by Joshua Guess
We've got a lull at night and in the dawn hours right now. It won't last (based on how fair the universe has been to us so far) but we won't despair. New Haven might not be the best place for a new group of displaced kids at the moment, but we're far from helpless and will do everything in our power to repair and upgrade our defenses while conditions allow.
I may not be in the chain of command, and certainly not a 'need to know' person in any event, but I know this much: the whole point of these expansions is to become stable. To become more. To build NH into a place that can keep kids safe and act as a platform on which we can make a better tomorrow. If that trip down the timestream comes with disappointments like these, then we'll just have to learn to take them in stride. My hope is that we'll gain some determination and commitment from our small setbacks so that we never have to err into large ones.
Maybe I'm just trying to find a silver lining, as if those kids going to a place specializing in the kind of care they need in an environment rich with other children wasn't reason enough to be happy.
If so, then I guess I can't help but shrug. I'm okay with self-delusion as a means of coping. People have been doing it since the dawn of human sentience, after all.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Next Wave
Posted by Josh Guess
I didn't even know they were coming, to be frank with you. Not that I would've said anything on here if I had, but it's still strange and different not to know these things. In this case sort of freeing in the sense that I didn't have to hold a secret back at all.
So, yes. The next wave of settlers arrived yesterday. This is a smaller group than the first wave--there were five hundred of them, you may remember--mostly because of the slow pace of the expansion relative to the speed we wanted to work at, and also because of the thick layer of undead now trundling around the county.
This group was about a hundred strong, and they came in yesterday. Knowing they were going to be dealing with a lot of zombies, they came prepared to fight. What impresses me most isn't the calm and capable way they did the fighting, but the adaptability and thoroughly planned method they fought with. I watched a lot of it happen from the walls. I was in a guardhouse, acting as a spotter. My little way of contributing to the fight without risking anyone else by panicking at the wrong time.
Dodger coordinated the assault, and it was impressive. For all their toughness and intelligence, the New Breed can't seem to overcome some basic biological facts. Fire is still something that throws them off and scares them. Massive confusion and overwhelming numbers do it, too. They trade off the mindlessness of the old school zombies and their relentless nature for cleverness but the many fears that come with intelligence.
Our people usually don't start fights with the New Breed. There are always a lot of them out there, and yesterday we made sure to draw in a good number of them with scouts acting as bait. The idea was to kill as many as possible as close to New Haven as we could, in order to leave behind whatever death-scent it is that drives them away for a time. That way we could bring in more waves after this one.
So our archers and riflemen (and riflewomen, as Jess and a few other ladies decided to kick off the rust and fire away from the watchtowers) let loose on the gathered dead. The archers fired over the buffer and into the bodies massed on the other side. things were getting heavy, the cables of the buffer starting to show strain when the scouts burst from the woods on their dirt bikes. Behind them came hundred of zombies, enough to overwhelm sections of the buffer.
All of this was happening at the north gate of central (original) New Haven. The walls are stone and strong, and we thought it would be a good idea to fight them where we're mighty.
The scouts shot away and scurried into hidey holes set up for them, and the mass of New Breed and old school zombies following them pressed into the hordes already in front of us. That was when a section of the buffer gave out, causing hundreds of them to spill into the space between the buffer and the wall.
Just like we planned.
One weakened section of buffer later, the zombies were trapped where we wanted them. It was dangerous as hell, and a constant fire from the walls was needed to keep them from overwhelming us. That, and the traps we'd placed in the night. Then the next wave came at them from behind, using the gap in the buffer as a bottleneck, and the fight moved our direction.
It was beautiful to watch. Lovely and terrible.
I didn't feel a moment of anxiety as I watched it happen, either. I don't know what that means, but I'll lean toward optimism and say it's a good thing.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Foothold
Posted by Josh Guess
If I'm to give a true and honest history of New Haven here, albeit one seen through my eyes and mostly about my own experiences, I'd be shirking my duty not to point out the ramifications of the major victory we had over the New Breed the other day. I was still riding the high of winning in my last post and left out some pertinent information.
We didn't kill all the undead in the county, obviously. Our gamble paid off and a large number of them are gone now, but it's just enough for our beaters and assault teams to gain a foothold outside of New Haven again. At a very generous estimate Dodger says we took out maybe a third of the local population. Not for free, either. Lives were lost, injuries sustained. Some of those people may be permanently crippled.
The cost in lives and able bodies is far outweighed by the good. I don't say that with the cold calculation I once felt while making those kinds of statements. This was an incredibly dangerous operation where a lot of things could go wrong. We expected to lose thirty people. Deaths and injuries combined, the number was less than half that.
