Adrian's Undead Diary Enter the World of AUD

December 31^st.

                Well here I sit.  It’s New Year’s eve.  I’ve had some beer.  Canadian kind, with the good alcohol content.  Feeling a smidgy tipsy right at the moment  here.

                I’m in a good mood, mercifully enough.  Not too sad, or angry or bitter or nothing. 

                FUCK DOGS dude!  They are still hanging out and about, barking their asses off every time they see shit.  We need to come up with a plan like, tomorrow and shit to dealwith them.  Either bring them in and feed them something, or send their asses to doggy heaven.

                There’s a question fer ya.  Where did the animals go when they died?  Are they stuck in the shit other world, or has this affected them at all?  Fuck dogs man.

                Otis for the win.

                I love my cat. 

                He’s chilling on the bed with me right now, not fucking barking.  Nor does he eat a lot.  He have cat food for him for a year if it doesn’t rot first.  Fuck dogs man.  What would we feed dogs?  We didn’t collect dog food all this time.  I bet it’s all rotten and shit.  WE’d have to fgeed them our food, and fuck that man.  We need all of our food.

                We need a plan.  A good one.  One that doesn’t involve me doing shiznat, because all I’d do is head to the top of the wall with my new weapon, and shoot the strays that could bite me in the dick.  The small ones can stay, but if they keep barking, I’ll punch them in the dick.

                I love beer.

                I hope next year is better than this year was.  I want less of my friends to die next year.  That’s all I want.  That’s all I fucking want.

                I want my friends to stop dying.

                Cheers to that toast.

                -Adrian

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December 28^th.

                Lots to report on here.  I’ve inserted myself into the rotation for things to do outside of the wall again, and it’s nice to get out and get my hands a little dirty again.  I haven’t had to pull a trigger yet, but being outside the wall on an operation still gets the blood pumping, and allows me a few moments of fear to try and work down that feeling of paralysis I had the night I almost shot (check that, didn’t shoot)Sylvia.

                Yesterday I went for the walk through the woods to the cabin Sylvia’s family died in.  We had wanted to remove the wood stove in it since we found her, and that’s what we did.  Ethan, back from a long stint at MGR drove the school’s four wheeler, and myself, Kevin, Blake, and Quan went on foot. 

                It was nice to be on foot patrol again.  If it wasn’t for the cold, and the light snow on the ground, and the green forest, it would’ve been exactly like doing a foot patrol in Iraq.  I know that sounds completely different, but what I’m really saying is that if FELT the same.

                Walking spaced out, weapons up, nomex gloves on, fully kitted with body armor and weapons, watching everyone else do the right things at the right time…  It felt nice.  It felt comfortable.  It was dangerous, but with those people, it felt safe.  I asked the guys to do a combat breach of the cabin, and we formed a stack like the good old days, and went in for the clear.  I felt really rusty doing this with guys that have a LOT more active duty time.  They were spot on precise, and I made a couple minor blunders.  Kevin assured me they were minor, and not a big deal, but ANY mistake around guys like that seems magnified a hundred times.

                I did feel like I was much more of a part of the team after the breach though.  The guys saw me in action for the first time, and I wasn’t a FNG.  I held my own enough that they knew they could trust me if the shit went south.

                I really needed that for my ego.  I really needed to get that look on their faces that they approved of me.  It felt great when I saw it on their faces.  I didn’t even know I was fishing for approval from these people, but I certainly was.  I could FEEL the relief.

                Blake was a bit behind, but held his own as well.  He’s only just getting back into shape himself, and he came along mostly for engineering smarts on the stove removal.  Speaking of which, that went well.  The trailer on the four wheeler was large enough and strong enough to hold it, and with our group of terribly manly men, we were able to get it off the wall, and move it out of the run down cabin and into said trailer.

                We pulled the entire stove pipe, wall mounts, and the bricks the stove sat on too.  It slowed the four wheeler down to a fucking crawl on the way back, but in reality, we were moving at foot speed anyway, so it was a wash.  Right now the stove is in storage.  We don’t NEED it in any of the buildings right at the moment, so there was no sense in installing it.  It’s in the gymnasium near the hydroponics set up.

                What else…  Let’s see.  While we were out the work on clearing the path to the waterfront for the tower resumed.  It’s slow going, but steady work.  We’re cutting the trees down with chainsaws, dragging them out with the backhoe, and cutting them down to lumber size chunks.  It’s a bitch making lumber with the tools we have, but we’re making do.  I’m guessing we have about ten or twelve days of cutting to go before we are at the waterfront.  Somewhere in there we need to rip up stumps before the ground freezes (that or ignore them until spring), then build the damn tower itself.

