Living With the Dead: The Wild Country Read online

  The facilities here are better than anything we have back home, and the few chemists here have managed to collect other parts of waste products and distill elements and compounds from them. It's neat. It's also too much to go into here.

  We'll be here for a few days, and then off. I need to hammer out some details with the leadership before we head out. Seeing what I've seen, I've had a few ideas for trades I'd love to make.

  Wednesday, September 7, 2011

  Ecosystem

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Saw something really neat this morning. The North Jackson leadership is being very generous by giving us some food to take with us, most of it in the form of potatoes and dried meat. Rather a lot of dried meat. Which isn't all that odd except that we've had fresh meat with each meal we've had since arriving.

  I asked about that, and the guy assigned to be our aide took us out to a farm. It's only a mile or so from the edge of the main complex, and it's HUGE. Like, all capital letters huge. When I said they've been stripping places bare, I may have been understating the case.

  The very large tract of land NJ is using to raise animals is surrounded by fences and barriers. It's the sort of hodgepodge you grow to expect from groups of survivors who use whatever they can find to build things. The really neat thing about the animal enclosure is that for the most part, it's a living ecosystem. There are two small ponds and a large creek running through it, and the populations of animals inside live as naturally as possible. Except for the fact that they're in a pen and the population controls they live under, it's pretty close to the way they'd live in the real world.

  Add the animals they slaughter to keep the habitat viable to the hunting they do as far as a hundred miles away, and you get a place that has access to a surplus of meat.

  North Jackson needs that. While I've been writing this, there have been two attacks of moderate size by zombies. 'Moderate' being a term relative to the size of this community. If either of them had hit New Haven, our people would have all been called to defend at once. The soldiers and guards can't use ammonia for every attack, but it isn't necessary for medium ones like today. So, they fight. Every day.

  Protein is important. We all know that. Physiologically, animal meat contains fat for energy, protein to build muscle, B12 for proper mental function. Beyond that, the psychological satisfaction from feeling full and strong, not fighting constant and exhaustive battles, is priceless.

  That simple difference between North Jackson and New Haven makes this place seem like a whole other world. My people are doing better now than they were six weeks ago by orders of magnitude, but we're still hungry. We've found a renewed determination and resolve, but as of yet no true level of comfort. My people still fight tired and hungry, still afraid of the slip-up that could kill us all. Not living in fear, but it's there.

  Not that I'm complaining. Not at all. My home is better off today than yesterday, and tomorrow better yet. I'm just starting to get into the mindset of understanding the differences between us. Everywhere we go from here on out will be a study in evolution, each community as isolated as the Galapagos islands. The people living in each will have their own strengths and weaknesses, needs and wants. I'm trying to look at those pieces of information and glean what understanding I can from them.

  Tonight or tomorrow we'll be heading out and the mission starts in earnest.

  Thursday, September 8, 2011

  North Country

  Posted by Josh Guess

  We're taking our first stop right now in Canada, and it's fucking COLD. I mean, the cold snap that hit us the last several days seemed to drive a stake into the heart of summer, but it never got below fifty-five in North Jackson.

  Right now it's in the forties, and the wind is blowing. We're a lot farther north than you'd think, because we've made amazing time getting up here. The roads have been empty of zombies and clear of debris. Now if only this unnaturally cold wind would die out, we'd be set.

  It's not all that bad for us, to be honest. Our setup is pretty secure from the elements, except that we have to go outside to use the bathroom. Since we've stopped for some breakfast, I can take a minute to tell you about our home for the next few...weeks? Months? Who knows.

  It's kind of a monstrosity to look at, I'll be honest. The main vehicle is an extended cab pickup truck. Obviously, it's a flex fuel vehicle. The truck has an extended bed which has walls welded to it to protect the tanks there. We've got enough fuel to get us amazingly far. Our mechanics made some very interesting modifications to this thing. It's very efficient for a truck.

  Fortunately, the place we're heading in Canada has a good stock of ethanol handy, and we're taking any gasoline we find along the way. I don't see us running completely dry any time in the near future.

  Friday, September 9, 2011

  Famous Last Words

  Posted by Josh Guess

  So that whole thing where I completely counted our chickens before they hatched was a bad idea. I should know better by now than to hand the universe an opening by saying things like, 'Everything is going well, we should be there soon'. It wasn't an hour after my last post that we hit an impassible road block. Trees, and lots of them, and us without a chainsaw.

  Which is dumb. We really should have thought to bring one since downed trees are such a big problem. No road crews to remove them now.

  We've spent a lot of time scouting alternate routes on foot since then. We're using maps, paper and electronic, to find a safe way to our destination, but the area of southern Canada we're in is pretty rough. It looks like one hell of a storm came through here at some point, ripping up trees and even breaking roadways. It's only been a day, and we aren't in a huge rush mainly because we're also scouting the area for useful stuff. We've replenished some fuel, but aside from that there isn't much. It's mainly taking so long because we don't want to burn more gas than we have to. Hoofing it is time consuming.

