With Spring Comes the Fall (27 page)

Posted by Courtney at 
1:31 PM
 

For the foreseeable future, posts are going to have to be fairly short. The rebuilding effort around these parts is our primary goal, and clearing away the rubble and burying our dead is going to take up a lot of our time for a while.
But a few notes are in order, I think.
Courtney captured the mood around the compound right now perfectly. We are so frustrated that for every milestone we seem to reach, someone has to show up and try to knock our progress back. We are, as a group, moving toward being much less inclined to give armed invaders much of a chance. If you come to us with arms open, we will welcome you in kind. If you scout around our home and look at us down the scope of a rifle, we will end you, plain and simple, and your body will feed our dogs.
I am still in a state of numb shock, with a creeping line of anger snaking its way up my brain stem. I want so much for us to thrive in peace, but this constant influx of aggression is stopping that. So...measures are being taken. We'll leave it at that.
The first load of people from Michigan are on their way here. From what Courtney tells me, about twenty are coming this go round, with maybe more to come. I know that the folks up in Jack's camp are encouraging people to migrate here, since while both of our groups have plenty of room, ours has a greater capacity for food production and can sustain a large population indefinitely. So with luck a great many more will come over the next few weeks, but we would be happy with even just one.
The bus will be dropping off those folks and head back up immediately, which means that very shortly, my sister and her family will be gone. This saddens me, but I am dealing.
Back to work. Walls to be fixed, collapsed houses to be scrapped and recycled, and honored dead to lay to rest. If any of you out there are the praying type, please try to think of us next time you talk to the big guy.

Posted by Josh Guess at 
10:41 AM

I am in a state of exhaustion so deep that I can't really even describe it. All of us are. Between the cleanup effort around the compound and having to constantly fend off zombies from every breach in the wall, we are all about to drop. We have been discussing just stopping for a few days now that the majority of the hard labor is done, and posting guards only. No wall construction, no work on projects. Just short shifts on guard duty and then rest for twelve or so hours.
We really need it. We are still able to defend ourselves if we need to, but our minds and bodies need rest to get anywhere close to 100%. We are all getting loopy due to insufficient sleep, except for my wife and the other two women here that are pregnant. They are all exempt from heavy labor, of course, and the three of them are currently trading off rifleman duty.
We got the last of our dead ready for burial a few hours ago. It took so long to get the last of the children's remains from beneath that house, but none of us wanted to stop until we had. If ever there were a scene that gave us the resolve to fight on, to defend our home from anyone or anything, it was watching those tiny figures as they were hauled up from the depths, so frail and helpless beneath the shrouds on them.
But nothing can put off mother nature forever. We expect some of Jack's people in a few hours, and they have generously offered to keep watch for us. So most of the compound will be able to sleep for more than an hour for the first time in days. Perhaps with rest and dreams to purge our thoughts, tomorrow will be a better day.

Posted by Josh Guess at 
11:39 AM

Friday, July 2, 2010

(Courtneypost)
I am hot, tired, and crabby today, and on top of that, I am extremely lonely for my family right now. In light of these factors, I'll try to keep it brief, so we don't have too sloppy of a grief-wallow here.
Repairs continue on the wall, and there is plenty of low-key bitching about having to spend so much time fixing something that was so recently constructed, but I think, for the most part, we are happy to have something to do. Josh is quite busy, as usual, and though he is no longer the "official" leader, I see him around the compound, giving advice and encouragement, lending a hand here and there. I see that while he may not be THE leader, he will always be a leader, taking point and encouraging others to keep carrying on. What concerns me a little bit is that he didn't yell and cuss over this most recent incident, he didn't stomp around fuming, didn't have to be talked down from "taking matters into his own hands." Everything is sort of brusque and efficient. I think about how numb I have felt recently, and I wonder, is he feeling the way I do? Or is there some master plan brewing, that is yet to be unveiled? I guess they don't have to be mutually exclusive...
Steve, on the other hand, has been surprisingly demonstrative of his anger. The whole time we were moving debris and bodies, he kept grinding his teeth, breaking the occasional board or other piece of rubbish for no reason, and muttering, "Bastards," and sometimes, "Rat bastards," under his breath. I catch him staring hard at the hole in the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists. This may not seem like a big deal to most folks, but for Steve, it's practically a declaration of war. We'll have to see where this goes.
On a more upbeat note, we'll be having an Independence Day celebration here at the compound. Grilling up some veggie burgers (yes, they're tasty, Tree, but I want a steak, dammit!), taking the slightest bit of a break. Rich will be reading some selections of writings from freedom fighters of various eras, and I do love me a good impassioned speech. Not sure fireworks would be a really great idea, but...sparklers? I think we should at least rustle up a few sparklers. It should be a nice time, and I have long loved celebrating on the Fourth. Freedom has always been sacred to me, and I can't help but feel that now, more than ever, we might understand what it feels like to form a nation dedicated to such a lofty ideal.

