Living With the Dead: The Hungry Land (Book 3) Read online

  We've been in touch with the folks in Shelbyville who left here a few weeks ago to settle in the small fortress there. They're doing well, and have discovered many more hidden caches of food and supplies. Their late-season crops are thriving, and as several of them are pregnant women, we've invited them here to receive as much prenatal care as Evans, Phil, Gabby and the medical staff are capable of providing. It goes without saying our docs and nurses will handle the births if at all possible.

  Our visiting friends from North Jackson have received good news from home: large swathes of wild grain and other crops discovered near NJ. Well, relatively so. Within a hundred and fifty miles. NJ is doing well with food production and management considering the huge number of people they've got to provide for. They're looking to use this new boon of extra edibles for trade as well. The more, the merrier. I hope the representatives from NJ can harvest and get here in time. I'd hate to see such strong allies miss out.

  Overall, the outlook is good. None of us have dismissed the threat the exiled homesteaders pose, but we won't live under constant worry, either. Well, yeah, we will be constantly worried about it. Hard not to be concerned with people who have guns, know how to use them, and think your head would look extra snazzy with a few new holes in it.

  We just won't let them dictate the terms or our lives. The zombie swarms mean we already live in constant danger. We already worry about attack all the time. It's manageable if the proper attention is given to defense and keeping a keen eye open for danger. The exiles are just one more threat on top of a stupidly dangerous world.

  So, life will go on. We'll deal with them when and if the time comes, but we won't let worry cloud our excitement over the ties we'll build with the other communities in on the trading. Not to mention the benefits of trading things we make for stuff we need. Until now, the barter system wasn't doing much for us. Transportation will be harder down the road, but we'll cross that bridge when it comes, too. For now we're happy to make friends, make profitable trades, and enjoy the sunshine while it's here.

  Sunday, August 21, 2011

  Free Market

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Tomorrow we're expecting several of the envoys from other communities of survivors to arrive. We tried to plan everything out so that everyone arrives within a day and a half of each other. We've prepped the theater by putting up stalls for each set of representatives to operate from.

  Of course, the whole thing is a huge pain in the ass. I mean, anything worth doing is usually difficult and frustrating to the point of driving you insane. Here we are, on the cusp of building a new system of trade for the betterment of mankind, and I'm having to help figure out how to keep everyone safe. It's detail work. I'm good at that.

  We've got teams clearing the roads and sweeping zombies as we find them. It's not so bad right now, since the local undead have learned New Haven equals death. Real death, not the walking about type. We know eventually the locals will starve or wander away, and new ones will migrate in. That's long term. Right now we want to keep the roads safe for out incoming guests.

  Our teams have seen a lot of fires around Frankfort as they've cleared the roads. Campfires, small ones. We've been idiots about our exiles. We assumed they were moving around in a large group, maybe two. It's like they don't care if we see their camps after they abandon them. From the tracks we've seen and the other signs they left behind, it looks like no more than four to a group.

  And, they have vehicles. Big, heavy ones. Will and Dodger are certain they must have brought them into town very recently, or we'd have seen signs.

  All in all, not very encouraging. No one in New haven is exactly thrilled to find out the exiles are still here, much less apparently escalating their activities. It's damn annoying.

  So, I want to give them a message. Exiles, Homesteaders, this bit is for you:

  I suggest you stay away. If you come after us, we won't hold back. We gave you a chance to live by forcing you out of New Haven, and you should take it. Walk away. Don't contact us, come near us, or threaten our allies. Do those things and there's no reason why we can't all continue with our lives, happily untouched by violence.

  If you come, the consequences are on you. Not us. You've been warned.

  So, yeah. That's going on. You'd think after all the shit we've had to put up with lately, the exiles' activities would be worrisome and frightening. Our recovery is still fragile and young.

  It's just the opposite. We've seen hell, lived through it, and come out stronger. Anything short of actual violence is a background thought. An annoyance. Our thoughts are for the future, on building. Not on simply waiting always for the other shoe to drop. Prepare, train, and be ready for the fight.

  The fight can't be our only reason anymore. Human beings have to become something better than that.

  Monday, August 22, 2011

  Convergence

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Today's the day. I could barely sleep for the excitement of knowing the lingering problems we've had since the major zombie attack many weeks back will be over. The representatives from the various groups of survivors will begin to arrive this morning, and everyone in New Haven is buzzing about the possibilities.

  It's been a rough time lately even though things have gotten better. We've had enough to eat, or at least enough to keep us from hunger pains. Our hunts and luck finding small caches of food here and there have been enough to allow us to stockpile for the winter. Well, that's more of a best-case idea. Really, our stocks were put to the side in case our luck ran out before then. Plentiful game and good fishing in the streams and rivers aren't guarantees. We could have run out of luck any day and been forced to use the canned and cured food we've managed to build up.

