Saturday, April 23, 2011


Painkillers are a beautiful thing.

Except for the part where they make me incredibly nauseous, of course. Evans did the best he could with my tooth, but it's not pretty. Can't blame the guy for not having dental training, but the job's done. Time will tell if I lose or keep the damn thing, but for now it's still firmly attached to my skull. The filling isn't world-class, but between him and Becky they got the job done.

This minor emergency reminds me that for all the speed with which we managed to put together many parts of the compound, there are always going to be things we overlooked. I mean, the first wall we built was basically just made of cars parked around the outside of the place, the cracks filled in with whatever we could find. When more and more people started to show up, all our efforts went to getting a permanent wall in place. You've seen how well that went--it's falling to pieces in some places.

The same goes for farming. While every person in the compound is responsible for caring for the plants that we have growing in what used to be our yards, last year we pretty much raided every farm we could find around here for the crops already growing. It was only after the shepherds and farmers from out east came to settle with us that plans were made for large-scale farming outside our walls.

Every step of the way, we've had to deal with the fact that each mistake we make will eventually become a bigger problem. The zombies outside the walls may fluctuate in numbers, but they're never going to go away. At least they haven't yet. Every repair, every change of plans, every ounce of wasted effort, means risking attack. We're a strong group, but there isn't a day that goes by where I don't worry that it will be the one where we're overrun.

I look back at the very first days of The Fall, and I realize how lucky we were. Jess and I worked like crazy to fortify the house while every other person in this neighborhood except for my mom packed up and left or was killed. So many people funneled into supposedly safe areas guarded by the military. So many dead along the way to those areas...

We got really lucky. Many members of my family benefited from the early warnings I gave them. I lost far more of them than managed to survive--aunts, uncles, cousins by the score. Part of why we examine ourselves so hard here in the compound is because we've collectively lost so much. There isn't a lot of room for error.

I think the painkillers are making me a little loopy. I'm going to go before I make an ass of myself. I just worry about everyone so much...

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