Posted by Courtney at 
5:53 PM

I was so busy yesterday, trying to get more materials organized for the continuing effort to repair the wall that I had no time to post. Many thanks to Courtney for taking up the slack.
Not a lot is going on around here other than what we've been telling you the last few days. It's funny, you know, because to us it is constant and furious work to get our walls shored up and repaired, but to you out there learning about our lives as we live them, its the same old same old.
So instead of boring you with reports about lumber and gasoline levels, let me share something personal with you.
As all of you know, the world ended about four months ago, for all intents and purposes. You know the basic spread of the plague that created zombies across the world.
Fours months ago, I was terrified at the sight of a zombie. When men showed up to attack us, cold fear gripped my insides. It took a real effort not to lose control of my bladder. That may sound funny to some of you, but you are the minority. Most of you out there have felt that ball of ice form in the pit of your belly, the dread certainty that your life was in real and imminent danger. That you would have to do violence to save it.
I have felt rage and hate, frustration and contempt. Courtney has expressed her surprise that I haven't had any outbursts of these things, and to be honest, I am just as surprised.
You see, I think something is wrong with me. I don't know how wrong just yet, but I am pretty worried. I used to feel things so very strongly, deep passions and intense reactions. But something is different. It's sort of like I see the world through misty glass. I see mothers weeping for their children and I feel a tug at my heart, but not the mighty pull that once would have gripped me. I don't know if this is just a safety mechanism for my brain, having been overloaded with too much painful stimuli over the last several months (and especially the last week), or if perhaps I have some hereditary predilection for psychological illness that is just now starting to bloom.
Whatever the reason, I am feeling distant from people. I still say and do the right things, but I am disconnected from the act of doing so. My social interactions are on autopilot, and I don't know what to do.
Is this how you out there are feeling? I suppose that time is the only way I am going to be able to tell how serious this is. Don't worry, I will keep Evans in the loop and if I start to feel farther away from myself, I will try to connect. I don't think I'm going to go serial killer on you guys or anything, only numb.
Enough for today, there are zombies to pick off and a wall to rebuild, and too little time for either.

