Blog Entries
July 30th Tags: 170th entry

July 30th.

                Very much a busy set of days here on and off campus.  I’ve got a lot of mundane detail to chronicle.  Where to begin Mr. Journal?

                Yesterday was a day of small fires that were fairly easy to put out, but irritating.  Our first and largest issue was coming up with an executable plan to install the repeater tower on top of MGR.  That took the majority of the day for those of us involved with that. 

                Ryan pulled me aside after that large meeting and made his huge plea to get more assistance on the hydroponics system in the gymnasium.  He has such a good point too.  We really need to hit the plumbing shop near Gilbert’s warehouse, but we’ve got other things to do first.  MGR needs to get done, and the repeater tower must be installed and operational, and we’ve got to staff the damn place first.  It just sucks that poor Ryan is taking it in the proverbial pants while we get our asses sorted out from our elbows on this.

                I really wish we could just get in the trucks and head out to that fucking restaurant supply business, but the reality is, we’d be killed.  I know it with complete certainty.  I’m really hoping Gilbert or Gavin comes to me in one of my famous dreams, and they send me some amazing message that makes my life go much easier.  I’m actually thinking that might be a possibility.  If anyone is going to come through for me in the clutch, it’s Gilbert. 

                I KNOW that with certainty.  Funny how things can change.  Now that I know the one man I completely trusted after the end of the world betrayed me, I feel like I trust him even more.  Sometimes trying to make sense of it all just makes things worse.

                While all that was going on, the rest of us on campus were working on the wall.  However, with a fairly small crew, they were only able to do about 30 feet.  Progress is progress though, and I’m happy whenever we can accomplish multiple things at the same time.  Especially multiple important things at the same time.  Very happy.

                Today had toe pusher written all over it.  Some turds circled the drain, and they got gently mashed down the grate, but fortunately none of us got pushed down with that shit.  Oh, speaking of which, Chris’ arm is broke in a few places.  I don’t remember how much detail I went into earlier, but it’s broken clean in three places.  He’ll be in a cast for at least six weeks according to Doc Lindsey.  For the moment though, he’s useless.  He’s on campus only duty for the moment, but at least he’s alive, and he still has his arm attached.

                As you might imagine, he didn’t accompany us on our trip to MGR today.

                Because of our recent attack at the municipal station, we elected to roll exceptionally heavy today.  We brought the semi trailer that had the tower in it obviously, plus two humvees, the ladder truck, and the HRT.  As far as staffing is concerned, we brought Mike, Hector, James (sitting in the HRT passenger seat operating as a shooter/spotter), Dwayne, Alex, George, Chad, Abby, Patty, Martin, Blake, and Angela.

                What scares me about that is it meant we left Ollie and Melissa in charge over all the new folks at campus.  Ollie is not a hardcore shooter, nor is Melissa, especially now that she’s getting big and fat with that spud inside her belly.  She’s been struggling with the pregnancy too, according to Ollie.  Lots of back pain and cramps at night I guess, and she’s had morning sickness here and there, but when it hits, Ollie says it’s debilitating.  I really don’t want to put any additional bullshit on her, but life is filled with it, and we all need to find a way to shovel it, or get buried in it.  It pained me to leave them behind, but we really needed the manpower for safety and security.

                Martin and Blake had a winch they found somewhere that was pretty industrially powered.  When we rolled into the MGR area of town, the first order of business was securing that area, and getting that winch to the top so we could get the tower up. 

                The undead presence at the base of MGR was very manageable all day.  I think the largest push we had all day was perhaps ten undead, and with all those well trained shooters it was a piece of cake.  I think the two worst parts were the waiting for those assholes that shot at us the other day to show up again, and the actual raising of the tower.  The raising didn’t go quite as smoothly, or as fast as we’d hoped.

                Here’s the laundry list of the shit that went awry on us:

                Martin and Blake had to attach the winch to the rooftop with a cement bolt gun, or whatever they call it.  They had to enter at the ground level and run all the way up to the roof carrying the damn winch, which was at least a three person job.  Fucking thing was heavy as balls.  When we were winching the tower up on the first try, two of the bolts holding the winch came loose from the roof, and the winch was maybe five seconds from ripping free and sending the whole tower smashing to the ground.  Fortunately, Blake was a ninja on the winch, and hit the switch letting the cable play out.  The tower slid down, and he managed to hit the switch again just in time to catch it before it crashed.  The winch ripped free from the moorings at that moment, but only went about five feet before clanging off some air conditioning unit on the roof.  Talk about lucky.

