The first major section of the new wall, the permanent one, is almost done. It covers the main gait, and has already proven to be quite effective against a moderate sized group of zombies. Not perfect, of course, because they can find their way around the edges of it (since it's not complete, but it works as intended.
We also got a great field test of the idea that my brother and I came up with yesterday. We were worried that the zombies were getting too smart for it to work, but we seriously overestimated them. Dave and I went out early today to line the empty grass in front of the main gate with stakes. Big ones. Angled away from the compound at about forty degrees, and sharp as tacks. The few individual zombies that were ahead of the pack managed to avoid some of them, but a great many of them were impaled, which made it really easy to pick them off. On a side note, the watchtower is positioned precisely so several sharpshooters can defend the front gate from a long distance. We are thinking of building more.
I wanted to take this quiet time around the compound to talk a little more about some of my fellow survivors. Not to judge their actions or opinions as I have done before, but simply to paint a better picture of some of the people around me, so that those of you out there that are considering a move here can know more about your possible neighbors.
To that end:
Steve. Of Courtney and Steve fame, rescued from southern Illinois by Jess and myself shortly after society fell. Steve is of average height, has medium length blond hair, a pointed chin (much like an elf), big eyes, and a straight nose (also like an elf...hmmm...) Steve is an incredibly smart guy, and has a way of connecting with people, even without words, that amazes me still, after more than a decade of friendship. Let me tell you how he became one of my best friends, and maybe you will understand.
I had moved to Illinois to be closer to my girlfriend. When she and I finally broke up, Steve was a couple of towns away, at my cousin's house. It was a brutal breakup from someone that I was head over heels for at the time, and for whom I had moved two states over for. It was late, and yet he left to come get me, and sat with me on the edge of the parking lot where I was at for almost an hour, letting me literally cry on his shoulder. At a time when I felt broken in ways I had never experienced, his understanding and sense of humor was a rock on which I could stand amid a sea of hurt.
Not legendary stuff, I know, but that's Steve. He is funny, and a HUGE nerd (and proud of the fact), and quietly strong in ways that will shock and amaze you. His empathy is stronger than that of any person I have ever met, and I continually thank god that he was able to survive, and still be the person that I have known and loved like my own brother for so long.
If you come to live here, you will see him out and about the compound. I suggest stopping him and starting a conversation about pretty much anything. You will be pleasantly surprised where it will go, I promise you that.
And he's a damned good person to have at your back in an attack. It's almost scary how quick and efficient he is in a fight, considering that he's the one that taught me Dungeons and Dragons. All it took was necessity to scratch away the soft, geeky covering that held within it a warrior.
I will do someone different tomorrow. Any requests?
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