American Recovery

by Joshua Guess

  But that's the other hand. They claim authority over us, but they admit they have no power to enforce that. Yet. They claim power but profess weakness. It's almost an invitation for a fight. It's stupid and careless and enraging. People who've lived in armored boxes most of the time we've been out here are trying to explain to us why they're superior or something. Like I said, it makes my brain hurt.

  But for now, we're taking them at their word. No matter how upsetting this is, we aren't making the first move. It's just not in the cards. If this is an act of deliberate provocation, it failed. If it's genuine (and idiotic) communication from people that don't know better, it also failed. There's no chance we'd let ourselves be governed by entitled morons like this.

  I just hope it doesn't devolve into something worse. The whole thing makes me sad for a lot of reasons. Most of them relate to disappointment. There are thousands of survivors out there with resources unknown. They could have been a huge boon to us and we to them. There were so many possibilities. Instead of being positive forces for each other, we're dealing with this. It makes me want to curl up in the bed and just drift mentally.

  As a matter of fact, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do.

  Friday, December 14, 2012

  New Condition

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Yesterday's post basically explained to any of you out there who aren't on one side or another (or who were out of the loop) what the situation is with the UAS and the Union. Frankly these large-scale problems get to me mostly because I'm well out of the decision-making loop. I can suggest, I can persuade, but in the end I'm just another guy.

  I'm growing more and more okay with that. Already this morning I've had Will over at the house, bitching about the turmoil among the members of the Union now that the UAS have made their intentions clear. The argument is that allowing them to spread out, even in lands we don't use or even want, gives them a stable base for growth. The UAS acknowledges that they can't deal with us at present. But allowing them to grow and put down roots will eventually come back to bite us in the ass.

  And I can feel myself drifting away from the general vicinity of giving a shit. I mean, look, we've faced a lot worse than bureaucrats in our time. We still deal with the undead on a daily basis. Let's keep it real: if these people had soldiers enough to waste on us, they'd have sent them out with the groups trying to hoard resources, right? If there are any members of the military left with the UAS, and I'm assuming there are, then they stay close to home. Defenders of the nest, if you will.

  There isn't much of a sense of urgency among the people of New Haven about these folks. We worry about invasions by living enemies, a resurgence of the Exiles or marauders, swarms of the living dead. Our leadership and that of the other communities in the Union are having a nice case of the wiggins (to use a favorite word from Buffy the Vampire Slayer) about it. They're the ones freaking out because some other group has set up far away from here and staked a claim. It's a big deal to Will and his counterparts in communities around the country, and to the councils that advise them, that a bunch of assholes think they're our bosses.

  Honestly, it bothered me a lot yesterday. But I slept on it, and this morning it doesn't get to me as much. Yeah, it's stupid and prideful to think that a bunch of people with their heads in the sand have the slightest fucking clue what they're doing out here. I'm just not that fussed. They aren't coming after us any time soon. They are, at very best, a long-term problem. In the near term they're just an afterthought.

  It would be easy to get upset at their arrogance. Hell, it was easy for me yesterday, and it still galls today. To allow that anger to blind us to reality would be the real tragedy. We're survivors, people. There isn't a single person among us that hasn't patiently waited in some hidey-hole while an enemy passed us by. We're better people than these folks imagine. We won't give in to a taunt, intentional or not.

  And the cool thing is that I think most of you here in New Haven agree with me. No need to provoke the UAS. We can just live our lives and deal with them when and if they become a problem. If it comes to war, we'll fight. But until and unless it does, we will do as The Dude did, and simply abide.

  Sunday, December 16, 2012

  Visits

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I don't get to see a lot of people very often. There are friends like Patrick who live close and others like Will who move around a lot. But other people, even ones I've known for years (ugh, up to decades, now that I think about it...) live here and I never really get much interaction. Hell, my own sister has been moving back and forth between here and North Jackson off and on for months now with the trade caravans, and I rarely see her.

  So it was kind of weird to suddenly have old friends knocking on my door yesterday. Elizabeth came by with her husband and kid (!) to see how I was doing. They stayed for a bit, catching up on things, and it was nice. Shortly after they went on their way, Jamie showed up. It has been so long since I've seen him that I almost forgot about him completely. And he was walking around on his false leg and everything. So strange to see so many changes. Jamie has apparently been working exclusively as a sharpshooter for most of this year, perched up in a watchtower. Though we were never best friends, he and I have seen some serious shit together, and it was nice to know he was thinking about me.

  Then he started mentioning this blog and how he reads it. Which made me wonder: why would he need to catch up with me? For better or for worse, my life is out here for all of you to peruse at your ledger. I can buy that Jamie was genuinely worried given my last few posts, but I've publicly been through a hell of a lot worse without prompting old friends to come by.

  I started wandering around, trying to figure out who was suggesting to old friends that they come see me. I cornered Will first, but he denied it. Will would tell me if I asked him outright, even if he'd never volunteer the truth. I knew Patrick didn't do it; he has been working his ass off at the forge for a few weeks. At night, too, which DOESN'T KEEP ME UP AT ALL, MOTHERFUCKER!

