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February 9th Tags: 75th entry

February 9th.

                Patty’s been weirder since Tony died.  I think she was really attached to him.  Abby thinks it was because he was like a remnant of Randy and Charles.  Sort of the last tie to the events at STIG, or a crutch keeping her up over Charles and Randy’s death.  I don’t know about that, but Patty’s definitely pretty broken up.  Mind you Mr. Journal that she was already coping with the death of her husband and son.  She’s definitely gone quiet.  I catch her every so often just sitting there staring out a window, kneading her hands together.  Poor woman.  She’s so strong though.  Doesn’t want anyone to think she can’t function.  She doesn’t want to be a burden on anyone.

                She doesn’t know what happened at STIG.  She does know that she didn’t see anyone sneaking around near the place when it blew.  She and Tony were on watch in a corner office where we found her that night.  She said she saw nothing.  That either means they snuck in from a totally different angle to hit the plant, or it was some kind of inside job.  Doesn’t change anything. 

                Abby’s taking it all in stride.  At least, that’s what she thinks she’s fooling us into thinking.  I can tell she’s under tremendous pressure.  She doesn’t want to let us down, and she wants to show her mom that everything will be okay.  I wish I could tell everyone things will be okay, but the fact of the matter is, I don’t know if it will be.

                Yesterday we had some more snow, and as long as it snows, Westfield will struggle to get here for an attack.   That’s a relief.  The shitty part about yesterday was the three zombies we had to kill.  Our nail boards have become useful for more than flattening tires.  All three zombies got their feet stuck on the plywood sheets covered in nails.  Luckily it was all on my watch in Hall A in the morning, and I took my long sword out and had me some beheading action.  After that I had me some stacking zombie bodies into the four wheeler action.  And after that I had me some stacking more bodies on my funeral pyre action.

                Fuck this shit, right?

                We got through yesterday without firing any guns, which was great.  I can’t help but think any kind of gunfire will lead more and more up here.  I wonder how many undead were drawn to the STIG building instead of up here while I was clearing houses out back in December?  I’m betting they were making a lot more noise than me. Poor fucking people.

                Gilbert slept all day yesterday and took over for the evening for me.  Patty has been resting in Hall E steadily going crazy.  She wants to help with the watches but she can’t breathe for shit with the busted side.  She says it’s “much better now” but I don’t believe her.

                I made us our first “meal” since the majority of the Williams family left for STIG.  We’d been eating out of cans since then.  I warmed us up some cans of mixed veggies, and I got three cans of Dinty Moore warmed up as well.  I popped open a can of the brown bread I like for added variety.  Veggies and stew.  Not much, but it was hearty and calorie filled, which is really important.  Patty struggled to get it down, but she fought her way through it.

                Rest of the evening I just hung with Patty and we watched Abby sleep on the couch.  She’s such a fighter too.  Good female genes in that family.  They don’t quit.  Abby took watch over for Gilbert sometime in the middle of night, and this morning she said she had to kill a zombie at about four am.  I guess she grabbed a bat and went out to the spike boards.  She even dragged the body out of the road.  How ballsy is that?  Middle of the night in the dark she goes out all alone with a baseball bat and clubs a fucking zombie to death like a baby seal?  Five bucks says she shits a brick when we start getting spiders around here again.

                This morning we had a small breakfast together and Patty mentioned that if we could get back to STIG there would probably be some supplies left over there.  She thought there was a rifle in the room she had been trapped in as well as a few boxes of ammo.  I definitely want to go back to check it out, but after seeing what we went through to get Patty out, I think it’s far too risky.  It is however in the “shit to think about” file.