  Zombies are thin on the ground around here, too. We've seen several wandering about, moving very slowly and looking emaciated. I know the undead have a great capacity to store extra nutrients from the flesh they consume, but I begin to wonder at what point the organism controlling them starts to cannibalize the cells of the bodies that host them.

  I imagine the handful of them we've seen were lying dormant somewhere, just waiting for some outside stimulus to wake them. We've seen the ones back home do that a lot. Hopefully these aren't just the precursors to a larger swarm about to wake up. That would be the icing on the cake, wouldn't it?

  Other than that, not much to share here. The local environs have been effectively stripped of useful materials and supplies. It's farther south than I would have expected the group we're meeting with to have gone, and farther north than our friends in NJ range. Weird. Maybe there's and unknown group around here somewhere. That would be cool, I'd love to make a solid first contact with some new blood.

  Wow. I just reread that. I sound optimistic to the point of suicide, don't I? Let's hope I'm only joking there.

  Sunday, September 11, 2011

  Catch and Release

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Less than a week into our trip, and we're already dealing with a potential death-stroke to our mission. Will and Rachel have been captured.

  We spent all of yesterday and a lot of the day before trying to find where they'd been taken. It happened while we were scouting alternate routes to the group we were on our way to see. Will and Rachel went out together, as none of us goes anywhere alone, and it took a while to realize they'd been caught. One of them might be dead or severely injured. We found a liberal splash of blood at the scene of their capture.

  There was a fight, to be sure. We knew they were taken because their bodies weren't there, and zombies tend to leave pretty obvious messes. Plus, in the day and a half since, we've located where they're being kept. Mason is watching the place as I type this. Through the scope of a high-powered rifle.

  We've tried communicating wit
h the people inside the small fortress we're watching, but so far we haven't had any luck. At least we know why the area has been stripped of materials so thoroughly. This place is impregnable.

  Two large apartment buildings make up most of its living space. They're four stories tall and made of cinder block. Each floor looks like it has four apartments, good size ones. There's a wall fifteen feet tall at its lowest point surrounding the whole thing, all told about the area of a football field. I don't know what theses people do for farming, but it isn't inside their wall from what I can see. The wall itself is a hodgepodge of materials from aluminum siding to steel plate and wood. It's all held together by what looks like hardened foam of some kind. Probably the expanding polyurethane stuff used to insulate houses. I used to install that stuff, and the heavier versions of it are as good as cement.

  Hmm. I wonder if I could make armor molds with that stuff. I'll have to look into that....

  Mason and I are discussing the options with Steve and Becky at the moment. We're going to get Will and Rachel back, dead or alive, but we'd prefer not to have anyone killed. That the people who took them have a permanent residence says good things about them: they aren't averse to cooperative effort, probably aren't bloodthirsty killers, and are unlikely to be cannibals. I won't rule any of that out, but signs are mostly positive.

  We don't have a lot of choices. Becky is offering to walk to their gate and knock. We'll spend the next little while trying to come up with pretty much any alternative to that. I don't have high hopes. Yelling at them from the safety of the trees isn't working, and I don't think they've got electricity at all, so the internet isn't an option.

  Damn it.

  Monday, September 12, 2011

  Bang Bang Bang

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Yesterday, Mason killed three people. Living human beings each cut down in a blink of an eye. The purpose of our trip was to build new alliances and strengthen old ones. Yet in a flash of gunfire we made new enemies. The kind you aren't likely to lose.

  How it came about is a story unto itself.

  After much discussion we came to the conclusion that the only real option we had was the one least appealing: one of us would have to go up to the door and make our presence obvious. Becky ended up going, banging on their gate until someone poked their head over the top and yelled at her. The finer points of the discussion were lost to Mason, Steve, and I, as all of us were at a safe distance.

  After the fact, I know that Becky asked for our people back. I could see that the person speaking to her wasn't pointing a gun at her, but Mason was keeping an eye through the scope of his rifle just to be safe. Becky's body language was tense but not panicked, but that changed when the main gate opened.

  The idea was for her to ask for the release of Will and Rachel, no threats involved. She would explain the situation, that we were travelers heading toward a destination and were interested in setting up trade with everyone we could.

  She did all that, and the gates opened. Four men walked toward Becky, armed with weapons ranging from homemade spears to machetes. She didn't bolt in fear, but things were obviously going to get ugly. That was when I got on the bullhorn. I told them to stop coming toward Becky, but they wouldn't. I warned them that we'd open fire unless they halted and released our people. They didn't seem to care.

