Got about an hour of sleep, and that was between nine and ten last night. I've been up the rest of the time, and I'm running on fumes. Most of us are.
Damn smart zombies hit another section of the wall last night that's been under repair. We weren't caught off guard this time, thank god, since the last attack taught us a lesson about not putting extra guards on weak spots. Still, this attack was different, and I think pretty important.
They hit us in groups. None were very large, maybe fifty or sixty at a time, but they kept coming. Every time an assault would end, another would attack just as we were getting ready to withdraw. I don't know if they were gauging the time it would take us to give up and decided that the assault was over, or if they were just trying to weaken us. I'd kill to know how the smarties communicate with the lesser, dumber undead. It isn't verbal from what we can tell. It's also fascinating to me.
Last night, I found a book that I'd bought a while ago and never started to read. It's called "The Warded Man", by Peter V. Brett. I was tired and one of my trainees had found it and set it out on my desk, I thought it would be a nice way to unwind, reading something new.
I won't get into too many details, but it's a good book. In it, humanity is constantly assaulted by hordes of demons every night, held back from destroying mankind by magical wards painted or carved on things. I naturally found myself wishing for such an easy solution to our problems, but that's fiction for you. It takes us somewhere that has solutions to problems that the real world just can't offer. It's a nice escape.
It just makes coming back to reality that much harder. I wish we had something like Brett's wards to use against the zombies as they probe our defenses. I suppose we'll just have to do as we always have, which is the best we can with what is in our hands.
I'm going to finish up some work that can't wait, and then I'm taking the day off to sleep.