Ever After
Ever After
Living With the Dead [7]
Guess, Joshua
Joshua Guess (2013)
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Tags: Living With the Dead
Living With the Deadttt
In the final volume of Living With the Dead, a new world is born. Survivors begin to resettle areas long abandoned by humanity, and as always war follows closely in their footsteps.
Ever After
Volume Seven of Living With the Dead
Joshua Guess
©2013 Joshua Guess
Victim Zero is the first book in a series set in (and to a degree explaining) the LWtD universe. If you don't own it, you should.
If you like my work, you should check out Beautiful, my smart-ass urban fantasy novel.
I highly suggest you read my collaboration with James Cook, a zombie story set in his Surviving the Dead universe. It's called The Passenger.
Visit JoshuaGuess.com for the latest updates.
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This being the final volume found in the Archive labeled 'Living With the Dead', it would be remiss of this archivist not to implore you to read every word of this text.
In the previous volume we explored The Schism. Herein we see the first inkling of the future beyond. I shall allow the text to speak for itself, though not without an interesting note:
The author left tantalizing information at the end of this collection. Unlike the previous six volumes, this final piece of preserved history is the original, sealed by its creator and containing additional material not found in the digital recordings.
Read on.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Year Four, Day One
Posted by Josh Guess
Today is the third anniversary of my first blog post, the day most of us use to signify the beginning of The Fall. It marks three full years since, and the beginning of our fourth year living within the end of the world.
Think about that for a minute. Really.
For today, I want to ignore everything else going on in the world and just tell you about something that really interested me. My blog, my prerogative, but it might make you think a bit, too.
The world ended, right? Yet who would have thought, three years ago, that after all the danger and struggle and death we'd be in a place where not only can you stop by somewhere and get a cheeseburger, but that we'd also be making new friends while we do it? Something as formerly normal as going out to eat with people and getting to know them, sitting around a table and chatting in the guarded way all fresh acquaintances used to do as a way of testing the boundaries of other people. Seems mundane when you look at it from the context of the world that was. In the world that is? It's just short of miraculous.
Yesterday I learned some things. One is that Beckley fucking loves cheeseburgers. His post the other day didn't do his obsession justice. To pay for our meal--he said it was his treat--Beckley offered to work for the establishment in question for ten hours. His labor paid for my meal, his, and Big K's. I hope the work is worth it to my soon-to-be therapist, because we made sure to stuff ourselves to the brim.
Beckley ate four all by himself. I had three with fries. K, even though he's twice my size, only had one and a side of fries, though I could tell he wasn't quite full. I guess K is more thoughtful than I am.
You can learn a lot about other people by watching them eat. Beckley tore through his like the Hamburglar, barely taking breaths between bites. For an average-sized dude, he can turn into a ravenous savage when it comes to food. He went through a stack of napkins thicker than War and Peace by the end of his frenzy. K on the other hand took his time and ate delicately, savoring each bite and blowing on the bits to make sure they wouldn't burn his tongue. While Beckley only grunted responses between huge bites, K took pauses to keep the conversation going.
I fall somewhere between the two of them, though admittedly I mostly used my sleeve to wipe my mouth. I'd like to say it was because I was afraid Beckley would bite my hand if I made a move for the napkins, but the truth is I'm just kind of a slob that way. I wash my own clothes, so it's not like I was foisting the effort of mustard removal off on anyone else.
The interesting thing to me wasn't the conversation itself, which was mostly banal stuff; what each of us did before The Fall, what kinds of things we did after (I didn't have to say much, obviously, since my life is an open book on this blog) and the like. What fascinated me was the way we had the conversation, the little pieces of body language that indicate comfort or discomfort with the people around us. Again, it was like the three of us occupied equidistant spots on a spectrum. Beckley is intelligent and thoughtful, but very expressive. He doesn't move his body around much but that's mostly because wherever he sits, he lounges. He's a relaxed guy, and my guess is that he's also one with a set of balls that drag the ground when he walks. To be that relaxed sitting in the open inside a colony of people that considered you a 'kill on sight' enemy just weeks before? Balls. Brass ones.
Big K is more reserved. I know he can fight, and the fact that he's this giant guy automatically builds preconceived notions. But none of that. He's cautious and talks with his hands when he wants to make a point, but otherwise tries not to offend the other parties or give away much about himself. He never grins or laughs from the belly. At all times he seems to control his reactions. The fact that he speaks like a college professor most of the time makes me wonder if being my assistant is a vast under utilization of his talents. I already knew he had more education than many of us, but yesterday I got to see that fine analytical mind of his churn along at cruising speed.
Granted, the part of the discussion at lunch that most involved us a group was about who would win in a fight between fictional characters. Beckley was all about Superman coming out on top. K stuck with Luke Skywalker, and I--of course--pointed out that Batman would kick the shit out of both of them. It's like K and Beckley live in some crazy fantasy world where logic is backwards and Bruce Wayne isn't the most dangerous man in creation. Not understanding that must be a sad way to live.