  It was lucky the men were so close together. Mason dropped three of them in less than ten seconds. The last one dropped his weapon and put his hands up in surrender. Apparently everyone else was inside the walls of their apartments. Next thing we saw, Will and Rachel were running toward the gate, met up with Becky, and all of them ran like hell toward the rest of us.

  We didn't waste a lot of time getting out of there. Will and Rachel brought back some observations and information about the place and the people in it, but that's for tomorrow. Right now, we're settling in at the community that has been our destination for so many days. We made it here in less than three hours after freeing our friends.

  A mission of peace and hope, and the first encounter we had with new survivors ended with shots fired and lives lost. I want to think it can only get better from here.

  Time and again, life has taught me the sad lesson that no matter how bad the situation, it can always get worse. We're alive, and safely tucked away with allies. That's about the best outcome we could have hoped for. Still, it doesn't feel like enough.

  Tuesday, September 13, 2011

  Testimonial

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I was going to share some of the observations Will and Rachel made during their captivity today, then update you on our progress with the group of survivors we're staying with. Instead I'm going to post a comment Rachel herself made on yesterday's blog:

  RichLayers said...

  Can I just say, for those of you who still have any doubts about Will's character or behavior -- fuck you.

  I was scared out of my mind for the last two days and I would have gone nuts if he hadn't been there.

  I mean, I am generally a pretty calm, mellow person, and I have seen my share of shit go down since All This Started. And I have generally kept my cool, I think it's fair to say of myself.

  But I have never been kidnapped at the point of weapons and locked up with NO IDEA what was going to happen to me. I have new levels of sympathy for the poor people who have been rescued from similar--or worse--situations, who are now at the compound.

  Last night we had been there just long enough that I thought the others must have gone on without us. (sorry for doubting you guys! xxoo) Will took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and said, "Rachel, I really think they'll get us out of this. But it doesn't matter. If they're gone, or if they're waiting for the right moment, it doesn't matter. We are here, together, and that means that we will get out of this together, whatever it takes. We're not going to be stuck here, we will go on or go home."

  After that I calmed down... well I was MORE calm, and we spent the night planning various strategies, which turned out to be unnecessary thanks to Mason and Becky. But I will say that Will is a strategic genius, and though he may have made mistakes, if you can't see by now that he was doing what he thought would save the most lives, then open your fucking mind. I challenge any of you to come up with something better if you were in his position, and the choice was between seeing immediate slaughter, or coming up with something else later.

  Ummm... anyway, we're okay. Thanks Josh, sorry for going all ranty on you there.

  She posted a second comment correcting her use of "the compound" instead of New Haven, but I think that's pretty understandable. I still think of home that way a lot of the time. I wanted to make this trip about our experiences as they related to the mission at hand, but the events we've lived through are important as well. I'll get back to that tomorrow. For now, I want all of you to read the above again. Maybe more of you will understand Will Price a little better. I hope so. He's done a lot of good, and now he's kept one of my oldest friends from possibly doing something stupid and getting herself hurt or killed. He was the voice of calm reason that helped her deal with a situation that would have tested any of us.

  I want you to think about that. Think about what Will has endured at our hands, and how the decisions he made must weigh on him. As heavy as those choices are to him, is it fair that we continue to add to them, knowing he saved lives by doing the hard thing?

  Ask yourself. You may not like the answer, but he deserves that much. Some men choose the easy way, others the difficult path. The best of us do what is right, and happily suffer the consequences.

  Wednesday, September 14, 2011

  New Breed

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Life after the end of the world can sometimes seem very black and white. Survivors tend to think of most things in black and white terms, and people are no exception. They're living or dead. Living ones are either marauders or simply survivors like the rest of us, scavengers that try not to do harm if it can
be avoided.

  It's easy to forget, due to the low numbers of living human beings left, that there we are amazingly diverse as a species. People will surprise you. It's a constant.

  Take Will and Rachel's observations during their captivity as example number one of this truth. Most marauders we've run into tend to rove around. Yeah, they will make a base for a little while to work from, but they don't stay in any place for more than a few weeks. They take what they want and move on.

  I tend to call the remaining people out there, including my own, survivors. Yes, I know all of us survived The Fall, but marauders don't fit the image in my mind when I think of survivors. They don't plan for the long haul, don't pick a spot and defend it in order to build something better and stronger. They don't have a sense of community with others. They travel and kill, taking what they want and putting in no work to get it.

  Until now, apparently. While temperaments vary, I've always thought of survivors as essentially one class of people, defined by their willingness to cooperate and their commitment to the group. From our point of view, the survival of the clan is predicated on the idea that banding together with common purpose and goals is the only real solution. Zombies are the largest threat by far, and two hundred people together are exponentially more equipped to deal with a swarm of the undead than one alone, or a bare handful. While we've had disagreements with other groups of survivors before, I have long held to the belief that it's impossible for any of us to do the things marauders because of the very basic empathy required to be a part of a community.