Living With the Dead: The Hungry Land (18 page)

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Way Out Far

Posted by Josh Guess

Our people out in Bald Knob sent a messenger out to the compound this morning with some promising news. We'd been wondering for a while what, if anything, there was to find in some of the more rural parts of Henry and Owen counties. They're close enough that it isn't too hard on gas, but isolated enough that there's a good chance that some caches of supplies might remain undiscovered.
So, every day a pair of whatever people happen to be out at the Bald Knob outpost go a little further, carefully and quietly. They've been mapping the area for any possible locations that might contain useful things. We've been hoping to get a group of people together to make a run out there with enough numbers to provide for at least some safety.
Today is that day, ladies and gents.
Since we've recently suffered casualties, the folks that are going are non-essential to the compound. Well, no one is really non-essential. What I mean is that no guards, hunters, scouts, farmers, cooks, et cetera will be going. They're the ones that make the compound work. No, this group will be composed of people who can afford to be gone for a day or two without interrupting the machinery of our community.
Since I coordinate several other people who each do a portion of my old job, I can go. And I will. Dave wanted to come, but the trenches are more important, and today is free of rain, so it's too good a chance.
Though he's still recovering from his injury, Mason will be coming. So will Jamie. Those two won't be getting out of their vehicles, given that one of them has several severe injuries that don't allow him to move with any speed, and the other is missing a leg entirely.
But their minds work just dandy. I can't think of any other two men whose observational abilities I'd want on my side more.
Gabrielle will be coming since today is one of her rare off days from the clinic. Phil and Evans will be able to handle anything that comes up, short of a catastrophic event.
Two of Jessica's armorers will join us along with three of the folks that make clothing, three of Dodger's assistants. Oh, Aaron will be going too. And Dodger himself, I think.
I want to tell you SO badly what we're going after. It was only discovered this morning, and it's incredibly good news for us. Unfortunately, I've learned the hard way that posting a blog about it is a good way to point people right at what you're after. So I won't get too specific, other than to say that if accurate, today's run will solve a major short-term problem and possibly a long-term one as well. It's not anything world-shaking; no hidden nuclear reactor or secret science base. It's pretty mundane. Ordinary, really.
It's just that what we're after could be a windfall that might save a lot of lives. That is what's exciting. I'm jazzed!
Heading out in a few minutes. If we're done by tomorrow, I'll let you know what we went after.
Later, Peeps.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Free Range

