American Recovery

by Joshua Guess

  One decision leads to three others, and it all spiderwebs out from there. It's neat, and frustrating, and gives me a deeply positive feeling about tomorrow. So long as we can keep those fucking zombies away. Not to mention living enemies.

  Sunday, November 25, 2012

  Stranger Danger

  Posted by Josh Guess

  One of our allies to the south reported last night that the strangers were seen out in the open not far away from where our friends have settled down. I won't give location details (because we're pretty sure the strangers read this blog) but let's just say it's far, far away from where we suspect these unknown people come from.

  One thing is now certain: they're definitely after supplies, and in large amounts. There is a fuel stockpile very close to where the allies in question have settled, and it is incredibly large. The Strangers (there I go, capitalizing the name. I really need to come up with a better one...) approached the area as a large group, with a dozen fuel tankers supported by twice as many armored vehicles and scouts on motorcycles. They hit a series of mild traps designed to ward off zombies, turned tail, and ran. Which is surprising for a group using so much military hardware. It's not like sharpened sticks and magnesium flares did any real damage to their vehicles, but they ran anyway.

  Again, it's hard to say much without giving away the game, but now we know the Strangers are well-informed. They know where some major caches are hidden and they're trying to capture what they can, though apparently aren't willing to risk much danger to do it.

  There is another such large fuel cache north of us, which leads me to mention a brave group of people. A guy by the name of Ketill is roaming around the countryside with his band of people, heavily armed but nearly impossible to catch. They're not marauders, but simply survivors that have decided to move about instead of staying anchored down. Ketill has been reporting in when his people see anything suspicious, and he heard of a group of Strangers turning back from moving through this area.

  They were headed north. Maybe they couldn't handle the insanely cold weather up this way and realized it would be much worse as they moved further toward their goal. More likely, they spotted a scout patrol or one of Ketill's people and spooked back home. Doesn't really matter, I guess. Because put the two together and it's a damn good bet that they're after the fuel cache up north.

  Tomorrow I'll be able to tell you more about that, because certain things will be set in motion by then, but for now I can't say much else. All I can tell you is that we've got a better idea of what kinds of things they're after, and now we're taking steps to...mitigate any potential losses. I'll know by tomorrow morning how successful that effort will be, and how much of an impact it will have on New Haven. Until then I'm going to try not to get very excited.

  The insane cold here has had one excellent benefit: the undead aren't nearly as active over at the Box, which has allowed a lot of work to get done. In fact, this morning several of the lads working over that way had an idea: use the cold to create a barrier against the zombies. Since the fire hydrants over there are fed by the water tower, there's still plenty of pressure. Our boys and girls hooked up a few hoses and drenched that parking lot, turning it into a sheet of ice except for the narrow lane needed to bring in trucks.

  I'm told people were betting on which zombie would fall first as they stumbled and slid across the makeshift ice rink, which ones would go farthest, and a handful of other criteria based on their hatred of the undead. I wish I could have seen it. Sounds hilarious.

  Monday, November 26, 2012

  Reserves

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Now that our people are moving out in force, I can tell you a few secrets. For the record, I've been given full permission to do this, because it's nearly impossible that the Strangers are unaware given the reports we've had of multiple groups of them spotting our people moving north.

  For quite a long time now, we've been receiving large shipments of fuel from North Jackson. New Haven and NJ have taken great pains to hide that fact, because we didn't want people outside our group of allied communities realizing what we were doing.

  Not long after Jack himself founded NJ and brought his people together, they began regular runs to a particular set of towns in the far northeast of the country. New England has very few people left, at least after that first brutal winter without the niceties of modern technology, and most of the people we've encountered there have chosen to move on. The reason NJ makes regular runs to that area is because of the Northeast Fuel Reserve.

  Several million gallons of fuel, from gasoline to diesel to a particular kind of heating oil. We haven't made much of a dent in that supply, nor have the people who still manage to struggle through the harsh weather in the area. We've given them first call on the supply there, and from what I gather they've been trucking barrels of fuel out for days. I hope they've moved enough for their immediate needs, because even though what we've taken so far and what we plan to take very soon doesn't account for nearly a majority of the fuel, we're now certain that the Strangers are going to hit the reserve with everything they have.

  The groups of Strangers we've seen have sometimes peeled away and retreated when faced with any kind of threat. Some have run back home, others merely falling back and finding different, safer routes. So far we've been fortunate; they haven't struck the reserve with great numbers. Now that NJ soldiers are nearly there with their trucks and tankers, we're hopeful that our own people will be able to join them soon and present too large a threat for the Strangers to handle. If all goes well, we should be able to move many tens of thousands of gallons of fuel with the huge fleet of vehicles we've put together.

  I realize that by posting this blog I'm giving away one of our great secrets, but the truth is that the only people who matter that might not have known about this are the Strangers themselves. Our allies all knew because we were hiding shipments of fuel inside every trade caravan. And now that the...I hesitate to call the Strangers enemies, because they haven't attacked us, but they certainly aren't friends...