  Today is a turning point, though. We're going to play host to many people who wish to trade with us. Some of them want to trade food, others have supplies and pieces of technology we might be able to use. The first rounds of trading for us will mainly focus on food, and if we can get hold of some useful items that we need, so much the better. Or, we might trade them in the second round for more food, which I think most people in New Haven would prefer.

  It should be several hours before the first of them begin to arrive, which gives our scouts and hunters a bit more time to make sure the ways into town are as safe as possible. The total count of zombies cleared from the various roads in yesterday was seven hundred thirty four. Most of them in ones and twos, though there were a few pockets of a dozen or more that had to be cleared carefully. The number seems so high, partially because we never see so many undead together unless they're attacking. We usually leave small groups of them alone, as it's not worth the risk to our people to kill a few of them.

  I think our outlook on that is changing now, too. With five working vehicles outfitted specifically to kill zombies, taking them out is a lot easier. The idea floating around is to run regular sweeps around town to keep them from joining together into large swarms. They don't like the smell of their own kind burning, either, so pyres all over the place might do some good in the long term.

  Today we're all on high alert. Though we haven't had any more signs of our exiles, we're keeping a watchful eye in case they try something with the incoming envoys. We're worried about that, but not consumed by it. We'll deal with what comes, if it comes, and not waste too much energy needlessly fretting beforehand.

  In a few days' time, we'll be flush with edibles again, have trade agreements set up to keep that food coming, and will be able to start taking in the sick and injured to treat them. Gabby thinks we can do a lot of good by utilizing our medical personnel to work out trades, just like she, Evans, and Phil did during our own exile.

  It's a beautiful morning outside. The sun is painting the clouds, the breeze is brisk and strong, and our futures all look a little brighter. You can't ask for better than that.

  Funny. Today is my mom's birthday. A part of me is glad she missed so many of the awful things we've exper
ienced. She was a strong woman, and to lose her as we did after she survived The Fall where so many others didn't was tragic. She made it through what should have been the worst, and a simple fire took her away from us.

  The other half of me is sad that she isn't here to see how far we've come. I know she'd be proud of us, and would have been the first to congratulate everyone on our determination to stick together. She's laud Gabby's creativity and ingenuity and the craze for special projects it spawned.

  She's gone, though. I know if she'd survived, my mother would have been so happy to see communities coming together like this. Her children survive, and their children. And because of our efforts, all of them will have better lives than they would without them. If she's watching right now, I know it's with a smile on her face.

  That's enough for me.

  Tuesday, August 23, 2011

  Arrivals

  Posted by Josh Guess

  So far, three groups of envoys from other communities of survivors have made their way here. I have to assume our extra patrols and watches along the routes into town have done what we intended, as there have been no zombie sightings or attacks from the exiles. So far, so good.

  Trading isn't going to begin until all parties have arrived. That's a change from what we'd planned on doing, but everyone we've talked to has agreed. We all feel that the interests of everyone are best served by creating as open and even a playing field as possible. After all, we're trying to establish some kind of economy here. It helps that we here in New Haven have more to offer than we originally thought--there are lots of calls for fuel trades, but not gasoline. They want ethanol to mix in. Turns out we aren't the only ones to use flex fuel vehicles.

  Lucky for us we have way more of the stuff than we can use. In fact, we're even looking into different sorts of wild plants to ferment to make more. We've certainly got the facilities for it. Chalk one up for Frankfort being a huge booze capital of the south. That's long term, though. Right now there are tens of thousands of gallons of alcohol just waiting to be distilled down into a purer form. We won't run out any time soon.

  In a world filled with the walking dead, the last thing you'd think we need is another daunting stress factor hanging over us. We've got one with these new trade agreements. It's a good stress, because we're innovating and encouraging others to do so, and everyone gets to walk away better than they started. The stark truth remains: the more you build, the more you have to lose.

  Today is going to be an even busier one than yesterday, so this post will necessarily be short. We're in a short window between arrivals, but Jess and I are going out on scout duty in about twenty minutes. The soldiers from North Jackson are helping bolster our numbers, but the majority of them stay behind to protect the folks still working like mad on the outer wall. It's shaping up very well. We've run through an insane amount of diesel fuel managing it, and we've scoured every drop we could find in town, but we should have enough to finish the rest of the project. There are a lot of empty gas tanks out there now...

  Guess we'll have to send people out to scout for more diesel. Not a priority, but we should at least plan for it. Fuel may grow to be a major trade item for us. That gives me ideas.

  Fifteen minutes to go. I need to grab a snack and make sure my armor is sound. There might not be too many zombies out, but that's always when they hit you in the movies: when you least expect it! I won't be caught off guard.

