by Joshua Guess
Over a period of weeks, we gathered followers. Most of them were people we found out on the road. We took them in and everyone shared their supplies, and we hunted down what food and other gear we could find in the empty city we were staying in. The streets were running over with the undead, but we figured safety could be had if we stayed in buildings of stone and steel, high places that offered thick walls to protect us from the zombie swarms.
After going through the fourth such location, we decided we were wrong. The problem was that zombies always figured out where we were eventually, and the things that made those places secure also made them death traps. One or two entrances meant we got trapped indoors when the swarms came. If that happened while we were low on food or water, we went hungry and thirsty until the zombies gave up or we killed enough of them to escape. The last place we tried to call home was a modern art museum that had lots of huge glass windows at floor level. We put up lots of plywood in layers, even had the stuff on hinges and pulleys so we could just put a boot to them and turn them from defensive walls into ramps leading through the broken window frames. We were so clever.
That place we lost to fire. We might have survived there for a while had one of us not accidentally kicked a lantern over and set a bunch of the displays on fire. We ran like hell from that one, the whole floor we were on went up like a tinderbox. Everything we had except the clothes on our backs and whatever we could grab as we ran was gone. Very little food, almost no water. Just weapons and a powerful need to eat.
We left the city. And on the way out we saw a caravan of people traveling down the road toward us. They were in the distance, and one of the people with me had a terrible idea. We had been on foot for hours by that point and had been on half rations even before the fire. We couldn't have farmed where we were, no way to have made a long-term home. We deluded ourselves into thinking it was possible.
In our hunger, our despair, and our desperation, we took a vote. The 'ayes' had it. We set up an ambush and attacked that caravan. They were marauders, though more genteel than others I've met. They only robbed people. Didn't hurt them if it was avoidable, didn't rape or kill. Our blood was up, running hot in our veins. I can't explain it to you in a way that makes it palatable. We were in need, and we were running on empty. It didn't occur to us to risk asking for help, because that meant we could be turned down. The chance to go from dire need to abundance in a few short minutes was too enticing.
We killed them. All of them. And after that, things just kept going downhill. Once you've slaughtered a large number of people for their belongings, never having given them a chance to offer terms or surrender, your capacity to make rationalizations for any kind of behavior increases. Your moral convictions fuzz out. You convince yourself you've done what you had to do, regardless of reality.
From that singular moment of fiery rage at seeing people blessed with plenty sprang every other horrible call I've ever made.
Hm. I just read over this. I just had an idea, sort of a flash of inspiration. I need to check a few things out, but hopefully I'm on the right track. Yeah, that's confusing. But I don't want to mention what it is until I know for sure that I'm right.
Might be back tomorrow, or Josh. Either way, I'm glad I got to get some of this off my chest. I feel better for the chance to be honest with so many of you at one time. Not better about what I've done, really, but just to clear the air. I'm not some smug asshole gloating at having gotten away with my actions. They weigh on me, and I just wanted you to know.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Fighting With Fire
Posted by Josh Guess
Hey, all. It's Kincaid again. Josh is feeling better but decided to let me write today's blog as a sort of victory lap. I'll explain, but I guess the best way to sum up the last day and his reasoning for giving me another chance to post can be summed up simply.
I kind of cured the new plague yesterday.
Yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are. Like I said, I've been reading the blog and catching up on it during my stay here. While I was talking about the fire that put my group and I on the wrong path, I remembered reading some of Josh's posts about experimenting on his captive zombies. The New Breed are very susceptible to heat, even just very hot days like we've had recently.
I went back and read those posts. Then I asked Josh if I could see his notes from the experiments.
This was the part of his notes that made me pretty sure I was right:
"Tissues of the New Breed subjects tend to soften and become more pliable at temperatures above 130 degrees F. The hotter they get, the faster the tissues weaken, and the curve looks pretty steep."
So I talked to Josh about it, and he talked to his brother Dave and Will. Will talked to the council. All of that within two hours. Took Dave about twenty minutes after getting approval from the council to set up a rough version of my idea, which isn't an original one. People have been using them for centuries.
Our cure is a makeshift sauna. It's not a perfect solution because so many people are so weak, but one of the first to volunteer for it was Jess. Josh still isn't 100% but he sat in there with her for almost half an hour. We had to heat up stones with fire to do it. Makes the thing inefficient, but the thermometer in the tiny room read about 160 degrees. Sunlight and hot days helped a lot.
Jess is better. That was all it took. My small flash of inspiration came with another thought, which was that the people who keep waking up totally fine are probably developing huge temperatures while they sleep. That's why some wake up okay--the fever is caused by the worsening new plague attacking the original zombie plague already in their lungs, and the fever helps win the war--or they die in their sleep. Because it was too much for their bodies.
