ark and too much time double-checking my work to have made an engineering mistake that bad--but plain old human error. Our Absorption fridge needs a heat source to keep the process going, and last night the person who was on duty passed out just after they relieved the person before them.
The guy who passed out was sick with the new plague and didn't tell anyone. The fire has to be carefully tended, and no one came by to check on him as they should have. As a result, the contents of the fridge began to thaw. We insulated well, but the amount of time that passed means we have to eat a lot of the stuff that's in there. Mostly meat. Now that the fridge is cooling back down we can restock it, but we've got a lot less people to send out hunting than we did a few weeks ago.
Oh, and it's not like we can easily send people out. The zombies have apparently taken notice of the lower number of guards on the wall. They're coming closer to the ring of traps around New Haven all the time, and our people have been told not to fire on them unless the undead actually attack. We don't want to provoke them. The game here is to keep from having to fight again for as long as possible.
Sending out hunting parties is problematic for that very reason. We can't let them through the gate where the undead can easily spot them and attack. We have to get hunters out over the wall at times when they aren't being observed. Getting them back in is even more of a mess, because they have to come in wherever there's an opening, which means we need teams ready to run to any given spot to haul ropes and ladders at a moment's notice.
Two more deaths since yesterday, and four more sick. Three of those four are council members, so we're running a deficit in the responsible leadership area. The Exiles have started to reappear in small numbers at the fallback point, some of them going outside to work on their crops. Not devastating news, but it means they're either recovering somewhat from their outbreak of the plague or on death's door with hunger and desperate enough to survive that they'll send a few healthy souls out to collect food.
I don't know which is worse, to be honest.
Oh, and on top of those bits of bad news, the annex--the burned-out section of New Haven we abandoned last year and now farm in--is being invaded. By gophers.
Yeah, cute little guys that annoy Bill Murray in legendary golf movies. It's almost funny how dangerous those fuckers are to us. The ground and crops are being assaulted by a force of dumb, adorable tunnel dwellers that only want a nice meal. We've got deadly enemies across the river, implacable and clever undead nearly beating on the walls, and our biggest worry at the moment is how to deal with buck-toothed rodents nibbling on the food supply.
I can't help thinking of how hard Joss Whedon would be laughing right now. I think back to season seven of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the cryptic warning that echoed through the episodes: From beneath you, it devours.
We're in a tough spot and dealing with a lot of stuff at once. It's just frustrating and disheartening to have these kinds of setbacks all at once. I'm doing what I can, which includes taking Jess over to the annex to see the damage for herself. I don't want to strain her, but she insists.
We need to catch a break.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Islander
Posted by Josh Guess
I spent a lot of yesterday fighting. Jess insisted I go out with the small assault teams to clear some of the zombies away. It wasn't a pleasant job, but every body is needed. We had to clear enough undead away from the gates and draw large enough groups off so we could send out collection teams for supplies.
It sucked out loud, believe me. Patrick stayed with Jess, since he only has blacksmith duty most days what with him having the one hand and all. His workload varies, and the new plague has our need for freshly worked metal at a low point. Of all the people left in the world, I trust Pat with my life and my wife more than any other. Hell, I that much was
true before The Fall, too. Patrick Rooney is the best friend I could have asked for. Much like Jess herself, he's more than I deserve.
My team had the unenviable task of being first through the inner gate--the smaller, man-sized door set into the huge front gate--to clear away the few New Breed and old school zombies brave enough to come within bow range. They've seen that we aren't willing to waste arrows on stragglers at the moment and more of them edge closer all the time.
That part was fairly easy. The rest...
It was ugly work. Killing always is, even when it's zombies. We cleared the stragglers from the gate enough to let out three tanks, who took over the lion's share of the job. They led the larger forces of the undead away while those of us on foot fought the rest. The teams left out as we worked, and they won't be back for another day. They're loading up on firewood, which they have to cut, and hunting for fresh meat, and other sundries we'll need for an extended siege if it comes to that.
New Haven has been insulated from the outside to a large degree ever since the first perimeter defenses went up. With the construction of one wall and then another, even better one, the feeling that this place is an island has grown. Now that we're weaker than we've been in a long while and surrounded by the undead, it's almost impossible to feel any other way.
To a lesser degree, my house was starting to feel that way as well. I want to be there with Jess,need to hold her hand in her time of need, but I'm actually glad I got out and helped fight. I hadn't realized how isolated I was starting to feel after only a few days without my normal routine. I wasn't going out for a jog or trotting to the office to hand in reports. I was at home, working nonstop and only seeing the outside world through windows.
Before and after the fight, I managed to have some good conversations with my teammates. Two of them work in the annex most of the time, and they're helping handle the gopher problem. They've set traps and managed to capture a few of the little buggers. Apparently gopher makes a decent stew.
Another is a guard on the wall, and is one of the marauders who showed up with Kincaid. Guy's name is Darryl, he's in his forties, and he joined up with us because he wanted a safe place for his daughter. I had no idea some groups of marauders were families, but Darryl only joined with them for her. She's just sixteen. Though they've only been here a few months, she fell for a local boy. They had a small ceremony just yesterday, hands bound by ribbon and all that.
Even in hard times, love can bloom like roses in the cracks of concrete. Hellfire, love born in times like these? It's especially powerful, tempered like steel.