                They had to remount the winch, as well as tie some length of rope to the tower to steer it as well as add some manpower to take the strain off the winch itself.  The second attempt was far more successful.  Getting it up and over the edge of the building turned out to be a task that required extra people.  Leveraging that much weight up and over the corner was something they couldn’t do easily.

                Once they got the tower up to the roof we miscalculated the amount of area needed to move the damn tower around in, and they needed extra assistance from the security folks to get it all done.  I wound up running up to the top of the building to lend an extra two hundred pounds of muscle to get it all done.  We needed to more or less tip this thirty odd foot tall tower upright using just muscle, and a single nylon cord wrapped around what I think was a fire sprinkler pipe.  I think I busted a disc or two in my back doing it, but we got it upright and in position.

                Hector and Blake took over mounting the tower.  They used a tap and die set to get bolt mounts put into somewhere solid, but even after fully bolting the tower down, they all thought that it’d need wires as well to keep it from blowing away.   Blake and Martin are going to scour campus and the surrounding towns to find strong wire and appropriately strong clips to attach it with.

                Hector started to run the wiring and the gear down to the fifth floor of the building, but once he started the whole process, it became clear that there was no way he was going to get it done in any kind of a reasonable timeframe.  He elected to remain behind by himself to get more work done.  We were really not keen on him staying alone there to do work, and without a minute’s hesitation, Dwayne raised his big ass hand and volunteered to stay with him.

                Dwayne’s a big guy, and he’s smart as well, so the two of them were a really great pair to get technical work done safely.  Once we’d made sure they had enough ammunition, food and water to last at least through two nights we packed everything up, and left MGR.  As we drove back, we calculated the exact distance the radios work, and they don’t quite reach campus.  As in, there was a three mile span of dead silence.

                Clearly worrisome.  However, it’s not like we haven’t spent nights or days apart before.  Like when I was scouting Westfield, and was out of radio contact for extended periods.  It just worries me to have anyone out of my realm of protection for any period of time.  What’s that called?  A paternal instinct?  Fucked if I know.  I don’t feel like a dad to these people.

                Oh, and I’ve forgotten to mention that Hector and Blake both fully believe that there isn’t enough power available at MGR to properly run the repeater, as well as deal with the energy needs that the staff there will be requiring.  We need to get another generator transported there, and if we can, I’d like to find more solar panels to go there.  I now feel like a tool for moving the solar panels from there to the gym, but at least now we’ve some power going to the pumps and lights for the hydro setup on campus.

                So here’s the plan for now.  We’re guessing it’ll take a day or two for Hector to get the tower more or less hooked up and running.  I’m not sure what he’s going to need for the long term to make it permanent and functional, but I believe he has enough for now to get it up and running.  I KNOW we need more power there, as well as here on campus, and that’s now our main priority.

                We’re breaking up into two parties tomorrow to go outside the wall to look for more solar panels, and portable power generators.  We need a beefy one to go there to run everything in tip top shape, or at least a smaller one and a few solar panels to run together.  Hector’s got enough brains to hook it all up, we just need to give him the proper tools to make it happen.

                I’m really hoping we find panels.  I know I wasn’t looking for them when I was clearing houses all winter, and if you add the fact that most roofs were covered in snow at the time anyway, I’m betting there are at least four or five houses around here that have panels we can remove. 

                As I said, our reliance on diesel and gasoline needs to get addressed, and quickly.  We also need to hit Gilbert’s place, and finish the wall, and go to the clinic in Westfield, get the rest of Lenny’s cows from his farm, build the fences to contain those cows, and safely train Doc Lindsey before we die of some horrid injury or disease, etc etc.

                But that and all the other shit I’m forgetting about is for another day.

 

                -Adrian

NEXT ENTRY

 

July 28th Tags: 169th entry

July 28th.

