I refuse to let them weigh me down right now. All of us are ready for full-on attack from them at any time, but I think we have all gotten a little sick of living under the constant threat of living people that want to kill us or control us on top of the threat of zombies. Many of the folks I have talked to here in the compound seem to feel this way--deciding to put it on a back burner of their minds, and worry about it when and if it happens.
There is a lot going on. Naturally, we are installing sections of prefab wall sent back with us from Michigan. As dearly as we would love to have the next shipment of them in, we are holding out on sending a truck of food up north and suggesting to Jack and his people to do the same, while these interlopers are here. I don't know what their game is, but I won't risk our new and fragile alliance with the folks up north.
We are building a few new watchtowers, and several of our better shots (including my wife) are showing some others how to fire long range. We have a few other tricks up our sleeves should anyone decide to come knocking without an invitation, but you will excuse me for not sharing them here. The element of surprise is always understated in its importance, no matter how much credit you give.
My brother has some plans to work on some modifications to the existing power grid, so we can try to network up all of the houses in the compound to the solar arrays and turbines that are being set up as I type this. It won't be enough for air conditioning (which sucks, because it's balls hot right now) but it should be more than adequate for lighting and charging some of our equipment. In an awesome display of goodwill, the folks at Google HQ have been nice enough to have a few of their engineers design some battery arrays for us, and instructions on how to build them. Thankfully there is no shortage of car batteries around, and the design is pretty much scalable to any degree we could want, so we will have some power at night when the old grid finally goes down.
It can't be long now. The folks at the power plant send word that they are very low on combustibles, and without people to harvest wood or other fuel, they will have to leave. I hope they choose to come here.