  ...Sorry. I have these moments where I want to sleep and some people wake me up and I get grumpy about it.

  I grilled everyone. Gabby, Phil, Courtney and Steve, anyone I could find who might try to lighten my mood by sending people to visit me. It's not a bad tactic, after all. It worked before. But try as I might, there was no joy. I couldn't figure out who did it. After several hours of hoofing it all over New Haven, from the very far wall of West past the gates of East and the hospital, I ended up at the Box. Jess was working there, and has been for the last few days. She's setting up the first pieces of the greenhouses over in the buildings next to the Box.

  I spent a few minutes telling her about my day and how irritating it was for people--however good their intent--to spring visits on me by telling people I might not be quite right. I bitched and moaned that I wasn't an invalid, that I didn't need the attention, that I can deal with my own problems without being a burden to other people.

  Then Jess told me she had asked folks to stop by, spread out over a few days. Jess has always been painfully shy, and while she has grown and changed tremendously over the last few years, one consequence of years spent avoiding other people is a unique ability to do without them. It sounds strange, but being pathologically unable to deal with people made my wife's view of the world alter to fit that urge to hide. I wouldn't have thought she would even consider asking people to come see me while she was away. That it occurred to her at all that I might enjoy that is frankly amazing.

  It's not that she isn't thoughtful, you understand. She is. She's very caring, but she would be more comfortable around just me and a few others. Uninvited guests are not her ideal way of relaxing. She told me that I've been acting strange around the house. Sad, less accessible. Discouraged. She felt responsible, so she didn't think it would be best for her to try to fix me. So she asked friends. Her line of reasoning was simple; seeing people for the first time in a long while might remind me of better days. J
ess wanted to help.

  And she's right, of course. If my wife, who sees me every day, thinks there's a problem then there probably is. I trust her judgment above nearly anyone else, and when it comes to me and denial I can always count on her to set me straight. I don't know what it says about me that I apparently didn't think any other person was capable of the same insight when I didn't know it was her that sent Elizabeth and Jamie. That's probably not a good thing.

  Questioning yourself in crisis can be fatal. But in peaceful times, for people like me, it becomes a vital diagnostic tool. The Fall and the years since have made inner reflection absolutely necessary. It's easy to be sure of your actions when you're fighting the dead, but those habits and ways of thinking need to be evaluated constantly.

  Because we don't just deal with the dead, do we?

  Monday, December 17, 2012

  Toasty

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I don't know about the rest of you out there, but the last two days here have been very warm. T-shirt weather. The local zombies are of course more active because of the moderate temperatures, but though they're taking an interest in the folks that go outside the walls, they aren't making efforts to hit New Haven itself in large numbers.

  I'm sitting in the house nice and toasty. There isn't a need for reserve defenders to go out, and while sixty degrees is nice, I'm still bundled up. I haven't been feeling at my best since last night. I really hope I'm not coming down with something.

  I invited Jamie over again. He just left. I spent the early part of my morning really catching up with him. We have a lot in common, actually. He's physically crippled, I'm emotionally crippled. Doesn't seem logical but there's quite a bit of overlap there. It was refreshing to talk to someone who understands the mental barriers that come up when you feel useless, helpless, and a drag on other people. Jamie made me feel better, because what he has had to overcome is so much more concrete than my own issues, yet he's happy and strong. It gives me hope that I can eventually get past these bursts of depression and anxiety.

  The big takeaway from his visit is that, for me, most of my own problems rise up from external situations. A lot of depression springs from inside. Mine doesn't, really. I fixate on something real that happened or is happening and dwell on it. Tears me up inside. I'm working on it. Hell, I thought I had this thing beat.

  Thankfully there isn't a lot to bring me down at the moment. People coming and going from New Haven are capable of protecting themselves, so I don't stress about that. The Exiles across the river are unusually quiet even for them--and they've been keeping a profile so low it has almost been nonexistent lately--so there's another problem off the list.

  And the UAS hasn't been making any moves that anyone can see. I'm sure they're still moving some of their people into new areas so they can farm and set up new communities, but we're so far away from them that there's really no conflict for us.

  There are even some positives. Jess has figured out how to heat the giant buildings she wants to turn into greenhouses over by the Box. She says that by using a combination of small fires and compost, which heats up as it decomposes, she can make those giant spaces warm enough to grow most anything. She even did some math to show me how it all worked out. I took her word for it. I'm good at a fair number of things, and mathematics is not within light years of that list.

  So, we'll have a leg up on planting season when the time rolls around. That's awesome, and after a winter of eating rabbits (usually in the form of stew, and using the whole animal minus the fur) and deer meat along with some preserves and roughage, a more diverse variety of foods will be very welcome. We're just getting into the bitter seasons, and I'm already looking forward to fresh corn and tomatoes.