                Goddamn it Mr. Journal.  I’m starting to feel the walls close in on me here.  I’ve got a sinking suspicion luck has gone south on me, and I’m running on skill, and planning, which means I’m fucking royally bent.  If anything, I need a little luck to make it through all this.

                We have more injured. 

                Yesterday we split up into several groups.  Martin and Angela broke off with a labor team and went outside the wall back to the salon road to remove the woodstoves that we found, and to cut open that gun safe to get inside.  While they were out and about frolicking and whatnot. The braintrust of myself, Hector, Mike, Patty and Abby made the plan to hit the municipal station to take down the repeater tower so it could be relocated to MGR.  While we were doing that…  Another small group of relatively handy people, consisting mostly of Blake, worked with Mallory and got her salon installed in the administration building near Hall A and the admissions office.

                That was our “day off.”

                You believe that shit?  Unreal how much crap goes into the fucking life we live now.  Otis sits around and does fuck all each and every day, and I swear even he looks tired of this shit.  Speaking of Otis, he’s well, and we’ve seen a smattering of cats and kittens running about on the fringes of campus lately.  There’s been some talk of taking some in as pets, but we need to make sure we are not overrun by cats.  Haven’t heard any dogs lately either, other than when we are downtown.

                Mallory’s salon is fully installed in the office area right next to the old Nurse’s station which is where Doc Lindsey has set up her business.  I’d always secretly envisioned Lisa setting up a medical treatment area there, but I’ll take what I can get.  We still need to figure out a plan to go back to Westfield to hit the clinic Mike and Lisa had set up to get all that gear back here.  It’s either that, or we hike up our skirts and clear the clinic here and get it ready for regular use for x-rays and that shit.  Might need to do both. 

                Crossing T’s and dotting I’s and all.

                Martin, Angela and the remainder of their team removed not three but four woodstoves out of the homes on that road, which is one more than we saw on our first pass through.  All of them came out relatively easily.  The folks also managed to remove all the brick flooring and insulation for the walls, as well as the vent pipes and all that shit.  We’ve got to sort out where they’re going and who is going to install them, but I think we’ll figure it out.  It’s nice to have extra resources.  It’s weird.  It’s like… having one less thing to worry about.

                That’s a strange fucking concept. 

                Martin was able to get the safe open with minimal torch use.  I’m starting to think he’s used his torch for mildly illegal activities in the past.  He knew just how to access the safe in a hurry according to Angela.  I am not complaining, let me be clear about this.  Having a safecracker nearby seems like an asset.  Inside the safe I guess they found three antique shotguns, two handguns, both Glocks, a handful of clips for the Glocks, a few boxes of shotgun shells, and a couple hundred rounds of ammo for the pistols.  Not what I’d hoped for, but still a nice present to unwrap in July.

                The brain trust came up with an actionable plan to remove the repeater tower from the municipal complex to be executed today, which was exactly what happened.  I won’t lay out the plan.  It’s too much fucking writing and I’m tired.  I will however, go over what happened.  Besides, none of our goddamn plans survive first contact anyway. There’s always some unknown variable.  I chalk that up to that little bitch Fairy.

                Because we knew we were going to be down there doing labor for sometime exposed, we had to bring a minimum of two groups of people.  We wanted one group to focus on removing the tower, and the other group to set up a perimeter, and to provide security for the first team.  Martin and Blake were our team leaders for the tower, which is noteworthy because this marked the first time Blake has left campus since little Adrian was born.  They borrowed Dwayne, Hector, Chad and Alex for muscle.

                Patty, Abby, Angela, Mike, Myself, and Chris provided the perimeter security force.  We weren’t sure how large the tower was precisely, so we brought the semi truck down as well as both humvees and the HRT to clear the road as we went.  The road down to the station was lightly littered with a few random walkers, but when we made the turn onto the road the municipal complex was on, we knew something was up.  There were at least six or seven undead clustered near the old ambulance that was parked out front, and when we pulled in the parking lot to the rear, we encountered another dozen undead, milling about, evidently waiting for us.