Posted by Josh Guess

Becky came with us on our trip to Owen county, which was very helpful. She's uncannily good at catching chickens.
I gave you guys a hint, really I did. I said, "Later, Peeps." Peeps, the marshmallow candy covered in sugar, were made to look like chicks. I was trying to be clever. Maybe it was completely lame.
Anyway...
We found exactly what we were looking for: an abandoned farm way out in the boonies that had a huge penned area in which our people from Bald Knob discovered a trove of meals walking around and clucking. We searched the place pretty thoroughly while we were there, and it was interesting. Turns out the family that owned it raised chickens to be free range and sold them as organic. Made a good amount of money at it before the zombie plague broke out, too.
We caught about three hundred of them total. There were a few dozen chickens left there, but we didn't try to get all of them. Left to their own devices on the big plot of land they occupy, there's a good chance they'll multiply again. We can hope. Besides, the vehicles we took were absolutely stuffed with birds. We couldn't have fit any more of them in without using a hammer to do it.
I was surprised that so many of them could live in such a relatively small area without someone to feed them, but after talking to one of our farmers it made more sense. Chickens are omnivores, and they can survive off of almost anything. Kentucky has a lot of bugs and other small creatures. Not really that strange to find a decent population of chickens out there. Lots of folks around here used to keep them as pets. Many of those people would also eat the eggs.
We're going to try something. Given the truly stupid amount of potato beetles we're seeing, the people who run our farms think it's worth trying to release a bunch of them into the fields to see if they can clean house. I'm more worried that the chickens will destroy the potato plants, but the bugs will do that anyway if we can't get them under control.
The urge to slaughter a bunch of them and eat very well for a few days is strong, and the sentiment isn't just limited to me. Fortunately, that choice isn't for any one of us to make. It's a lot more logical to set up some nests and collect eggs. Much more food in the long term, and full of protein and fat.
Still, fried chicken sounds delicious. I know a lot of people are thinking the same thing...
Ahh, OK. Got to get my mind off that. Let's talk about the actual trip.
It was fairly uneventful, to be honest. The way there had been cleared by our people from Bald Knob during their scouting trips. There weren't a lot of surprises to be had. I will admit to being pretty surprised by the fact that the chicken farm was untouched by zombies, considering how many fowl were there, easy meals all. I took a close look around when we got there, and saw that the fence was pretty resistant to damage.
It was pretty tall, about six feet. It had started life out as standard grid fencing, cheap but sturdy. The people who had put it up had sunk posts every four feet, which gave the thing a lot of stability. Of course, that alone wouldn't have been enough to stop the undead, should they have discovered the place. No, the owners had thought ahead and planted some dense climbing flowers all around the outside of the fence. The whole damn thing was a mass of vines and leaves, impossible to see through. I'm told that it probably attracted a lot of bugs, too. Our birds likely ate very well because of that.
All the foliage gave nice cover to the chickens, and grew thick enough that it basically made a solid wall. If you've ever seen a creeper of ivy in a piece of stone, the tiny thread of green cracking it like an eggshell, then you can understand why I'm not surprised at how strong the fence was.
Actually catching the damn things was awful. Also? Really funny. Except for Becky, who is a lot faster than most of the people who went, it was chaos. We slammed into each other over and over, tripped on our own feet as we scrambled to get our hands on the birds. It was about as awkward as two virgins screwing, only with a lot more swearing and less satisfaction.
Still, it was a good trip. We've hopefully got a decent setup to avoid starvation if our hunting and fishing efforts falter because of this trip. Worst case scenario, we can kill and eat them. I don't want to, though. In fact, a lot of people have expressed interest in keeping some of the chicks we caught (or letting some eggs get fertilized) in order to have a chicken at home. I think it's a good idea. Who doesn't want a pet that will keep your garden free of bugs while supplying you with a tasty egg most mornings? That sounds like a WIN!
In fact, I've already got a chick. Cute little thing. My dogs have been eying her enough that I had to put her cage (our old ferret cage, the one we used to take the ferrets with us when we left the compound) in my bedroom with the door shut. I think I'll let the chick grow some before I risk putting her and the dogs in the same room.
I named her Athena. I've always liked that name, and Jess and I have always liked giving our pets strange and non-pet sounding names. I hear her chirping at me now. Good thing I set out a little trap for some bugs. She can eat a lot of them...

Monday, May 23, 2011

Cooped Up

Posted by Josh Guess

Last summer we dealt with unbelievable heat and drought. This year the flavor seems to be storms. The one we had this morning was only really bad for about ten minutes, though during that time the wind was strong enough to bowl a person over if they weren't careful. No damage to report, but our newly acquired stock of chickens weren't all that thrilled with it.
Yesterday I had actually intended to write a post, but my brother strong-armed me and a bunch of other people into helping him build a bunch of chicken coops. Though we intend on letting most of them wander around when possible, we also wanted to have somewhere they could sneak off to in bad weather. It's also convenient in case we just need to stick them somewhere out of the way.
The place we found the chickens was relatively small for the number of them we gathered. I say relatively because the fenced area itself was pretty damn huge for a fenced area. I guess that's because the people there were actively farming free range birds. I'd say it was about eight hundred feet on a side, and there was a creek running through it.
Our farmers have to water them, but the feeding part seems to be going pretty well. There are a lot of plants and bugs out there to be eaten, and the chickens seem to be content in their new home. We're having a bit of trouble coordinating the logistics of egg gathering for free-range birds, but that's a problem for another day. Hell, I'm just glad they went into the coops when the storm came through.
Not that dirt-floored pens made of one-by-one posts and thin roofs of plywood, aluminum, and whatever else we could find for materials are exactly waterproof. Or windproof for that matter. I was told that the birds got pretty agitated by the wind coming through the wire sides. Guess we'll have to build windbreaks, too.
Funnily, people don't react well to being cooped up either. It isn't just the storms I'm talking about: I think living in what is essentially a walled for for a year has had some small but cumulative psychological effect on many of us. It's contrary to human nature to stay closed in for so long, to not be able to freely move about whenever the hell we want to. We know intellectually that it's safer, and thus equals life. Instinctively, though, we feel a stronger urge to go out and move freely.
I think that might be part of why some people around here are more prone to getting irritated and resentful. I've felted caged many times, and looking back it seems like every time I've gotten sick of it, I've gone out on some mission that I really could have left to other people. And I kept doing it, regardless of the risk involved.
I mean, honestly--the majority of people alive have been killed and/or converted by the zombie disease. How many times can one person go out among the walking dead and reasonably expect to come back alive? Our scouts and hunters are chosen to do just that very carefully. They're incredibly cautious and well-armored. They always travel in groups and watch out for each other. Even so, it's a huge risk for them every time they go through our gates.
I'd love to find a way to channel some of the excess stress and irritation, especially for the men of the compound since we're so testosterone heavy and much more prone to act irrationally because of it. That isn't sexism against my own gender, by the way. It's just biology.
It's something I'll have to think on. I'll ask around, see if anyone has ideas, and maybe try to poll some folks to see which of them might be popular. Every system has to have a relief valve for the pressure that builds, and people aren't any different. We'll just have to find something that fits.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Contentment