It was a guess. An inspired guess built on the work of other people. I just had an idea. I'm really glad I was right, not because I want recognition or anything. Just because it helps my people.
You really are my people, you know. I'm not a brave guy. I still get that weak feeling all over me and a ball of ice in my stomach when I'm in danger. I want to live. But if I died tomorrow, nothing I could do to stop it, I could at least take solace in the fact that I've done something to help. Maybe it's a start toward making up for the things I've done.
It's risky and dangerous, but so is the new plague itself. But it's hope. Sometimes, that's all we have.
Most times, that's enough.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Trending Upward
Posted by Josh Guess
Wow. What an eventful few days it's been. This is Josh again, by the way. I know our issues with not being able to create a login for Kincaid and him having to use my account is a little confusing. Just wanted to make things clear.
I'm feeling better if not at a hundred percent yet. Mind you, I'd be happy with just about any illness at this point given how lucky I've been. My wife is better, my fellow citizens are slowly being treated with nothing more than hot air and getting better because of it, and the unrelenting heatwave of the last few days has kept our walls virtually free of zombies. On top of that, we've had a communication from the Exile camp at the fallback point. They want to strengthen the truce. They have new leadership that wants to head in a new direction.
All told, it's been a damn good week. I don't expect it to last.
I hope it does, make no mistake. But I've seen too much betrayal, stupidity, and human nature to have any concrete belief that everything will go the right way. Life isn't about things going how you want. While that would be safer, it would also be incredibly boring.
Which reminds me, I want to tell you a story. I thought about this very topic while I was laid up, and it seems fitting to this post.
I once knew a girl. She was a brilliant chick, always top of her class, always succeeding. She grew up in a family that Had Money. Not the comfortable upper-middle to bottom-upper class money you might think about when I say that. They had a lot of it. Enough that when she was accepted to the school
of her dreams, tuition wasn't even a blip on her radar. She went to college, eventually accepted into a premed program.
The point is, everything she ever did, she succeeded at. And that made me so sad for her. At first I was a bit jealous. I wasn't given a new car for my sixteenth birthday, or anything like that. But I got over that crap. My mom worked her ass off for us and my siblings and I never wanted for anything. No, it made me sad because all her life, this girl never faced a struggle. She never knew what it was like to be hungry, to truly fail at something.
I bet you're thinking that I'm going to say that when The Fall happened, she wasn't prepared and she died. You're wrong.
The girl went to medical school. And in the first week of her residency, she made a mistake. Someone died as a result. Tormented by that and completely without a coping mechanism, she took her own life. This was just before The Fall. She was only twenty-five years old. Poor girl skipped grades, went to college early, and had a bright future ahead of her.
It wasn't anyone's fault. Her parents only wanted a life for her that was filled with less pain and exhausting effort than their own had been. Should she have given up the opportunities she had? Of course not. In the truest sense of the word, her death was a tragedy. No blame to be found.
But there was a reason. I think we all see it.
For all the terrible things we've suffered, we've proven ourselves equal to the task. Not because we are stronger than she was, or smarter, or somehow better. We are none of those things. She slaved away night and day to learn and to be the best. But a life of work and isolation put her in the rare and curious position of not having any emotional callouses. No coping mechanisms. No way to quantify and understand the agony she was in.
She didn't have people like you. She hadn't been through the things we've all endured. I know that over the last two and a half years or so, I'd have gone insane a dozen times over without Jess and without you all. We'll face hard times again and we'll work together to make those days easier. Let's always try to keep perspective.
We suffer, we hurt, we starve, we fail. We make mistakes and sometimes they have consequences we can't imagine. It's when those things happen that we have to turn to one another and remember that together we can always work to make it better.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Family Matters
Posted by Josh Guess
We've had an eventful weekend. Severe windstorms Friday night and severe thunderstorms the whole time since have sidelined my ability to post. Sorry about that, but I'm willing to bet a good number of you out there haven't had the ability to access any sort of communications in that time, so we'll call it a wash.
The harsh weather and brutal heat (in the hundreds again) conspired to keep most of us inside. Sure, there were guards and sentries out on the walls, but only a skeleton crew. We're still enjoying an extended break from zombie attacks because of the heat. Most of us hung out in our homes or those of our friends, working on small projects and generally spending time together.
I'm really glad for the inclement weather. It gave me a chance to meet someone new and to get a better understanding of what family is.
Her name is Judy. She's one of the few older folks in New Haven. I don't know what her age is exactly, but her hair is more gray than not and she has the worldly air of a person who has Seen Things. In the constant bustle of activity as we've dealt with the new plague (the treatments for which are going fairly well), dealing with the New Breed zombies incessantly buzzing our walls (though no right now, ha!) and the hundred other details of daily life, I missed the fact that Judy took over the education of New Haven's children when Aaron left.