                I smashed through the bulk of them in the HRT at the lead, and parked in a blocking position around the back of the building so we couldn’t be easily overrun like the time Charles busted his arm.  Man that brings back memories.  Ha.  Charles forgetting he had a fucking handgun and deciding he was gonna Jimmy SupaFly Snooka the entire crowd to undead to death.  Gotta admire brute force ignorance.

                Mike and Hector parked the humvees surrounding the building, and we drove the semi straight to the back where we could load the tower once it was down.  The repeater tower here in town is fairly small.  Now that we’ve gotten it down, it’s maybe thirty feet tall.  Really thin too.  It was mounted on the roof of the station, and once we had exited the vehicles, and dealt with the threat posed by the undead in the parking lot, the second team dismounted, threw some ladders on the side of the building, and headed up to the roof.

                While it was quiet, Abby and I cleared the inside of the building again, and noticed immediately it had been ransacked.  Well, the fire station side had been hit, but the police station side was still fine.  For whatever reason the keycard still worked, which means it’s getting power from somewhere, but despite our best efforts, we couldn’t tell where the juice was coming from.  Battery maybe?

                We grabbed some extra shit we’d left behind before, but the majority of it was not worth mentioning.  Notepads.  Legal books.  Blah.

                Things got weird and went towards the drain when we left the building.  On our exit Martin and Blake had the tower unattached from its moorings on the roof.  From what I’ve gathered, there were four bolts per leg of the tower, and four legs, and once undone the tower was just sitting on the blocks and connected to the building shearly by the wiring/cabling that ran into the station.

                Not one second after we were clear of the door, a gust of wind picked up, and tossed the tower to the side, toppling it right over the side of the building, and right onto poor fucking Chris.  The tower was a heavy steel structure, and had to have weighed a minimum of 500 pounds.  He dodged fairly effectively, but went the wrong way.  His left arm was clipped somehow as the tower came down, and it snapped like a fucking twig.  He went down in a screaming mess as the tower rolled over him, and pinned him to the grass.  Luckily he wasn’t crushed in the process.

                Abby and I ran to render aid as everyone sorta took it all in.  When we checked him to make sure he wasn’t being crushed, we yanked his ass out from under the tipped over tower, and dragged him to the HRT, screaming the whole time.  Abby and I popped the back door open, and that’s when we heard gunfire start popping off from the front of the station.  Now I knew every single person on the perimeter had either ARs or M4s, and the initial gunshot I heard was NOT a 5.56 rifle.  It was throaty, and fucking clearly something heavy like a heavy hunting rifle. 

                It was two seconds tops before the relative silence was ripped apart by our side.  Mike and Patty were on the other side of the building, and they opened the fuck up on something.  After a few seconds of Abby and I trying to calm Chris down, Mike came over the comms and said we were taking fire from a vehicle that had pulled up at the end of the street.  Immediately Abby and I told Chris to deal with his arm for a minute, and we beat feet to the corner of the building.

                Maybe a hundred and fifty yards down the street at the end away from Main there were two station wagons.  They were clearly Mercedes which struck me as odd initially, but now that I think about it, it makes a lot of sense.  Some Mercedes are diesel.  I bet those were.

                Anyway, leaning over the hood of both vehicles were two shooters, and they were slowly firing at the humvee Mike and Patty were taking cover behind.  Abby and I didn’t even say a word, we just dropped into firing positions, and starting laying down suppressing fire into the cars.  My first shots sailed low and blew out the tire of one wagon, but Abby’s were spot the fuck on.  I watched the shooter on the wagon on the left go over backwards as one of her shots hit him in the head or chest.  As soon as that asshole went down the remainder of our people switched to the other wagon, and with all that incoming fire the other shooter got into the vehicle, and made it out pronto.  Both wagons drove away.

                We didn’t pursue.  No fucking clue who that was yet.  We checked the body in the road when we left after, and it was a Caucasian male, maybe 30 or 35, scraggly, fairly thin.  He had a .45-70 lever action rifle, and about thirty rounds to go with it.  He had no body armor, and was dressed in fatigue pants, and a t-shirt.  We also found a fresh pool of blood near where the other car was parked, and that told me we’d hit the other prick too.  Go us.

                Fire superiority motherfucker.  Can’t dodge every fucking raindrop.