Posted by Josh Guess at 
11:54 AM

I am feeling better today. Not my old self yet, but after a good long sleep and some meditation, I feel like the fog that has been rolling through my brain is lifting some. Maybe my brain just needs time to adjust a little better to the fact that I can walk a mile in any direction and run into the walking dead, as well as the heartbreak of constant attacks and constant loss. Maybe we're all suffering from information overload, emotional overclocking, and I just got it worse than most others.
My sister and her family left yesterday. Two full buses have dropped off settlers from up north, bringing us about fifty people so far. Jack tells us that more are coming.
Jackie will be missed around here, and not only by me and mine. Everyone liked her, or her kids, or her husband. They were a popular group among people of all ages, and we had a bit of a going away party. But she and her husband have to make their choices for the good of the kids, and all of us understand.
Now that things are stabilizing around here a bit, my brother Dave and I are getting back into the swing of planning our stages of construction. Of course, a lot of rebuilding is going on still, but we are hard at work making sure that our defenses will be up to the challenge the next time trouble comes calling.
Patrick is working with a few of the migrants from up north, one of whom was a metallurgist, another a machinist with smithing experience. Pat is in heaven, as he has always wanted to learn the craft of blacksmithing. The council (excluding him, since he is on it) has decided that he needs some time to do some things that he wants to do, explore some ways of being useful that he enjoys. Pat deserves happiness more than anyone I can think of, both for who he is and for what he has done for everyone here.
He is a demon when it comes to zombie attacks, moving with a fierce and unlikely grace for a man of his size. He always seems to be where he is most needed at those times, and yet for all of his ability in a fight, he is also one of the first to comfort those who suffer. Pat comforts those ill of heart and goes out of his way to show others that there is still something loving and gentle to be found in the world, and all of us appreciate that.
But even his rugged heart gets frayed around the edges. No one with the sort of empathy he exudes could walk away from recent events without scars. There is a subtle drag to his step, a heaviness to his smile that says he needs time just for himself. He would never ask it, of course, which is exactly why we are basically making him do it.
Ok, I need to get out and catalog some supplies. Need to get my cup of coffee (a habit that I never, ever thought I would take up. It's all swill, but damn, it wakes me up.) and head out to one of our holding areas. Funny that life in the zombie apocalypse still comes with paperwork. Who would have guessed?
Oh, and happy Fourth of July, to anyone that still sees the world in terms of countries. I'd like to think that we have moved beyond that, but to satisfy the masses, we're going to slaughter one of the cows in the field next door and have ourselves a bit of a cookout tonight.
Until tomorrow.

Posted by Josh Guess at 
11:07 AM

Another day, another swarm of zombies. We saw this one coming, thankfully, and the fight was a relatively short one. They stayed away in large numbers for the last few days, but now it looks like they are back to regular group attacks.
I was feeling almost normal when I woke up this morning, but that hazy feeling gradually fell over me again as I got up and moved about. It's not as bad as it was a few days ago, but I still hate not knowing what is causing this. It's bad enough that we are dealing with rebuilding from the beating we took last week, but now we are fighting zombies in a constant grind and I have to run to the walls and fight, then back to my office and concentrate on my work, all while feeling like I am watching someone else do it. I need to talk to Evans, as he is our only doctor, and see what he thinks. Maybe it's a side effect from something he can treat.
If its psychological, well...we'll deal with that when it comes. I tend to think it isn't, mainly because the emotional waxing and waning is too fast. Does that sound like I am grasping at straws? Maybe.
Jess has been cooking me breakfast and lunch the last few days, since she is starting to stay indoors more now that the heat is getting truly oppressive. Everyone is mothering her now that she is pregnant, and it's a slice of normality to see her putter around the house, rather than perched up on a tower sighting a dead person's head through the scope of a high-powered rifle.
Steve has been hanging out over here a bit. The attack last week shook him pretty badly, and it brought out a seething rage that has yet to go down any notches. Not that many people would be able to tell, of course, as Steve is one of the most relaxed and calm people I have ever seen, but those of us that have known him a long time can catch the signs. His eyes have this constant tension at the corners, his steps are brisk and measured. He moves around the compound like a cat prowling for a fight. Hell, this last zombie attack earlier today was proof if nothing else can be that something is wrong with him.
He walked right through one of the last breeches of the wall with an Iaito, and simply laid waste to a large section of the attacking horde. He was wearing a set of the hodgepodge armor we put together (he's not stupid, after all) and moved with brutal efficiency among them. It was beautiful to watch, since he and I share a love of marital arts and swordsmanship, but it was scary how much of a risk he was taking. Steve isn't typically a risk taker.
And you know, part of it was funny. I mean, I love him like he's my own brother, but Steve is a very proud nerd. Like, stereotypical nerd. Big glasses, sort of high voice with a precise way of speaking, truly profound knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons. The kind of guy that gets excited as hell about an obscure piece of anime.
There he was, in a Judo gi, welder's gloves and riot helmet with a chainmaille neck covering, swinging his katana in a very practiced way, slain enemies at his feet. Never would have imagined it a year ago. Sort of like seeing Albert Einstein go into a berserker kung-fu rage and destroy the nazis, you know?
Enough chatter for now. Going to see if I can pull my thoughts together a little bit and get back to work. I am feeling slightly more normal at the moment.
I smell some coffee brewing.