                That’ll be a motherfucker as the weather turns south on us, which could be any day.  So far, this winter has been far milder than last, which is great.  We can use every single day of warmer weather we are given.

                Oh, and another minor pain in the ass is dogs.  Legit dogs.  They’ve been skulking around at the gates the past few days as a pack.  I guess the video feeds have been accurate.  I’d say it was a non issue, but the damn things are barking at us when they see or hear us through the gates.  I don’t want all that noise, especially late at night.  Now that sounds stupid in my head when I know we’ve been running chainsaws and hacking trees down with axes, but you get my drift.  I just don’t want animals drawing in undead.

                Plus I fucking hate dogs now.  The thought of dogs here inside the walls makes my fucking skin crawl.  I’d like to start a holocaust on all dogs taller than the middle of my calf.  If it can reach my groin, I want it gone. 

                Yep, I’m a hater.  Deal with it.

                Not much else to report from the last couple days.  School starts again tomorrow for a few days, and campus other than the dogs barking has been quiet.  MGR continues to see a slight increase in the amount of dead, which tells us that when we do restock them in a few days, we’re probably going to leave an extra body behind for staffing.  I hate to spread ourselves so thin, but additional personnel aren’t exactly around for hiring, and even if they were, our food situation is bad enough as it is. 

                99 problems... right?

                -Adrian

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December 26^th.

                I’m kind of uncomfortable today.  Not a whole lot makes me uncomfortable.  I’m one of those “I don’t give a fuck” kind of people.  Clearly I do give a fuck, but when I actually become uncomfortable, I do a damn good job of hiding it, thus keeping my true feelings hidden.

                Why am I uncomfortable Mr. Journal?  Because I got a LOT of Christmas presents yesterday.  More than I deserve in my opinion, and quite a few more than I think is okay, and “normal,” especially considering the times we live in.

                I can’t recall exactly who gave me what as I sit here writing this, but I received all manner of strange things.  Obviously they are all homemade or scavenged, but I got a LOT of gifts.  It was creepy.

                I woke up fairly early Christmas morning because we were putting on a big breakfast for the kids in the cafeteria.  I wanted to get down there early to help.  I checked the video feeds out of habit, and radioed to Hal and Abby who were on graveyard shift last night to check in.  Both said they saw nothing all night other than a few stray animals in the woods.  Abby said she thought she saw an actual dog, but Hal thought it was a fox or coyote.  I might check the tapes later to double check, but I have a case of the fuckits right now.

                Anyway, I took a quick shower after turning the generator on and letting it warm the hot water tank.  I gave myself a celebratory beat off session while that was going on, and once I was dressed up and ready, I left Hall E.  When I got to the cafeteria, there were piles of wrapped presents piled under the large tree.  I guess something should be said about the amazing amount of Christmas wrapping paper people had stored in their homes.  A few of the team went house to house and picked up the rolls in closets to get this all done.  Thanks to them, the kids got everything wrapped.

                Anyway, I smiled, and went about helping the fairly large group of people already there.  The breakfast was pancakes with what turned out to be still good maple syrup, fresh eggs, fresh bread, fresh milk, stale coffee and tea, and some of the last of the orange juice concentrate we still had.  The kids rolled in, excited as balls, and the remainder of the adults that weren’t committed to safety and security came in as well.  Many of the folks brought more presents, and by the time we were all there, all accounted for, there had to be a hundred presents there.

                After breakfast, the wrapping paper saw its end.  Melissa, Amanda and Michelle disseminated the presents to the people they were gifted to, and time and time again the presents were brought over to me.  I took a seat far off to the side, out of the way, and they kept bringing them over to me, stacking them higher and higher.

                When it was all said and done, I had presents stacked waist high.

                Yeah, I felt a little uncomfortable.  Of course everyone else there was super happy that I had so many presents, and I seriously think that they all sat there, waiting for me to start opening mine before they began to open theirs.  I obliged them.

                I had jams and jellies made from the berries we’ve picked from the campus bushes.  I had loaves of fresh baked bread made from the eggs from our chickens, and the little bit of flour we have left.  I got gloves from the Air Force guys (nomex, thank you very much dudes), and a pile of CDs to burn into the laptop here from Abby.  Turns out while she was doing house searches she was collecting discs.  I listen to a lot of music, and the new stuff will increase my overall level of musical culture.