                We are… cutting it close with this shit.  I have no idea who those people were, and if we are now dealing with hostile, mobile competition in town, then we’ve got to change tactics.  I know I bitched about me being unlucky earlier, but in reality, we were wearing four leaf clovers big time to not catch lead in that firefight.  How we didn’t get a dead body befuddles me.

                Chris had a bad break.  Both bones in his forearm were snapped, and we put a split on it, and got a painkiller into him until we got back to campus.  Of course he had to wait while the first crew got the tower down from its half upside down location, and loaded into the semi.  We also pulled the wiring, as well as the electronics inside the station that apparently boost the signal.  I didn’t see what was happening, as we were extra vigilant for motion after the attack.

                Hector said he could get it all hooked up at MGR within a day or two, and once we were sure we had everything, we rolled the hell out.

                Doc Lindsey took good care of our goofy broken armed friend literally on arrival.  We were surprised to see that while we were away, Ollie and his people had managed to get the gate up and installed.  It was refreshing to see that there was no way for anything on the road to get across the bridge now.  Ollie says he has an idea for additional structures, but he needs time to think it over.

                So Chris is in a cast now, and will be medicated for some time.  Lindsey says the break was bad, and he’ll be in a lot of pain, specially while it’s warm and humid out.  Dunno if she’s full of shit or not, but it seems like he’ll live, and that’s good.  He’s a good kid.

                So where do we go from here?  We compared notes agaun tonight and there’s still no sign of anyone who has a guilty story as far as the Westfield fire is concerned.  It blows.  We’re a dead person heavy now, with no sign of the arsonist, or the potential murderer, assuming that Emily was killed and didn’t legitimately hang herself.

                Frustrating.

                After today’s downtown bullshit, we are not moving an inch tomorrow. Our wall is being worked on, and we are going to formulate a good plan to install the repeater on MGR so we can get that observation tower operational.  I REALLY want eyes in the sky now that there are clearly some hostiles kicking about.

                After that… well, we’ll have to see.

 

                -Adrian

NEXT ENTRY

July 26th Tags: 168th entry

 

July 26th.

                I feel like today was a clusterfuck.  A grade A clusterfuck.

                I don’t remember jinxing myself.  I felt like I was pretty clear in my choice of words yesterday, and I clearly didn’t say anything that would’ve led to a jinx.  I feel as if today, it was just shit luck, or the evil powers that be are just… fucking out to get me.  Which in and of itself, is probably bad fucking luck on my part.

                Our run to get Mallory’s shit went reasonably well, but clearly something had happened on that street.  I don’t know exactly when it happened, but whatever it was generated a fairly large amount of dead bodies trapped inside one of the houses, and we nearly lost control of the situation.  I chalk this up to us bringing new folks that don’t quite follow the rules of how things are done just yet.

                The road that we cleared today was perhaps five miles long, and connected Route 18 to another country road that leads to… the country.  Along the roughly two mile length there were nine houses.  Six on the left side of the road, three on the right.  Four of these homes were spread out and largely isolated from the others, but the remaining five were clustered on the end of the road near Route 18. 

                To give us some practice with the new people, we started clearing the houses that were solitary.  To give everyone a chance to learn, we inserted the new folks into a stack with Abby and I, centered and without a firearm (we let them have a melee weapon though), and simply let them observe us as we went room to room.

                The four houses that were solitary were simple and clean.  On the fourth house, we rotated Angela into the group, and let them clear it without Abby and I.  We did this because after looking inside the house, it was obviously empty.  It was one of those open concept homes and through the windows, we were almost 100% sure the place was safe.  We were right.

                The haul out of these homes was amazing.  Simply amazing.  We found three moveable wood stoves that are almost exactly what we need for the remaining dorms and structures on campus.  We didn’t move them today, we just left them behind for the moment.  We also found a fairly substantial amount of consumables and canned foods.  There was a gun safe in one of the homes as well, but it had a combination lock, and that means we need Martin and his cutting torch to get inside.  Hopefully we can get him on it fast.

                We also found a few hunting rifles, some shotguns, a couple of handguns, and a suitably normal amount of ammunition to match all those weapons.  Gotta love folks who live in the country.

                That’s sort of when things went to shit on us.