  Now they clearly know about the reserve without my help. There's nothing for it but to move as much fuel as possible and hope for the best. My question is this: if they're so desperate for fuel, how and why are they travelling across so much of the damn continent to get it? They can't be so low on gas that they need it so badly, or they wouldn't be traversing a dozen states or more to steal it. It's curious, and only made worse by the fact that they're not desperate enough to fight for the prize.

  They don't act like most survivors I know, and that bothers me. It's cold here and magnitudes colder in the north, which is slowing the zombies down all around. But even the thin bands of the undead able to combat the frigid air are enough to turn away the Strangers.

  When you think that I went for a jog at dawn this morning, running outside the wall from the main gate of Central to the north secondary gate of East--killing two straggling zombies along the way--and no one found that odd or dangerous, you have to wonder at these people. I mean, sure, I was wearing light armor since I'm not an idiot, and I'd checked to make sure the way was relatively clear. But what kind of people in this world are so terrified of the undead that they won't drive their big-ass armored trucks anywhere close to them?

  I've got theories, of course. But I'll save them for another post. I'm likely to go on for another thousand words on that subject alone of I don't stop now. It is extremely curious, though. Maybe I'll invite Will and a few others over for lunch and we'll have a palaver about it.

  Wednesday, November 28, 2012

  Shirts and Skins

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I don't know why, but when Ketill first told me this story, I laughed. Just the idea of it, the sheer absurdity and brilliance of the act, made me chuckle. Most of us have had to slap some zombie goo on ourselves in an emergency.

  These guys went above and beyond, and I asked Ketill to write about it for you. Here you go:

  Okay, fi
rst off introductions. My name is Ketill and as Josh pointed out a couple of posts ago I'm the leader of a small group of survivors that basically roam around the country looking to help those that have decided to settle down in one location or another. Survivors, mind you. Not Marauders. Everyone in my group is ex-military in one way or the other and together we have managed to accrue an impressive amount of firepower. I could tell you about a few of the more daring events that we've been caught up in the past, but I'll save those for another time.

  What I wanted to tell you today is that since I've been in contact with New Haven's leaders (and Josh of course), we were asked to help run interference for the convoy to North Jackson. Well, we have done that in a most peculiar manner. We used camouflage to deter the Strangers.

  Now, I know you're probably wondering someone along the lines of "if you used camouflage, then how did you deter them"? The answer to that would be deviously evil if we weren't using already dead things. A few of my group members were in special ops and infiltration units back when the world needed them, and devised something sinister for the Strangers. What they did was caught and killed a couple dozen zombies (a few of them New Breed) and showed the rest of us how to carefully "...strip the skin off the body" so that it could be worn. I will have a serious talk with those guys when I get the chance, as I really didn't know that about them.

  Well, after getting about twenty of our people in the "zuits", short for zombie suits (disgustingly evil, I know), the rest of us (minus our scouts) hid ourselves and waited. A few minutes later, we heard the sound of engines coming and knew the Strangers (you really need a new word for them, Josh) were approaching. As soon as they saw our little zombie herd they stopped. I know Josh has recounted sightings of them just turning tail at the sight of Zombies, but I guess we found a curious scout patrol. They walked up to our zombies (because our people were just standing there doing nothing) until they were within a hundred yards or so. That's when we sprung our trap.

  The "zuit" units raised their guns and leveled them at the Strangers just as the rest of us came out of hiding between them and their vehicle. There was nothing for them to do. They dropped their weapons and put their hands up. Thing is, we didn't capture them. We stripped them and their vehicle of anything useful and sent them packing, with a message. We told them that if their group valued their lives, they would leave New Haven, its populace and its allies the hell alone or we would come down there and give them a reason to question their actions. The look on the driver's face was priceless as he drove off. I bet he was thinking that if we were crazy enough to do what we did with the dead, then what would we do to the living?

  Turns out they broadcast what happened to the rest of their group, because later we heard reports of a dozen vehicles turning tail and going somewhere else. Guess it pays to have a few crazies on our team.

  Now to go deal with them....

  Thursday, November 29, 2012

  Shadowchaser

  Posted by Josh Guess

  There are a lot of bits of news to update you on. Exciting things, good things, and all of them have to do with New Haven.

  There are a few bad parts, too. Sad happenings, some surprising and some expected. Also having to do with New Haven.

  I will tell all of them to you, but not today. Today is about puzzles and how we see them.

  The Strangers (yes, I've kinda given up on a better name at this point) have been nipping around all over the country for at least the last several weeks, though we're pretty sure it has been a lot longer than that. Lots of theories about their motivations and goals. There is a lot of confusion about their actions, because based on what we've seen, they just don't make sense as people. Every shred of logical observation we have suggests that these people were civilians before The Fall, yet they drive around willy-nilly in ridiculously high-end military vehicles.