I know I've never loved my wife more.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Broiler
Posted by Josh Guess
Staying inside a shipping container when the sun is out sucks very, very badly. The interior of the thing gets hot quickly even when the air temperature outside is mild. That makes it difficult to keep the damn things cool and ventilated, which is a problem since we have a lot of our sick people set up in them.
Also, because the expansion--in all its boxy metal glory--is our new fallback point. Which means in a pinch, every inhabitant of New Haven will have to live in one of the things.
The first thing we considered was trying to set up another refrigeration system like the one our big freezer uses, but that isn't workable. One, the zombies outside the walls are still large in numbers, making attempts to go out and gather the supplies we'd need suicidal in difficulty. Two, even if we could find the parts to build more absorption refrigeration units (a big 'if', given how specialized some of the stuff is), we'd never be able to find enough to cover all the space we need. Three: only three people here know how to really build one, and we all have other work to do.
Realistically, it isn't going to happen. Other solutions, then.
I don't know what those might be, but we'll figure something out. For the last two years we've been dealing with the heat in our homes by opening all the windows that aren't covered by armor (though most of the houses including mine have been modified so the plates over the windows are removable) and letting the breeze come through. Granted, there's a huge difference between a thin metal box and a house with thick walls and shade.
For the moment we're setting up fans and running small generators, but we can't do that for long. Maybe if we use the modified genny, the one that runs on ethanol, we can manage for a good chunk of time. Fuel isn't quite at a premium yet, but we can't afford to use too much.
It's a conundrum. It bugs the hell out of me.
Normally I'd be out there looking at the problem. I'm working on it here at the house but it isn't quite the same. Visualization is important for me as a critical thinker. Maybe I've been too harsh and immobile in my stance to stay home whenever possible. Might be good for my brain to get out for a bit each day, kind of decompress and release the steam valves some. You know--not just to kill zombies.
Ugh. It's a slow, hot day, and I'm feeling cooped up. I think I will go out. See if Pat will come over for a bit and keep an eye on things, and get some perspective. I'll read reports and spend time on what should be a simple problem when I get back. I need to stretch my legs before I gnaw one of them off in frustration.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Awake
Posted by Josh Guess
This morning has been a good one for the people suffering from the new plague. Nine of them woke up feeling tired and weak, but otherwise well. All of them were folks that hadn't been hit particularly hard by the symptoms, which is the first time we've seen any uniformity in the progression or resolution of the illness.
There were a few good comments on yesterday's post, and we actually used one of them as part of a solution for keeping the makeshift hospital cooler. I'm a moron for not thinking of it myself, because there's a great example of it right across the river: sun screens. The Exiles have big-ass swaths of fabric to block our watchers from easily seeing what they're doing (which still isn't a lot) but they also help create shade for the fallback point.
We did the same, though ours are far more makeshift. We've got a big pile of pipes marked for eventual use, and slapping them together and sewing lots of fabric didn't take very long. We had a dozen people doing the work, two teams of six, and they went on for hours and hours. Made enough surface area to help a great deal, especially since Dave cut some more ventilation in the things.
My contribution was less useful. I suggested that we use some of our extra tanks of compressed air to move the muggy air inside around. It's not ideal, but it helps a little. This is a problem that will get worse as we get closer to July, so it's not like we're done working on it. But progress is progress.
The zombies outside have taken to attacking weakly guarded areas of the wall. At first our traps took a toll on them, but we can't risk sending people out to reset and rearm them, so there are more places in the perimeter where the undead can get close to the wall. It has the same feeling as previous assaults, as though they're testing us to gauge our reactions. I'm sure it isn't good news, but for the time being the New Breed aren't making any real effort to get over the wall. If they were, they'd be bringing in logs to use as scaling ladders or climbing over each other to get our people.
Since they can't really hurt us without those tactics, our guards and sentries have been ordered not to attack. We save every arrow, bullet, and moment of risk for a time when we can't help using them. We're in too precarious a position to be goaded into another offensive like the one we put on a few weeks ago.
More people are getting sick, but not in large numbers at any given time. Jess is still in an in-between state, not fully functional and healthy but still able to move around and get things done. I almost wish there would be some kind of change, just so the tension of waiting for the other shoe to drop, constant and pounding in the back of my head, would go away. Mind you, I want that to be for the better, so I need to knock on wood or dance to the moon spirits or something.
She is taking it
easier, though. With so many people ill and workloads reduced by necessity, there's less for her to do. I can't help feeling a strange variety of relief for that. It's terrible that we have to trim the number of projects we're working on to keep our healthy people from overtaxing themselves, but if it makes my wife feel the burdens of her responsibilities less, I'll take that silver lining.
Ah, she's awake. I hear her moving around in there. Going to go check on her and the others before I start their breakfast.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Men Overboard
Posted by Josh Guess
I've been focused on Jess and what's been happening around New Haven a lot lately, but some things just need a post all their own.
Our watchers brought a report in yesterday (at great personal risk, they've been making their way over the walls to keep an eye on the Exiles. Brave folks, considering the zombies outside...) that some major shifts have happened at the old fallback point. At dusk yesterday, a large group of Exiles made their way to the broken bridge where their leader, who I call Scar, murdered a guard who dared show us some small measure of respect.