                I received homemade cards thanking me for giving people a safe place to live, and food to eat, as well as a nice new maglite, and a container of lotion from Kevin.  Turns out, he really does know me well.

                I feel like a major league dick for not getting anyone a gift.

                I also feel… very weird about all the attention, and the gifts.  It seemed like everyone felt the need to give to me to thank me for what’s happened here.  I appreciate the sentiment and all, but it’s just… odd.  I felt like these people were leaving offerings at my altar for Christ’s sake.  It was fucked up.

                I guess I’ll get over it.  I left all the food downstairs in the kitchen here in Hall E so the other folks living in the building could reap the benefits.  All I’ve smelt since yesterday is the scent of toast and jelly.  It’s a nice smell.

                Sigh.  I wonder if this is how Kings got egos.  When the people in charge have their asses kissed as much as I get mine kissed, you can’t help but get a little egotistical about things.  It’s empowering.  It’s a great feeling to have so many people look up to you.  To feel like a success finally.

                Well, to feel like a success despite my largest single failure.  I’ve been thinking a lot about Cassie since Mallory and I went splitsville.  It’s probably because with no regular sex I’ve been thinking a lot about the sex I’ve had with others.  Cassie was the person I had the most sex with… so that makes sense.  It also makes sense that I’d be thinking of her more because of the holidays.  The last real Christmas I had was with her, and opening presents yesterday made me think of the last time I opened presents.  Which made me think of her, and you get the drift.

                She’s been on my mind the past couple of days, and I’ve been thinking a lot about how I never went to see her, or find her, or whatever that day.  It still haunts me.  All these long, hard months later and when I am alone, I go right back to that one big mistake.

                I wonder if that was all part of this master plan on the part of… God or whatever.  Have Adrian make one huge judgment error so he can survive the apocalypse and become the savior of fucking mankind.  Have Adrian make one huge error so he can torture himself when he tries to sleep at night, and when he wakes up and night, and when he eats just one serving of food, alone, yet again.

                I guess this will bother me forever.  At least when I was fucking Mallory I forgot about it.  I wonder if I could talk one of the women here into fucking me regularly so I could squash down these memories and feelings of guilt.

                I’m also seriously thinking about doing some dangerous outside the wall runs to get the adrenaline flowing more, shake the case of the pussies I had, and to distract myself.  All my jogs, and pushups, and sit ups and shit are getting my body into shape, but they are leaving my mind unoccupied far too much every day.

                Sigh.  It’s good that I can rant here in the journal.  If I shared everything that haunted me I’d ruin every sense of confidence that anyone had in me.  I need to be bulletproof.  I need to be the man that got shot, and got up like it was a mosquito bite.  I need to be the man that doesn’t pull the trigger on a girl because it’s the RIGHT thing to do, and not because he was too afraid to do it.

                I need to be stronger.  I need to be a… dammit.  I need to be a role model.

                Ha.  There’s the big cosmic fucking joke of them all.  Adrian Ring, failure at most things in life the role model.  The leader of men and women, the supposed savior of mankind.  If anyone here is the savior it’s Michelle, or even Kevin.  Fuck Abby would be a better person than I am.

                I’m far too flawed to be a good role model.  I feel like I’m faking it.

                I feel like I’m being far too goddamn melodramatic the day after a pretty sweet Christmas. 

                There have been some interesting developments today.  MGR is reporting a slight surge in the undead presence downtown.  Previously they’d been seeing perhaps one or two a day, far off in the distance moving about, but for three straight days now they’ve seen as many as twelve a day.  They have gotten good at paying attention to the individual undead they are seeing, and keeping detailed notes on them too, so when they say they’re seeing new undead, they mean it.  These are NEW faces, brought in or moved about from elsewhere.

                Kevin and Mike brought up the attacks on MGR by the living when I was out, and how we never really tracked the last of those people down.  We have no idea if they are out there still, or if they are part of a larger group of survivors that we need to be worried about.

                As a result of the increased undead presence near MGR we’re seriously considering adding more bodies there for regular security.  We’re restocking MGR early in the New Year, and we’re likely leaving one extra person and adding a few hundred rounds of ammo to their stockpile on hand.  Martin is also drafting up ideas to fortify the lower entrances yet again in the event the building is assaulted once more.

                Either way, we’re devoting extra time on the video feeds to making sure we’re aware if anything happens there.  If they’re hit hard and are unable to radio for help, we want to see it, and respond in force with our QRF.

                Hell will have nothing on us.

                -Adrian

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