She's a funny lady. She talks fast, corrects herself often, and never shies away from uncomfortable truths, even ones about her. By sheer chance she was over at my house last night as Jess, Becky, Patrick, and I played cards by candlelight. She was good conversation. I learned a lot about her, and since I'd only met her once or twice since she joined New Haven, there was a lot to learn.
She was a teacher before The Fall, but other than the fact that she has taken on that same role recently, her history before the world fell apart is mostly irrelevant. What caught my attention is how, since coming here, she's made herself everyone's favorite aunt. Not in a biological sense, of course, since she has no family here. Judy always made herself available to watch kids or to help out when someone was sick or injured. She spent a tremendous amount of her free time doing this. Flittering between houses, using her personal time helping out. Just amazing.
To be honest I'm not quite sure how she ended up at the house last night. I think Pat might have invited her to join in the card game. It's been a while since the zombie threat has been low enough and people have been healthy enough to allow for a little R&R. When she showed up I expected to deal her in. Instead she chatted with us as she made snacks and filled drinks, laughing at our dirty jokes and telling far, far dirtier ones of her own.
I asked her why she does it, why she tends toward serving others rather than sitting back and relaxing. She told me that she has always been that way, and loves to see the little bits of happiness that she brings people. It was a simple answer and a good one.
People see her as family. Judy has become a part of many people's lives in New Haven. Not in a huge, flashing-neon-sign kind of way, but with a thousand small acts of love. In a way it's a microcosm of New Haven itself; she supports the group, the group supports her. She has become family in the ways that matter.
Many of us are that way. Family was and is important to me. Before The Fall, my extended family was gigantic and spread out all over the place. That didn't stop us from keeping in touch and caring about what was going on in our respective lives. I've been blessed (and damn lucky) that so many of my family members have survived, but I never forget how many have passed on. In some small way, New Haven itself has become a surrogate for those who have gone on. Though I have actual family here, it feels like many of my friends and neighbors have become family as well. I feel that deep sense of belonging, anyway.
Maybe I'm just blathering at this point, but I can't help thinking that by helping nurture this place and by putting so much of myself into it, that I've given my family a small portion of immortality. Though most of them are gone, their spirit and values live on here.
We live and die for one another. We help when others need it, and get help when we need it. There are shoulders to cry on, ready hands to shake in moments of triumph, and words of comfort when we fail. If that ain't family, I don't know what is.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Breeze In
Posted by Josh Guess
The early hours of the morning got fairly cool. With that surprising chill wind came the New Breed. You almost wonder if they were just waiting for it to come for us. All in all it wasn't a bad one, though the New Breed did manage to get over the wall in one place. We still had minimal crew there this morning, but we were prepared. Everyone knew to secure their homes before they went to sleep, and the standing order was for our guards to pull back from the wall if they found themselves badly outnumbered.
Not that it was all that risky. The New Breed were...not right. Maybe it's being so damn hungry, but I tend to think they're getting hit with the new plague. I remember that attack quite a while back where the zombies hitting us seemed like they were sick. I'm willing to bet the new plague was the culprit. Our research at the time seems to bear that out, and the ones Gabrielle cut up this morning have the same symptoms.
But you know, it's actually way more important to me how well we reacted to this assault. Weeks have gone by without a major fight, and when it comes more than three dozen zombies actually get inside New Haven. Our people did exactly what they were supposed to do, and those who were on call to respond to the bells were efficient and careful. House-to-house fighting in the dark, chasing down stragglers, and not one of our people was killed. A few minor injuries, sure, but that's a small price to pay.
I've said many times that getting complacent is a sure way to get dead. I think we've reached a point where we no longer have to put much effort into reacting to danger. We're practiced enough at it that it's now second nature. Sort of like learning to drive; at first you're shaky and concentrating way too hard, but eventually you just get into the flow and do it. We're there.
There are a lot of big things just over the horizon that I want to talk about. I'm hoping that by tomorrow or the day after at latest I'll have the go-ahead to share. There have been plans in motion for a long time that are finally coming to fruition. It's not a matter of 'if' anymore, only 'when'.
I hate to be vague, but I don't have much choice.
Ah. Shit.
Alarm bells again. Short pattern. Another breach.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Fallback
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm writing this from New Haven's expansion and fallback point. Because yeah, yesterday's attack was unexpectedly fierce. Everyone has been evacuated into the expansion. Even as I write this, teams are scouring the main section of New Haven for zombies.
Basically we were hit with a tight column of undead that slammed into a single point on the wall like a spear. The front section, the tip of the spear, was mainly composed of old school zombies pressed into attacking by the New Breed behind them. Inside the thick line of attackers were zombies carrying logs to use as ramps, just like the night before. They came in fast and way too concentrated for our people to hold off. If there hadn't been two hundred of them focusing on that one spot to overwhelm us, I'd have called it a suicide run.