                We did a full clear on the first of the last five homes because we saw a zombie inside.  Talk about raised hackles.  Abby, Myself, Chris, and Renee went in and we had Chris and Renee with melee weapons again.  Abby was on point, and around back we had Angela make some noise to draw the zombie(s) away from the door.

                Abby pried the door with a halligan, and we breached.  Through the living room, then the dining room, and at the back kitchen window above the sink, we saw the walking dead body of a teenage girl.  She was pretty when she alive.  The kind of girl that guys like me would’ve wanted to try and say hi to.  The kind of girl that you wanted to ask to go swimming with you on a hot summer day like today.  If only to see what kind of swimsuit she was going to wear.

                Abby put an AR15 round through her skull, and she smashed her face off the sink before hitting the floor.  What a shame.  I wonder how many kids on this road had a crush on her.

                That was easy.  With four houses left at that point the next home was the house with the hair salon in it.  It was a home run business in an addition on the side of a fairly large cape.  The way they had it built the cape was on the left, a garage in the middle, and the addition for the salon on the right side.  Neoplitan-esque I guess.

                We cleared the salon quickly, seeing as how it was a single room, and with that done and the work needed to remove the sinks and chairs at hand, Mallory and I broke off, and Abby took the rest of the folks over to the next home.

                Now… I can’t fault Abby on this.  I can’t fault Angela either.  From what I’ve pieced together Abby told them to wait while everyone took a minute to go around the next home and check inside the windows.  Abby and Angela were around the back of the home when either Dwayne, Renee, or Chris forgot to wait, or heard something they thought was a go ahead, and the door was opened.  Now because we’d been making noise at the time, the undead that happened to be inside were right near that door, and when they opened the sumbitch, they all came rushing out.

                After the fact we saw eleven undead on the lawn.  I’m sure the noobs were positively shitting in their pants when they started to pour out.  Of course at the time only Dwayne had a handgun on him, as Abby had just asked them to put their guns aside for the upcoming breach, so all the others had were halligans, axes, and bats.

                Dwayne opened up, but he doesn’t have much in the way of trigger time, and thus wasted almost all of his ammunition.  I only saw three of the zombies dead by gunshot wound near the doorway, and I’m pretty sure those were his kills.  Danny Jr. was still on the roof of the HRT supplying cover and security with his .22, and he had to wait to fire because of the three asshats running straight in his direction.  He didn’t have enough of a clear line of sight to fire safely.

                I guess Chris and Renee backpedaled to get the fuck away and towards the HRT to get their guns again, screaming all the way.  Abby and Angela then hear the screaming and Dwayne’s shots, and come running around the house, running right into the three noobs hightailing it away from the handful of the dead they’d just set free.

                Due to crossfire concerns, the two women had to run to flank the dead before they could open fire.  Neither Mallory or I heard the handgun shots inside the salon, and when we heard the distinctive crack of the AR firing, we both dropped our tools and gathered our weapons to join whatever it was that was going on outside.

                I went out first, and not a half second after I stuck my head outside the damn salon exit, I was buzzed by a round zipping maybe ten inches from my head.  I hit the deck hard, screaming for Mallory to stay inside.

                I mean in retrospect I should’ve realized we would be walking out directly into the line of fire from the house next door.  Angela and Abby were firing across that yard, and any misses or through and throughs were headed directly at the house we were in.  Fuck me, right?

                I crawled back inside the salon and the two of us took cover behind the most solid thing we could find, which happened to be a bank of those old school hair drying seats.  You know the ones with the big clear plastic bowl that sits on top of your head?  We yanked it out from the wall and huddled behind it until the firing stopped.

                And man when it let up… I let loose.  I don’t think I’ve ever sworn that much.  I absolutely ripped skulls off and made fresh assholes.  I wanted to know how the fuck, what the fuck, who the fuck, and who I had to assfuck dry to make that never happen again.  I scared the living shit out of those people, especially the new folks.  I don’t think they’ve ever seen me mad, and man Mr. Journal... I haven’t been that mad in sometime.

                Everyone apologized for their part in the debacle, and after fifteen minutes of being pissed and scared shitless, I went back to the salon with a frightened Mallory, and Abby and Angela went back to clearing the what, three houses left?

