Living With the Dead: The Hungry Land (19 page)

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

A Growing Boom

Posted by Josh Guess

I decided to start walking again this morning. I'm not quite up to running yet, but it feels good to get out of the house for a bit with my dogs and talk to people. Actually, taking the dogs with me is not only good exercise for them, but also a good conversation starter while I'm wandering the compound. They're just too damn cute for people to ignore. I've done more standing than walking today while folks give Riley and Bigby affectionate scratches behind the ears.
It's especially nice to know that there are people to do the grunt work of running the compound so I don't have to feel guilty about taking an hour for myself. I don't mean that to sound disparaging or petty. Each person that works with me to manage the different aspects of the compound's daily operations is a godsend. Spreading the work out among seven to ten of us (the number varies from day to day as Becky and a few others take an interest in learning the ins and outs of my job) means that every part of the job can be looked at by fresh eyes and in much greater detail. Also, it allows each of us to have the flexibility to take days away if needed without damaging productivity.
I might be the one who is supposed to coordinate the work of all the others, but the truth is that any of them can sub for me in a pinch. That was the case this morning. Becky is taking a shot at doing my job for a few hours under the careful eye of the rest of my co-workers.
The walk itself was very informative. One thing that surprised me as I was dragged around by my overly energetic canines was how many pregnant women we have. A large number of pregnant women isn't all that surprising in and of itself. After all, history is a pretty good teacher of how population booms happen. Look at Africa and the AIDS epidemic there (I know this is a bad comparison, because babies are pretty much on the other side of the spectrum from AIDS in terms of good versus bad, but bear with me). In Africa and some other places, populations continued to grow even after the number of people infected with HIV reached epidemic proportions. That trend continued even when enough people were educated about how the disease as transferred.
Part of that was lack of protection, of course. Married couples who were both infected and couldn't afford condoms...well, it makes sense, right? Another part of it is simple human nature: adversity and lack of distraction lead to making your own fun.
Of course, the situation here isn't perfectly comparable. We have access to contraceptives (thankfully those aren't all that hard to find. The apocalypse seems to have taken the fear out of sex for a lot of people) and the knowledge that treating STD's and pregnancy-related medical problems have become difficult and, in some cases, impossible. Most of our population has been pretty responsible with this, females tracking their cycles to make sure they don't have sex when they're most fertile. People using condoms when possible. Birth control pills when available.
Today, though, I saw at least twenty pregnant women in various stages. Some had barely noticeable bumps, a few others looked on the verge of giving birth while they stood there petting my grinning dogs. Again, I'm not shocked that women are pregnant. After all, if adversity makes people want to affirm life through sex, then the people here should be going at it like teenage bunnies at prom. Plus, most people have a good chunk of free time if not a proportional amount of privacy. That's a recipe for baby-makin' if I ever saw one.
No, I'm just surprised (and a little disappointed in myself) for not noticing earlier. This isn't the first time I've felt disconnected from the compound, which was why I started jogging all those months ago in the first place. I wanted to get out on a daily basis and meet people, see the people behind all the numbers I had to juggle in my official capacity. When you're working to keep a community of human beings running smoothly while living under the threat of constant zombie attack, it's vital to remember that they 
are 
human beings. Not just parts of an equation.
It also seems pretty helpful for me and my co-workers to know about pregnancies so we can plan accordingly. With the undead wandering outside the walls and laying in wait for us when we go hunting or scouting, it's more important than ever to make sure that our community can and will grow over time. As we strengthen and stabilize our food supplies, that may mean taking on additional adult survivors. But children are the future (wow, that sounds lame, doesn't it?) for us and we're going to do whatever it takes to make sure those kids are safe, fed, and have access to every resource they might need to survive in this new world.
Yeah, a lot of pregnant women means more mouths to feed down the road. But that's good! Not only is it a motivator for us to work harder and bring in more food, but we WANT babies around here. We want to start the next generation. A man who goes outside the walls to hunt or fish or even scout might take extra risk if he's a bachelor. Less so if he's married. A man with a small child at home will do everything in his power to provide for that child, and also to make sure he comes home if he's any kind of man at all.
The zombies give us reason to fight. Children, the proof of life and love made of our own substance, give us reason to live.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Gap