And since this is a quasi-historical document now, I should point out the trend in those numbers. Over the last few years we've had setback after setback, but one of the constant truths is that we've become better at keeping our people alive each time. Enough time and practice makes warriors of the least of us. In a fight as complex as the one we had here the other day, with hand-to-hand combat among the zombies, we should have suffered bitter losses. We couldn't have even attempted such a thing two years ago. Twelve months before now we'd have taken forty deaths as a pretty good defense in the circumstances.
We're getting really, really good at this. The cost is high and terrible, comes with a lot of baggage, but that's relatively short term. We won't be able to play that same trick again any time soon now that the New Breed who survived the slaughter have seen it. We've eliminated a lot of the their number and that gives us some wiggle room for the expansion and for our teams, but once the shock and the death smell wears off we'll have to tango with newly enraged and united zombies.
We're sort of threading the needle as far as the future goes. We've bought a narrow window of time where it's not prohibitively dangerous to work on the next section of the expansion (I'm going to name the parts of New Haven on my day off tomorrow, and maybe draw a map so you guys can see. We're getting big enough to need it, now) but the only way we don't face terrible days of endless assaults after that window has closed is if we're nearly perfect during it. Our beaters need to strike often and brilliantly at the undead. Our workers need to build quickly. The next big wave has to come in on schedule and fight as well as the others who came before them.
Many other things. Tons of factors. If we screw up it isn't going to be the end of the world (again). It'll just be hard on us and mess up a lot of our long-term plans. It isn't a case of be perfect or die, we're way beyond that. It's be near-perfect or suffer.
I'm heading to the clinic now. I'm not doing duty there, not providing care like I used to. I'm just going to spend some time with the injured--especially the new arrivals--and get to know some of them. There's man I hear who lost his foot. I might see if he's interested in any of New Haven's full-time labor jobs that don't require much walking. If not, I'll just talk. Sometimes an friendly voice is just what you need when everyt
hing seems at its worst.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Writing In The Sky
Posted by Josh Guess
I wasn't aware until yesterday, but apparently there have been a full compliment of watchers stationed above the fallback point even though the Exiles mostly abandoned it. The skeleton crew left behind don't appear to be much of a threat, but the apocalypse didn't raise no fools. Better to err on the side of caution than get nasty surprises in the form of seemingly harmless cowards suddenly going kamikaze when we weren't looking.
So imagine my surprise to see smoke signals from that area in the early afternoon. The signals aren't an emergency alert. There are radios for that. Instead, the bonfires act as a means of telling New Haven about specific changes across the river without the chance of the message getting intercepted. In this case, the message in question was simple but important:
Exiles returning to the Fallback point.
Not just a few or even a few groups, but a hell of a lot of them. They didn't show up and immediately mobilize for war, but the camp over there looks ready for action. From what the watchers report--the general populace was warned as a matter of course--it seems the Exiles returning home aren't being welcomed by those who never left.
Interesting, if true, though I don't know what the ramifications might be for the people over there. We're too removed from the situation to understand their politics in the least.
What it means for us is a whole new level of readiness in case some shit goes down. The Exiles have declared war on us in as few words as possible. That the other side of the river appears to be a powder keg of possibilities only means we're preparing for as many of them as possible. For now we're all on high alert, but not taking any action against them. Not because they don't deserve it, but because being aggressive with the enemy at this point would be a waste of resources and would show our hand before absolutely necessary.
Will stopped by after a marathon council meeting to see how the news hit me. I'm still surprised at how often he checks in on me. He's a busy guy, and I've seen him as our governor for so long now and in so many situations that it's difficult to remember him as anything else. It bears repeating that Will himself still vividly recalls being a prisoner and a cog in the machine that made New Haven work. Being in charge is still strange and unreal to him no matter how long or well he has done the job.
We chatted for almost an hour, and I found myself surprisingly zen about the whole ordeal. The Exiles may attack. They might not. If they do, it's not as though we won't have warning. We've got a serious numbers advantage to their superior firepower. Addled though I might be, my brain still zeroes in on the hard calculation required for survival.
I found myself feeling prematurely bad for any of them we might have to kill, if indeed it does come down to a fight. But I didn't feel guilty. I still don't know that I would hold up in a combat situation where I had to fight a living person, but there isn't a sense of responsibility there. No shame or self-doubt. Only regret at the necessity of it. Maybe the real thing would be totally different, I don't know. But not being crushed by it inside my own head is nice.
I've been thinking about that a lot. Needing to be able to act decisively in that kind of situation. There are aspects I hadn't considered before. I'll get into that tomorrow, assuming war doesn't break out in the mean time.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Motive To Kill
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm sleep-deprived and the shittiest part of the end of the world--the lack of caffeine--means that my mental acuity isn't getting any artificial boosts. Yesterday I mentioned that my unsure reaction to violence and having to fight had larger implications than I originally thought. That wasn't quite accurate. Instead I should say that it has more personal implications.
