Roots

We've managed to make it to where Gabby and her group are staying. I didn't want to tell anyone our destination in case any of our enemies had managed to figure out where she was. I didn't want to be intercepted on our way here.

So, we made it. I'm frankly kind of shocked at how organized and ordered everything here is. Everyone has food and shelter, there are people on sentry duty here and there. It's nice to see people outside our group again. We had a hard time getting here between the constant snow and random groups of zombies drifting across our path. One thing that I really miss? Road crews. You never really think about what they did for society until you don't have them anymore. Driving along pretty much any road with five or six inches of snow on it and patches of ice sucks in ways that I can't even describe.

I'm pretty exhausted from the trip. Getting here was frustratingly slow, and now that we've arrived I don't think we'll be going anywhere for a good long while. That is, we'll be staying as long as it's safe for us to do so. You might call me paranoid since I've seen no actual evidence that any of them have come after us at all, but I'm still worried about what would happen if the bastards that took our home from us figure out where we are.

It's not that this town isn't fairly defensible or that we lack people willing to put up a fight if one is brought to us. It's just that right now we're not at full fighting strength and we need time build ourselves up a bit. We have canned and packaged food, but right now no long term solutions for growing our own. All of that was left behind. We've got ammo for our guns and handheld weapons, but the shop we set up back at the compound to cast bullets and make our own shells is lost to us.

Right now, I'm thrilled to be around people, and ecstatic to be in a group that is big enough to ward off smaller threats. I love the safety and sense of community. It's just a fragile thing right now.

I recognize, of course, that almost no community anyone builds in the world as it is now can be stable or safe in the ways that used to count. Look at the compound--we had a decent population, armed to the teeth and as prepared as it was possible to be. Sitting on a stockpile of food and weapons, ready to die or kill to preserve it.

And all it took was one man to take it all away.

As I walk around this place, assisting where I can with first aid needs, I keep that simple fact in mind. We're nowhere near as well protected as we were at the compound. We're in a delicate situation. Yes, we are alive and together, which is a beautiful thing. We can pool our resources to do more than any of us could individually. And all it would take to ruin what good we have here is one person telling the Richmond soldiers where we are. Or anyone that has a jones against us, for that matter.

Hmmm. A parable just popped into my head that pretty accurately describes the situation:

A man is hanging from the edge of a cliff. In his haste to catch himself, he grabbed on to the only thing he could--a strawberry plant. As he hung there watching the thin roots slowly come out of the ground, he realized that he wouldn't be able to pull himself up. He resigned himself to his fate, knowing that he would surely fall, and at that moment he noticed a delicious berry amid the leaves. So, he ate it. 

I've always loved that one. I don't think our situation is as bleak as the man in the story, but there is a ring of truth to it nonetheless. I'll enjoy what we have while we have it, and keep an eye out for anyone taking aim at the roots...