                Fuck.  We could’ve had a total party wipe there.  Dwayne, Renee and Chris could’ve easily died at the door, and I was less than a foot from taking an accidental 5.56 round to the fucking gourd.  Fuck.  Fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

                Amateur hour bullshit right there.  Abby talked to me on the ride home in the HRT and took the blame for everything.  I let her have it.  The blame that is.  If she thinks what happened today was her mistake I’m fine with that.  Next time, she will NOT ALLOW something like this to happen.  It may be unfair of me to make her eat the guilt for almost letting us get killed, but that kind of learning experience is far more valuable to us than keeping her feelings slightly more intact.  Besides, it’s not like she’d listen to me telling her that, “it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

                She’d still feel responsible one way or the other.  This way, she’ll try harder, and her extra vigilance is an asset to us.

                The rest of the houses on that road were cleared with far less fanfare.  Abby was telling me on the ride home they encountered four more undead amongst those homes, and while a little dicey with the new folks, they did well, and no one was hurt.  Actually that’s not true.  Dwayne wound up getting a massive splinter in his right palm when they breached a door.  I guess they pried it in with a halligan, and a shard of wood was sticking out.  He was walking out of the house and caught it just right, and bam!  The shard was at least three inches in when it broke off.  Renee wound up removing it in the HRT with the first aid shit.  I watched her for a bit, and I am now thinking she needs to spend more time with Doc Lindsey.  She’s got a knack for first aid and I think she might enjoy it.

                The other houses had another stove we could remove, as well as a few more rifles, shotguns, and handguns.  Fortunately, one of the gun safes was wide fucking open for us, so that saves Martin a smidge of work at a later date.  We also yanked out a few empty drums in a backyard we can clean and retask for fuel storage, and there was a fair amount of canned food and paper supplies, etc.  One thing that was kind of neat we found was a fisherman’s wet dream.  One of the homes had a guy who was an avid fisherman, and he had multiple rods, reels, flies, etc etc.  Just a ton of good fishing shit for us to put to good use on Auburn Lake.

                So despite our near death bullshit, it was a hugely successful day.  Training for a few new folks went very well, we found several wood stoves, we got some food, toilet paper, guns, ammunition, and most importantly for me personally, we got Mallory two salon chairs, and two salon sinks. 

                We didn’t make it back to campus until about seven at night, so we rolled in right as dinner was being wrapped up.  It’s sort of weird now because we’re breaking dinner service up into multiple places.  For the longest time we were all eating together, which brought us much closer, but now there’s no place to do it other than the cafeteria, and logistically, that doesn’t make much sense.  It isn’t powered so cooking there is pretty much not possible, and that means we’d have to transport the food, and that’s a huge pain in the ass.

                We’ve broken up into groups eating at Hall B with Ollie and Melissa, a second group eating at Hall A, and a third group eating at the Jones Road Farm with Lindsey and little Andrea.  Melissa has organized the dinners into a rotating schedule, so there’s one dinner at 4:30, one at 5:30, and a final late dinner at 7pm, give or take.  It’s working, but it feels weird that we’re all eating at different times in different places.

                We managed to scrape up the last remnants of the 7pm dinner in Hall A, so thankfully, there were no deaths due to starvation today.

                While we were out, the wall crew managed to throw about 75 feet of barricade up.  They also managed an injury free day, which is more than we can boast.  With such a productive day under our collective belts, we have elected to plan a trip to the police station tomorrow while a follow up crew heads back to get those woodstoves, and crack that gun safe so we can get to the innards.

                The day after, if tomorrow goes well and our plan for the police station pans out, we’ll actually go to the damn police station, and get the repeater tower, as well as anything that isn’t nailed down that we think we can make use of.

                Tomorrow we’ve also got to figure out where exactly we can put Mallory’s salon.  She needs plumbing for the sinks, and we really don’t have the patience or time to run pipes to a room without plumbing.  This will require some serious thought to be done relatively easily.

                Looking at the bright side though, I am pretty sure I have secured my place with Mallory as “most awesomest man she’s ever slept with.”

                It’s not all bad I guess.

 

                -Adrian

               

 

 

 

 

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