Posted by Josh Guess

You remember a few weeks ago when my front left tooth was hurting? Like, so bad that I wanted to rip the damn thing out? You probably remember that Evans and Becky managed to fix it, if roughly. Well, last night it started hurting again way worse than before.
This morning it was so bad that Evans just went ahead and pulled it. He's a dab hand with tiny stitches and knows how to keep a wound from getting infected, so I'm not too worried about that part. Nor am I in pain anymore since he used the most powerful numbing agent he would find. It is pretty strange though, looking in the mirror and seeing a spot where that tooth was.
I know on one hand that it had to be done. There wasn't much chance of Evans or Becky being able to repair the problem since the first go round apparently didn't work. On the other hand, I see my face differently now. There's a piece of me missing that I probably won't get back.
I know there's little chance that we'll manage to find a dentist who survived. Frankly we've gotten lucky to have the medical personnel that we do. I see the gap between my teeth and remember that just a little more than a year ago, this problem would have been simple to resolve. An hour or two of work, and no more gap.
It's the idea that this is such a permanent change that  bugs me. Yeah, I've gotten a good collection of scars since the zombies spread across the planet like wildfire in summer, but scars are something most of us had to deal with before The Fall. Granted, some are worse than others, but scars don't necessarily 
lessen 
you. They don't take away. Scars simply mark the consequences of a bad decision, a sloppy mistake, a valiant deed.
I can't help but feel a sense of loss, which is completely stupid. It's a tooth. One tiny bit that won't really make that much of a difference in my life. Maybe part of why it bothers me so much is because I know that in the world that was, I could have had a replacement there even if my dentist couldn't have saved the tooth. An implant or a bridge. Something to give me the illusion that I was whole.
I guess I won't be getting that. I'll have to be careful how I eat. I probably won't smile with my mouth open as much. I don't know if anyone but me thinks this is worth writing a post about. I don't even know if I think it is.
But I wonder: if it were a finger or a hand, wouldn't that be worth it? What makes it so damn important to me? It's a piece of my body I can't get back, though admittedly not one that will affect my survival ability like a finger or hand would. It's just bothering me. I wanted to vent. Sometimes I do that.

Friday, May 27, 2011

The Waves

Posted by Josh Guess

I'm not going to write much today. I can't. I'm so damn tired that words don't even come close to being able to express it. As one of the bowmen that take to the wall when a sizable attack comes, I didn't get much sleep. We were hit by about four hundred zombies overnight, and while the trenches did a great job holding them back, they soon filled with the corpses of slain undead.
Given recent events, I'm feeling a bit paranoid. The smarties have driven their zombie armies at us before in attempts to test our defenses, and this feels like that. Why else would so many undead come at us for so long right at where we are strongest? Maybe the smarties are trying not only to test us, but to reduce competition for their limited food supply...
It's a thought to make your skin crawl. Though I know I won't be able to help it, I'm trying not to think about it. Right now all I want is a hot shower (which I can't get), a warm meal (which I won't get), and about twenty hours of sleep (which so laughable it makes me want to cry).
Damn zombies just kept on coming, wave after wave. They even gave us breaks, long enough that a few times we thought they'd finished.
Ugh. I can't write. My brain is numb with exhaustion, and that's not half of what my body is going through. Five hours of archery is too much for anyone. My fingers are bleeding.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

A Bounty of Calm

Posted by Josh Guess

In a bit of good news, our hunters and scouts brought in a truly massive haul of game this morning. They had to go pretty far north along the river, but what they brought in today will feed a lot of people. This was the first overnight trip they've taken, and the lack of zombies in the area they staked out was either a stroke of luck or a frightening sign. I haven't decided which. 

Our other endeavors food-wise seem to be holding up. Our fishermen are doing well in the creeks and rivers, and while egg collection out on the farms is difficult, Aaron had the idea to set the kids to it. Some of the younger kids have made a game of finding all the places the chickens like to hide them. I watched for a few minutes on my round out to the farm this morning. 

Children laughing and playing together, running around with not a care in the world. It was wonderful to hear their voices trill with happiness as they dug in piles of hay and twigs. When one of the sentries walking the trenches that mark the boundaries of the farm gave warning that a zombie had been spotted, those kids immediately stopped what they were doing and moved into defensive positions. No whining, no hesitation. It was just one zombie, but I was proud of them even more for that. They didn't brush off the threat because it was minimal. 

It's a good sign for the future, knowing that the young ones are learning the right habits and reactions early on. 