Just three guys sitting around a table, cooking their own burgers on the small fire pit in the middle of it. The umbrella rising from the holder on one edge of the table barely kept any of the snow off our heads, but wrapped up as we were in clothes and conversation, that didn't matter much.
When I got home from that lunch with Big K in tow, I realized I'd had a great time. I was still thinking about it long after K went home, and mentioned to Jess (who finally made it back to our house after nearly a week sleeping at the greenhouse) that I'd forgotten for a while about everything else, thanks to my time with those guys. The war, the undead, the uncertainty casting a shadow on every day ahead of us. For a brief time that was all gone, and even when I started to think about it again, the darkness laying over the future seemed less deep.
That's where we are after three years. This, the fourth year of the end of the world, is one that presents challenges. But if we keep out eyes open, I'd bet that it will hand us just as many--if not more--opportunities.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Once Burned
Posted by Josh Guess
I would like to say that once burned, people would learn not to play with fire. What's left of humanity might be strong and fit and smart in general, but we're just as prone to stupid decisions as ever. The UAS is proof of that; they're working on a huge offensive which appears to be happening in three directions. From the east toward us, the West toward the groups there that includes Ketill and his small army,and to the north of the main UAS encampments.
We're not sure where the people are coming from, but our intelligence is showing us increasing numbers at the far southern UAS camps. If the rate of new arrivals keeps
up this, pace they'll match the population of the Union in a few weeks. If it keeps going beyond that, we'll be dealing with a larger force for the first time since The Fall began.
Things aren't looking good for that whole 'avoiding fights' thing I was advocating, but it's not all bleak. We're not stupid enough to go out and engage on their terms, and defending is always easier than attacking.
On a larger scale the situation doesn't look as bad for other reasons. I find myself pleasantly surprised to see many of the people in New Haven continuing on with their lives in a more relaxed way than recent events would have led me to believe was possible. A few have stopped by here to tell me how much they liked the last few posts, that it helped them realize the importance of normality in our everyday lives no matter what threats hang over our heads.
And honestly, those folks made me realize that they knew that lesson better than me. One lady pointed out that we've acclimated to the stress of zombie attacks so well that they've become routine, almost like background noise. Where once we panicked and lived under a load of stress that nearly drove us all batty, now we have a calm and reasoned response developed over time.
It takes conscious effort to constantly self-correct our thoughts and actions. There are of course still those who want to react and react quickly--to run out and end the threat, to die in glory in defense of our people and our way of life. I don't degrade that impulse at all; I've felt it within the last two weeks. It's understandable and in my eyes at least, a noble urge.
Just not a successful long-term strategy. As hard as it is for many of us, the key to winning this fight is to avoid having it for as long as we can. Digging in, expanding our manufacturing capabilities, our infrastructure, our food stocks, our defensive measures, all of those things are going to be a greater set of tools and do more for our survival than any proactive attack.
I sit here at my desk and look at a small statuette my mom gave me when I was a teenager. It's this slickly glazed unicorn rearing up into the air, pearlescent and shiny. I make sure to dust it regularly, which makes it unique in my house.
Mom was obsessive about wanting me to make a birthday list. She wanted a gift to be something I truly wanted, something I'd cherish. Contrariwise, I've always had a hard time listing out things I want. I used to see a thing on a shelf and say, "I'd love that!" and then forget about it. So most of the time I asked for art supplies (this during the time before I finally gave up on drawing because of how terrible I was at it) and associated doodads. That year, however, mom insisted I add something else. Something special.
Because I learned to be a smart-ass from her, the very best I've ever met, I jokingly wrote "Unicorn" and put stars next to it.
Having totally forgot about the list, my birthday rolled around. My last gift was a small box, carefully wrapped with one of the fancy hand-made bows mom saved for important things. I opened it, and inside sat this little white unicorn statuette. Maybe six inches tall, it would have been at home in the bedroom of any girl of ten. At first I was confused, but also amused, and when I looked up at her with an eyebrow cocked, she handed me the birthday list. All the items were checked off, including the unicorn.
She just thought it was funny and clever, and it was. I never would have expected her to fulfill my sarcastic wish, even in an equally sarcastic way. Mom was unpredictable like that.
But I kept that little shiny guy around for a lot of reasons. It was a reminder that my mother loved me--and now that she's gone, a reminder of how deeply that love ran--but it was also a lesson. Never hope for the moon and stars, but also never deny yourself the right to wish for them. Never let wonder and the possibility of miracles become forgotten things inside. Because while the things you dream for might not come to be in the way you imagine, sometimes they do come true regardless.