Yeah, I want to be able to stand up for the community. But what the hell happens if I'm out in the world at some point with Jess and freeze up? There are numerous situations that might arise (the Exiles returning first among them at the moment) that might lead to us having to flee New Haven. Hell, it might not be anything so extreme. What if we're called to visit one of our allied communities or something? What if we have a skillset required for a particular recovery trip with our scouts?
Everything has consequences. Every action has a reaction, a domino effect that ripples forward as unstoppable as the tide. Not all of them are bad, obviously, but I can't imagine me being crippled by anxiety when trying to defend my wife could end well.
Over the last month or so I've spent a lot of time talking to people about my problems. I've written an inordinate amount of words about it on here. I still believe it isn't inherently right or wrong to feel as I do. Self-recrimination won't solve the problem. And this is a problem. I accept that my issues exist as a set of reactions to the world around me and the terrible things I've seen and done. I can't undo them.
No amount of therapy is going to make those feelings go away entirely. I will never be able to know how my reactions will play out until I test them, and I don't want that test to put someone I love at risk. I can learn to be at peace with my situation over time and I plan on working toward that.
It's also possible for me to do that and bypass the risk that comes with my fear of facing combat. When I was a kid I got over my fear of spiders by making it a point to approach them when I saw them. I hated it. I cried. The terror pushing me to run away was almost a singularity, it was so powerful. I didn't give in to it then.
Steve has had the right idea by taking me to the holding area and making me fight the undead. He began the process of rebuilding the emotional callouses I need--that all of us need--to make it in the world today. It isn't a pretty reality, but it's the only one we have. My friends are showing me a lot of love and giving me total support, but I need to know that I will do the right thing if my loved ones are threatened. If I'm against the wall and no one is there to back me up, can I stand true?
It's a good thing people have an incredible capacity for cognitive dissonance. Maintaining the separate mental constructs that A) I need to heal slowly, over time, and come to grips with my breakdown and B) that I need to be able to ignore the pain of my emotional scars in an emergency, is going to be hard. But I can do it.
The how is another monster entirely. I've killed a few dozen zombies in the last several weeks with Steve. Not a lot of human beings around to murder out of hand. So today I start training my body and mind together. First step is combat with a living person. People, actually. I'm joining in on the practice sessions our assault teams and full-time defenders do every day. They aren't going to use any kid gloves. I don't want them to.
I think I can do this. I have to try. Without that vital edge, one mistake could cost me everything I hold dear.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Strike Two
Posted by Josh Guess
Last night we learned of another small community wiped off the map. This time it wasn't a total rout; the occupants of the community in question managed to field a decent counterattack. It was enough resistance to allow about half the population there to escape. The rest died in the effort.
As with Benton, whoever hit the place didn't leave much behind. Buildings burned down, storage ransacked, anything of value that couldn't be carted or driven away was put to the torch. Hearing this news and thinking about it right now, I'm not having an especially hard time feeling violent toward people. Not at all, really.
This is something new in our experience. We've all dealt with marauders catching people unawares on the road. Most groups of survivors have made war with others, usually locals, who try to take over their homes. We haven't seen a concentrated effort by a single group to attack homesteads and destroy them utterly. It's calculated, precise, and effective. It's scaring the hell out of people.
Larger places like New Haven clearly don't have to worry about these people just yet. The difference in the fight sixty or seventy will give you and the one y
ou'll deal with against seven or eight hundred is the difference between a bonfire and a forest fire. It's too bad the attacks are happening far enough away that we can't easily field search teams. I'd love to know they've been hunted down and shot. Like I said, wouldn't mind shooting them myself at present.
No one should worry about their home being attacked by human enemies. I know that's unrealistic to the point of stupidity, but come on. What kind of fucking world do we live in that we, the survivors of the apocalypse, need to fear other people? There are too few of us left and the odds are stacked against us so high that any threat within our control as living people shouldn't even be a consideration. There is literally no logical reason for marauders to exist, no need for these attacks.
Maybe right after The Fall, sure. I could see that. Resource hoarding and fear of outsiders was rampant. Conditions have grown better, though. People everywhere are farming, hunting, and communities are growing. Why do these kinds of people keep doing this? What solution, what magic words, will finally make them overcome the inherent stupidity and greed of human nature and stop?
I wish I knew. I'd give anything for a solution. This is a waste, and it has to end one way or another.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Breaches
Posted by Josh Guess
Quick note to let you all know what's going on. It's chaos here, has been since yesterday morning. Communications just got back up. We were hit, multiple breaches in the wall. All in one section of New Haven, thank god. Buffer protected the wall from some of the damage. Casualties but numbers unknown. We've been working to fight off the undead and plug the holes in the walls. The enemy seems to be the ones who've been hitting small communities. We have captives. But we're damaged.