Posted by Josh Guess

I sort of feel like I've been ignoring some things. Important things, at least to me. In the midst of all the recent problems, ranging from the heavy storms and food shortages to zombie attacks and discontent within the compound, I've let some things that really mean something slip by without speaking about them.
Becky, for one. I can't describe to you the feeling I get seeing her every day. I know that sounds strange given how much I've talked about my wife, Jess, and how devoted I am to her. I guess the difference lies in my relationship with each of them. Jess is my best friend as much as Pat or Becky, and I'm so head over heels in love with her that sometimes it literally hurts my chest.
It's just that Becky sort of predates that. Granted, I've known Jess longer, but I got to really know Becky first. Having her living in the house with us is awesome. While my wife and I share the same dark sense of humor and sardonic view on most things, Becky and I share the interests that Jess and I lack. Jess and I are gamers, or at least we were. Becky's last video game might have been Tetris. Becky and I are both science nerds, whereas Jess enjoys the practical application of what she knows rather than murky theories.
It's like that in a lot of ways. All of us spend a lot of time together, and we all learn new things from and about each other on a daily basis. Kind of amazing that we all get along so well. It's even more amazing that Becky seems to have begun moving on from the fragile state she was in when she showed up here.
She's not a fragile person by nature. She's bubbly in personality, this little blonde thing that you might expect to be pretty stereotypically girlie. Contrast that with her service in Iraq, having survived two IED explosions and still going back out to save lives every day. Think about the hell she's gone through to get here. I can't imagine how many zombies she had to have killed to make it from the east coast to Kentucky. She's honed fighting skills she didn't even have two years ago, learned to survive on nothing but determination and cleverness, and most important--stayed alive.
It took a toll on her. I've said it before, but having her around is like realizing I was missing a finger and having it grow back. The things she's seen and done aren't easily forgotten. The horrors we all face on a regular basis are bad enough, but she's had more than her share.
But since Becky has been here, that has slowly been changing. The distant look she gets in her eyes when she isn't occupied with something is showing up less and less. The frown lines at the corners of her mouth aren't so deep. The wounds inside her aren't going away. That's impossible as long as memory remains. But they do seem to be scarring over. She's moving on.
What is really satisfying to me on a deeply personal level is seeing how she has affected people around the compound in the short time she's been here. Hell, she's even impressing folks that don't live here. I got a few emails from some survivors in the other groups we keep in touch with, expressing doubt that I was telling the truth when she showed up. What were the chances that yet another person I know managed to survive. Not only that, but to make it here from the other side of the planet?
It should say something about the kind of people I choose to associate with. Really.
I come from a family of smart, tough, pragmatic people. That is how so many of my family survived (though not all that many when you think about the dozens who didn't...) when The Fall happened. I warned as many of them as I could, and some of them listened. I love my family, and I choose my friends with similar traits in mind.
Hence, Becky. Part of why I feel so jazzed about her being here is 
because
 she's such an amazing person. I'm not at all surprised that someone who can comprehend the harder parts of theoretical physics, stitch a person back together, run a country mile in six minutes, and have the toughness to survive as a combat medic who is also female in the boys' club that is the military, would live to make it here.
People who seem surprised that some folks have managed to overcome extreme odds apparently haven't taken too hard a look at human beings. We hear and see stories that seem amazing and epic, soldiers who drag twenty men to safety in the middle of a firefight or something similar, and we forget that those stories are about people. Ordinary people who do extraordinary things. Not because they are special in the traditional sense.
It's because each of them recognized that all of us are capable of such things. Every damn person. 
That 
is one of our best defining characteristics. Adaptability, cleverness, and the powerful urge to survive. Combine that with human intelligence, and I'm shocked that more people didn't make it through The Fall.
It's that capacity to overcome that really gets me. In the obvious ways, it amazes--acts of heroism and skill, odds defied and enemies defeated. Right now, I'm equally floored by the more subtle aspect right in front of me...
...Becky is feeling better. All things considered, that's pretty fucking epic.