I'm still pretty exhausted from the marathon archery session the other night, but I'm feeling better. We ran through a huge number of arrows, and it's going to take a while to make enough to replace all the ones that were lost or broken. Aaron has kids helping with that as well. He's taking their education very seriously. 

Part of why I'm feeling more upbeat despite my still-aching muscles is because of the incredible resilience of the kids. Things suck, sure, but I just can't stay down when I see the bright defiance in their eyes. They don't have a sense of doom about the world we live in. They don't see the odds against us. For them, there isn't a question of failing. We adults see how difficult the road ahead will be and find ourselves grim with the thought of facing those trials. 

The kids just see it as a challenge to be faced. And you know? It's sort of an infectious attitude. I can't help but think about how far we've come and all we've survived and feel that maybe things aren't as bad as they could be. 

I know it doesn't make everything suddenly perfect and lovely here at the compound, but I think everyone could benefit from trying to take a step back from how angry and scared they are. Try watching some children toss a baseball. It might give you some perspective. 

Monday, May 30, 2011

Lucky

Posted by Josh Guess

This has been an eventful few days for me. I didn't post yesterday as is my habit, but believe me when I say that even if I had wanted to, there was little to no chance that I could have.
After I posted Saturday, I decided to spend a little time with Les. He's someone I don't think I've ever talked about, but is vitally important to the compound. He's this little short guy, skinny as a rail but stronger than he looks. Has this bushy mustache and thick brown hair that always looks nicely taken care of. Les is the guy who works on our cars and other vehicles on a full-time basis. He's the one who makes sure they are all in good working order. Given how few of them are used on a daily basis, he manages a maintenance schedule that would have been unreal in the old world.
I know a little bit about cars, but nowhere near what I would like to. I understand the basic functions of the systems and some specifics on how they work, but Les lets me sit in and watch sometimes to learn more. Some days, like Saturday, he lets me help.
Which was how, late Saturday evening, I was almost electrocuted and set on fire.
There's no thrilling tale of adventure here. Les was trying to repair a wiring harness inside one of our flex-fuel trucks and he asked me to help since I was already there and eager. I did, spending a few minutes holding the flashlight, then tracing wires. I helped make sure all the connections were secure. When he finally got finished, I was the one leaning over the engine compartment as Les tried to turn it over. my hands were resting on the edge right next to the battery. So, when one of the big wire clusters right next to me burst into flaming sparks just as the battery started spitting out sparks of its own, you can understand why I was a little freaked out. Six or seven more inches and I would have been seriously hurt. My leg is still on the bad side of healing, making my morning walks hellish at the least. I don't need any more injuries.
On top of that--this part is gross and personal, you might want to skip ahead. I'll wait.
OK, if you're reading this then you don't mind the potentially gross functions of the human body. Less than four hours after I was almost shocked and burned, I woke up around midnight with horrible stomach cramps. I scampered to the bathroom thinking I was about to have an episode of diarrhea, but I didn't. At least, not exactly. It was like I felt this immense pressure inside my guts, but could barely get anything out. I've taken everything I can think of, but almost a day and a half later I'm still getting these horrible cramps every ten to forty minutes. I still run, thinking I'm about to explode. Then virtually nothing.
On the one hand it sucks not being able to concentrate on any one thing for very long. Having to work with the knowledge that I will certainly have to run to the bathroom at least once in any given hour. On the other it's good that I'm not actually passing liquids, because even something as simple as diarrhea can be dangerous as hell in our current conditions. Your mom probably told you to drink plenty of water when you're stricken with it, right? Well, we're not short on good old h2o right now thanks to all the recent rains, but water safe to drink? We've got to boil it after we filter it. Most houses are set up with a basic system for filtration and retention, but the stock of drinkable water any of us keeps on hand isn't really all that large. We tend to do it in batches.
Of course in the event that someone does get sick, others will help by offering their water. It isn't much of a problem for healthy people to do the extra work to make up the difference, but that's why we're so lucky to live in a place like the compound. If it happened to someone who was living out alone or in the wild, they'd be forced to drink unboiled and unfiltered water. That's a recipe for getting even sicker, more dehydrated, and eventually very dead.
This weekend hasn't been a good one for me, but I recognize how lucky I am. I live somewhere wonderful, where people take care of each other. Where we have access to resources. The zombie plague has taken much from us, and these last few days have shown me just how subtle some of those changes have been. I'm really hoping to feel better soon. I hate feeling like a burden.