                More shitty dreams the past couple days.  I’ve gotten better sleep when I have been sleeping, but the dreams are pretty horrible.  Both of the two nights the dreams have been about my friend Steve. Today I turned on a radio and left it on the channel he said in his note.  I mean, I know he’s dead, but I feel obligated to do it with the dreams lately.  It sucks.  I sat there hoping it’d crackle to life with his voice but you and I know differently Mr. Journal.  Like a jackass he went out and probably stole a BMW off a dealership lot and then proceeded to wrap it around a fucking guard rail somewhere.  Steve was the kind of asshole that didn’t clean off his car during snow storms.  He’d hit the wiper once or twice then bomb away doing 20 over the speed limit.   Knowing him he never made it to a dealership at all.  No work ethic on that guy.

                I’m rambling again.  Gilbert and I established our Westfield plan.  Well, phase 1 of it at least.  Every good op needs recon.  Wars are fought on real time intelligence and the stomachs of foot soldiers, and sadly, those are both my problem.  It’s too bad Tony didn’t make it.  Tomorrow morning at dawn I am taking the Tundra and a snow machine and going to Westfield.  I’ll drive as far as I can and then move in slowly on the machine or on foot.

                My aim is to find out two things.  First, how many undead are there in Westfield?  Is it overrun with them, and where are they?  And secondly, do the Westfield pricks move in predictable patterns?

                Gilbert and I have a guerilla warfare plan in mind.  We have established that we can’t just barge in with a direct assault on the school.  We’re vastly outnumbered, and without explosives we can’t take them out in one fell swoop.  Some of our first ideas were an alpha strike on the school using fuel to start fires, but that quickly got dismissed for several reasons. 

                Gilbert is (was) a Green Beret.  If you know anything about those guys, then you know that they specifically train to go into foreign lands, and build support with the locals to achieve a mission.  Gilbert and I both agree that this is a good course of action.  What makes this difficult is the fact that all the locals are inside a single building.  It’s not like we can hit an outlying village and bribe them with tobacco or something like a normal Green Beret mission.  We need to establish their patterns of movement, and intercept them hopefully peacefully.  We’re thinking either a “oh dear, I’m hurt, please help us” ambush, or a spiked board and guns full on ambush.  We’ve got handcuffs to take hostages if we need to, but ideally I’d like to do this as peacefully as possible.  We can’t give those people any reason to think we’re the villain.  I’d bet a can of peaches Sean has gone out of his way to throw us under the bus as the most evil thing since Osama Bin Laden and Steely Dan.

                Bottom line is we’ll figure that out when I get back tomorrow night.  Once I see plowed roads I’ll know where they’re moving.  (assuming of course they’re plowing roads, and moving about)  I can’t imagine a group of their size hasn’t been moving around regularly.  Patty said the high school group was very active in the city gathering resources and whatnot, so it stands to reason they still are. 

                I’m rolling out with the M15 and the Savage.  I’ll also bring the two pistols, and enough ammo, food and general supplies should I get cut off.  Earlier tonight I also found some snowshoes in the gymnasium, which will come in handy should something happen to either the truck or the snowmobile.  I hate to think about hoofing it the 30 miles back here or however far it is, but the reality is, that might happen.  Hopefully I’m sneaky enough to get this done and do it right.

                After a few days of observation, we’ll formulate a solid plan of attack. Gilbert assures me he can sell people who are on the fence about Sean with little to no problem.  He is a pretty charismatic bastard, I’ll give him that.  The trick is to get enough info on the situation there and hopefully find a way to either speak to, or capture folks.  Worst case scenario we can actively engage in guerilla warfare and do an active denial of resources mission.  Blow their fucking gas stations up.  All’s fair in love and war cocksuckers.

                Now if I get unbelievably lucky….  I’ll see Sean, and I’ll take one shot with the Savage and hopefully end all this bullshit before it gets any worse.  According to what Brian said, he’s the HMFIC over there.  One shot, one kill.  Man that’d be ideal.  Then I could go back to just worrying about the armada of undead that’s slowly creeping down the road to my home. 

                If all goes well I’ll put an entry in tomorrow night when I get back.  If it doesn’t go well..  well I might not put an entry in at all.  Ever again that is.

 

                Good times.

 

                I’m kinda glad Sean tried to play soldier with me.  I’m good at this game. 

 

                -Adrian

 

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