  We're becoming more industrial, too. Patrick has been working hard to make custom pieces for the people over in the Box so they can get their machinery going. That's Pat's main goal, because he's constantly overworked and has to do most of his metalwork by hand. Once the Box gets fully operational, things around here will begin to get a lot better very fast. Not the least being more time off and freedom to choose projects for ol' Patrick. I'm sure he'd like to spend more time with his family as well.

  There are a lot of good things going on here, so I guess I can't complain too much. I just feel this sense of detachment. I mean, I wish to god I could just be happy, but the chemistry in my brain makes me nearly incapable of taking personal pride or responsibility for the good things, and only feel guilt for the bad even if I have nothing to do with them.

  Fuck it. Sorry about this ramble. I'm really trying, and it's a process. I'll deal. I'll try to change it up and stop bitching tomorrow.

  Tuesday, December 18, 2012

  Ringing Silence

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Something odd is going on across the river. We've been in a period of peace with the Exiles for so long that any change becomes more noticeable. I mentioned yesterday that they've been more low-key than usual, but this morning there were no guards to replace the ones who left at the end of the shift.

  In fact, there were no Exiles to be seen at all. That made our watchers very nervous, so they reported it in. So far the debate at home has mostly centered around how we should try to communicate with them, not whether we should or not.

  I decided to mention it here on the off chance that any of them over there can read this. I sincerely hope this isn't a precursor to more violence or some new subterfuge. It may be nothing more than a bout of the flu forcing them to button down due to a loss of manpower. I hope it's something like that. We're not in the same position we were even a few months ago. We have a lot more int he way of people and resources. I don't think it would be much of a fight if that's what the Exiles are planning.

  It's such a tired line, but it's a little too quiet. So if anyone over there can read this, please respond. We don't want anything stupid happening because of a misunderstanding.

  I'd rather not cloud the importance of this request by going on with a bunch of other stuff, especially my own problems, so I'll leave it there. A short post, I know, but important. Better to err on the side of caution.

  Wednesday, December 19, 2012

  Henry

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I want to tell you about Henry. Until yesterday afternoon he was one of the Exiles living in the fallback point. As of this moment, though the search is still ongoing, Henry appears to be the last member of that group. The last one alive, that is.

  He was able to get a message to us, begging for help. He was weeping over the walkie-talkie as our people listened to his pleas. Henry was nearly incomprehensible, but our people could make out his repeated requests for help. At the time he contacted us, a few of his fellow Exiles were still alive, but dying painfully. Our people took a bit to get over the shattered bridges--and yes, of course we had a plan for that--and by the time they arrived only Henry and one other, a woman, were left.

  She died on the way to New Haven, after our people figured out how to get an unconscious person over the rope bridge they'd extended over the river.

  As of right now we've got a lot more questions than answers, but we know a few things. We know the Exiles were poisoned somehow and that many of them were already sick. We know the two guards our watchers saw yesterday are the likely culprits, for a variety of reasons that aren't important right this second. We know that this had to have been planned for a long time.

  We know there are one hundred and seventy-seven dead over there. If there's a mercy to be found in this it's that there aren't many children among the victims. Which is probably the worst silver lining I've ever had to find.

  A part of me wants to feel satisfaction. The Exiles are--were--our enemies, and I have hated them with a fierceness that far overshadows anything I've felt for the undead. Though hostilities have waxed and waned, the underlying rage has never completely vanished.

  I've heard descriptions of the bodies. Whatever poison killed them, it wasn't prett
y and it wasn't nice. Those people suffered agonizing deaths that took hours and probably felt like decades. If push had ever come to shove, I would have killed any of them to protect one of my own. I would have done it without hesitation or guilt, though not without regret. I would have done it quick and neat, with as little pain as I could manage, and that would have been the end of it.

  Not this. Dear god, some of those people killed themselves rather than endure the pain any longer. We hope to know more when and if Henry recovers. The bits he told us before he finally passed out were a jumble, but we put enough pieces together to understand that the two guards we saw leave their post vanished minutes after they did so. They weren't subtle about it, announcing their departure and taking a vehicle for themselves.

  I want to know what this is all about. I need to understand. The kind of cruelty dealt to the Exiles is beyond the limit of what we can accept. I want to know why. With luck Henry will pull through, and the fact that he's not dead says a lot for his chances, and we can start adding pieces to the puzzle.

  For now we'll work on building a more permanent bridge across the river, and we will see to his people. In life they were enemies. In death their sins no longer matter. Whatever killed the Exiles prevented them from reanimating, and we will give them a funeral pyre. Then we will clean and search some more as we reclaim the other side of the river.

  Something we have hoped to achieve for a long time now, but the reality tastes like ashes. Ashes and tears.

  Friday, December 21, 2012

  Standoff

  Posted by Josh Guess

  A scout team found the two guards that murdered the Exiles. For the last day they've been at a standoff, the two men holed up in a house about thirty miles north of here. Our people have them surrounded but won't attempt to make entry on the house. Rather than put our people in more danger by going in after armed men, our leadership has made the call to starve them out. Or, in this case, thirst them out. The murderers don't have much in the way of drinking water, so in no more than three days and probably a lot less, they'll have to make a choice.