Even little jokes can lead to important lessons. We are faced with the likelihood of war on a scale that we might all perish. We hope for a solution that allows us a chance to live in true peace and safety so that we might carry on the legacy we've been building.
If my unicorn story only makes you smile, that's enough. If it helps you keep hope alive that we make it through this crisis, so much the better. I honestly feel there has to be a way. It may not be how we imagine it, but the possibility exists. There is no parent to hand it to us, this go round. It's on us to search it out.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Tinder
Posted by Josh Guess
I'm running on about an hour and a half of sleep. I've been up all night acting as the central communication hub between New Haven and the rest of the Union. It's a job that occasionally requires my attention when big or bad (or both) things happen. I've been the daily go-between for New Haven and North Jackson since the attack there and the subsequent relief we sent up that way.
Last night and all of this morning so far I've been in contact with nearly all of the southern communities in the Union. Early yesterday morning a huge warm front came in off the Gulf of Mexico and sent temperatures in the south up toward t-shirt and shorts weather. That would be great except for the fact that it allowed the zombies in the region more mobility. Worse, someone on the border between Union and UAS territory tried to take down a swarm of the undead with fire.
So now we have a giant brush fire working its way across several hundred--soon to be several thousand--acres of dry winter grass and scrub. Lacking the capacity to fight the blaze on a large scale, I've been tasked with helping coordinate communications between groups that need help evacuating and those who can give assistance.
Steve took off a few minutes ago with a group of seasoned soldiers to help provide security. Steve is one the people who desperately want to do something of value but recognize the wisdom in avoiding confrontations with the UAS where possible.
He and fourteen others tore out of here at breakneck speed in five vehicles including three tanks (the homemade kind, not actual tanks). I have no doubt that Steve will report in regularly and give us some idea of the situation on the ground. I cried when I gave him a goodbye hug. Just wet eyes, really, maybe a single tear rolled down my face like that commercial with the sad Indian. Steve has been there for me...I was going to say in the last six months, but the truth is he has been my shoulder to cry on and my willing listener for more than a decade. We've known each other since we were fourteen. That's a lot of history.
And he was probably the definitive person to get me over the hump with my depression. His help has also given me a way to manage my panic attacks. He did it all without being asked or even expecting thanks. I wasn't just a problem to be solved. I was a person in need. I can't say this is an example of how deep our friendship goes, though it is, because Steve would have done the same for anyone. He's that kind of guy. I have literally seen him give the shirt off his back to someone in need.
I told him to report in as regularly as possible. From what I understand, he and his team should reach the staging point for the evacuation effort by late this afternoon to early evening. If I know Steve at all, he and his teams won't rest when they get there. It'll be a night of hard work after a day of driving nonstop. Again, for total strangers.
I wish I were with him, but I'm quite glad to be doing something useful here. Something to help. I only worry that the tinderbox down south doesn't burn any of my friends or fellow Union members. As fast as we've mobilized, signs point to us being ahead of the fires by a decent margin.
For all of you out there; stay away from the border. We'll send out mass messages to tell you where it's safe to travel. For now that will have to be enough; I need to get some sleep and let Big K fill in for me while I nap. Back to it in a few hours.
This may prevent me from posting tomorrow. Sorry if that's the case.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Tender
Posted by Josh Guess
Late yesterday evening something interesting happened. I would say 'good' here, but ultimately I'll leave that judgment up to you. I'll keep it s
hort because I'm still running a sleep deficit that cries to be balanced.
A group of Union citizens were on the run, trying to evacuate from their small camp near the border. The fire caught them off guard, forcing them to pull up stakes and pack away everything they could before the flames got to them. Their way into Union territory was cut off. They had no choice but to angle northwest and briefly dip into UAS land where a group of UAS soldiers found them.
Our people were small in number, just a family of five on their way from one community to another. They were on the road when the warnings hit, out of contact and unaware of the danger. The UAS patrol stopped them a few hundred yards inside the border, asked them questions for a while then the UAS soldiers did something surprising. They escorted our people north until they were out of the fire's range, then let them cross back over into our territory.
It was unknown to our citizens at the time but there was something of a disagreement over this between the soldiers and their commanding officer. From the description of the event passed on by the Union citizens, it appears the members of the patrol were real, honest-to-god soldiers. Like, men and women who used to be in the military. Their leader didn't seem to be. No military bearing, very sloppy appearance and undisciplined attitude.
It was only when our people crossed the border, stopped their vehicle, exited and waved to the people who had helped them that they saw the result of that kind act; a fight between several members of the UAS patrol. It seems the leader of the group was furious and trying to order his men across the border to retrieve our people. Most of the soldiers seemed to disagree.
The long and short of it is that the commanding officer and the few soldiers on his side were dropped right then and there. Shot by people who disagreed about what should be done with five innocent people who meant no harm to them. Our citizens watched the whole thing play out, and were waved off by the victors.