  Wednesday, August 24, 2011

  Smoke

  Posted by Josh Guess

  Just as dawn broke, the traders from around the country who braved the open roads with their swarms of zombies and roving marauders came together in our theater. The start of the day was also the beginning a new era of cooperation and a new economy.

  Naturally, that's when the exiles chose to attack.

  I don't have a lot of time, but I'll give you the gist of it: they must have positioned themselves at night. They were close. They swept in driving their armored vehicles and firebombed the hell out of us. Oh, not the homes. That would have destroyed them. They hit the inner wall, the wooden one.

  The North Jackson soldiers were inside, since work on the outer wall hadn't begun for the day. No time to react, no time to stop them.

  The inner wall is still on fire. I don't know what the exiles used in their concoctions, but whatever was inside those bottles is almost impossible to put out with water. And we've used a lot of water.

  It's brilliant, don't you see? They'll burn down the inner wall and have an open way in through the unfinished section of the outer one. They might kill some of us with the smoke that hangs inside New Haven like fog. Even if we put the fires out and escape choking to death on smoke, they know we'll have used up the majority of our water. Without rain, we'll dehydrate in days.

  All they have to do is sit tight where we can't sight them through a rifle scope (not that it would do much good with them behind bulletproof glass...) and wait for us to come out.

  That's the state of things.

  Thursday, August 25, 2011

  Through the Fire and Flames

  Posted by Josh Guess

  We're in a lot of trouble here. One thing we honestly didn’t' think about was how badly the smoke has limited our visibility. We spent yesterday soaking the parts of the inner wall that hadn't caught fire yet as well as the ground around it. That would have been helpful if the exiles hadn't come back and hit us with a second round of firebombs.

  The inner wall is burning still. Slowly, but as inexorably as ice melting in the spring. I don't know how long we can stymie the process, but it's just a matter of time before it breaks down completely.

  So far everyone here, including our many guests, are taking the attack well. One good thing about dealing with other groups of survivors--they don't lose their heads easily. Nor do they blame us for this. They came of their own free will, knowing the exiles were out there. Really, the hardest part is keeping everyone from attempting to go out and find the exiles. We know they're staying close, since they've been able to hit us so very hard at a moment's notice. We didn't hear them until it was too late on this second round of attacks. Our spotters in the towers couldn't see where they came from or went.

  Which sucks.

  There's no sense of despair here, which is amazing. Everyone's spirits are dim but not yet dark. We'll figure something out, it's just a matter of time.

  Oh, shit. I think we just got lucky. I'm pretty sure I just heard thunder.

  I don't know what the next few days will bring, but I'll do everything I can to stay in touch. I'll post when possible, and try to update all of you on how things are progressing.

  I can hear the patter of raindrops on the roof. Hopefully we'll get a good drenching, enough to put out the inner wall and maybe enough wind to give our spotters some ability to see outside the walls. This smoke is maddening.

  There are ideas being worked on. That's all I can say for now...

  Friday, August 26, 2011

  Blackened

  Posted by Josh Guess

  I write our lives here so much and so often that sometimes it's hard to remember that it's not a story. The heroes don't always win. The villains don't always get their just desserts. In fact, the line between the two is never as clear in reality as it is in my mind. We're not archetypes. We're people.

  We are each of us a curious mixture of good and bad, smart calls and rash decisions. We all have moments of selfishness and grace to varying degrees. None of us are perfect saints, and none of us soulless devils. We're complicated and layered, and that makes it hard to understand each other. It makes us regret some decisions. It's hard for us to kill those we once called family, but in the last day we've done it. We know the exiles were good folks at one point, which made it that much harder to do it.

  We also know they're capable of terrible acts, which makes it that much harder to deal with the fact that most of them got away. The survivors are out there. After the events of the last day, I don't know
if they'll dare come here again, but the threat is there.

  Here's how it went down:

  It wasn't like a video game. There was no definitive boss fight at the end. There wasn't really even a battle.

  As the inner wall was being put out by yesterday's rain, the smoke intensified. If you've ever put out a campfire with water (and if you read this blog, you almost certainly have) then you know what this means. The exiles saw the clouds roll in, same as we did. They knew it wouldn't be long before the fires were out. They knew their time to attack us was limited, since the rain would also replenish our dwindling water supplies.

  They came for us. About half of their armored vehicles moved for the weakest point, which was the unfinished section of outer wall. The inner wall there was hit hard, little more than a fragile shell. The exiles knew we'd defend it heavily, so they did the smart thing and formed a semicircle outside, their gunners taking aim at our folks inside. A few of them shot at the watchtowers, but we'd emptied them out.