  If they've managed to overtake a military installation, then they're crazy dangerous. But if the Strangers have that kind of iron in them, why do they run from fights, even with the undead? It's a mystery. A jigsaw puzzle that--as of this morning--we're just beginning to see the shape of. Just the edges of the pieces so far, but this morning the picture is clearer.

  Our long-range scouts made a trip home recently, refueled, and went back out. Because they're dedicated and super sneaky, they were able to follow a group of Strangers all the way back home. Not close enough to see where the Strangers hang their heads, but within a mile or so. And wouldn't you know, that particular group stopped in one of the towns that holds the southern national fuel reserve. Yeah, that's a thing, too.

  We don't think it's where they all live, just a small group that moves the fuel around. There have to be a lot of these folks and our scouts didn't see signs of a community big enough to house more than a few dozen. They've got access to a tremendous stockpile of fuel, even larger than the one we've been tapping in the northeast. That's how they've been able to move around so much without worrying about gas.

  The problem with having one question answered is that usually that information takes you deeper down the rabbit hole. The mystery gets deeper because things make even less sense. If they're sitting on millions of gallons of fuel (at least potentially; that area of the country is more populated than our neck of the woods) then why on god's green earth do they need even more? What possible motivation could there be to move so far away from home and risk any number of dangers (not that they seem to risk much, the cowards) when they've got so much of what they need near at hand?

  Irritating, but there you have it. Observations from the scouts nearly guarantee that these aren't military. They've got minimal discipline while in the outside world. Plenty of caution, but there's very little logic to how they camp and set schedules. They're chaotic but nonviolent. Makes my head hurt. It's like seeing a small herd of bunnies hopping around between a huge pack of rabid dogs but somehow managing to survive.

  But for nearly three years? I don't know how that could be possible.

  At the very least we know they aren't trying to overthrow any of our allied communities. They've got the gear, they've got the fuel, but they don't seem to have the fighting spirit to have a go at us. I guess it's possible they don't have plans in that direction, but they have to know that stealing from other survivors is tantamount to firing the first shot. We don't take to that kind of shit well at all.

  Confusing, curious, and maddeningly interesting to me. I'm open to thoughts and ideas. Hit me with theories. Maybe we'll stumble across something that makes sense. I feel like I'm chasing shadows at dusk, trying to figure this out.

  Saturday, December 1, 2012

  Contrast

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Sorry about the hiccup yesterday. Sometimes you just sleep on through, and it was a long night before that. I spent most of the previous evening being useful as heavy labor over at the Box, assisting my brother and his growing team of construction workers in maneuvering a lot of heavy materials and machines around the place.

  Which segues nicely into the bits of news I hinted at in my last post. The Box is being outfitted pretty lavishly, all things considered, as a machine and wood shop. There are lots of old-school hand tools that can be run purely through human power. Some have been salvaged and repaired, others fabricated piece by piece. There are also many powered machines in a wide variety. All but one of them are 'dumb' machines--not computer controlled. Just big and powerful and running on a current.

  That one exception is a CNC machine, what Dave promises to be the first of several. He wants to program them to make metal parts we have trouble forging or casting, and he has been poring over the operator's manual for a day. He looks pretty confused by the thing, but hey. You never know. He might surprise us all and somehow get it to work properly.

  Even if he doesn't, the rest of the equipment here is going to make New Haven capable of a lot of work in very short order. Projects that have been stalled will be able to move forward, and it's thanks to the efforts o
f many people to move as much of the huge supply of fuel from the northeast down this way. Not just diesel fuel and gasoline, but with so many able bodies we can canvass a lot of area and scour every pound of propane. The Box has a big-ass generator, and it runs on all three of those fuels.

  One of the first orders of business to come out of there once production of finished materials can begin is to make what we need to convert the nearby buildings in the little shopping center the Box is in into giant greenhouses. It's going to be a lot of work, but with a hundred people cleaning out those areas every day and modifying the buildings to grow food in, it shouldn't take a prohibitive amount of time. There are all kinds of plans on how to make the shopping center into greenhouses that don't need electricity to stay warm. It'll mean a year-round supply of food. Like, a lot of food.

  Which is another segue into more news: we have a few less mouths to feed.

  In all the expansions and work being done, it becomes easy to miss things. Central--the original area that the rest of New Haven grew from--has had escape routes built into it for a long time. As we've moved things around and expanded outward, many of those bolt-holes became unnecessary or redundant. Some have been filled in, others repurposed. One or two were forgotten entirely. The one between Central and East was of the last sort. Forgotten.

  Until one of the newcomers' children crawled in there while he was playing and set off the trap in the bolt-hold no one remembered. This was a few days ago, and many are still in mourning. It's one thing to lose people to violent humans or ravenous undead, but this was an avoidable situation. Poor kid was only seven.