Saturday, July 9, 2011

Getting Word

We've finally had contact with our people from Bald Knob. Those amazing people have done the impossible: they're going to be bringing reinforcements from North Jackson. 

Our people have been out of touch because they've been in areas that have been deserted for a long time, almost since The Fall itself. They've been looking for a way to transport enough people here to make a difference in the fight against the swarm outside our walls. Though the fighting against the zombies has been intense over the last few days, especially last night, we've got a little more hope now. 

The Bald Knob crew found a large bus garage north of us, and they've loaded up on all the diesel fuel they could find. That's actually quite a lot, considering the garage itself had nearly a forty school buses with at least partial tanks of gas. They've loaded each bus with what they hope will be enough fuel to make it to southern Michigan and back. They're already on the way. 

Which is really goddamn nice. I wish they'd been in an area that had cell reception, but I'll take what I can get. Jess and I are exhausted to the point of tears, and that doesn't make us anything special around here. There are a couple places on the wall where the undead are indeed walking up those previously hypothetical ramps of slain zombies and attacking the top of the wall. So far we've managed to push them back, but I don't know how long we'll be able to stem the tide. A full-on breach seems inevitable. 

Excepting the massive losses from the zombies overrunning the annex, we've done pretty well. We've lost few people, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that we haven't had to fight too many zombies at one time. We're also not giving them a lot of chances to get close. We have archers posted all over the place, and the men and women that are actually fighting hand to hand are doing so with long weapons like spears. It's pretty easy to take down a zombie rushing clumsily up a hill of dead bodies while you're standing there on solid footing with a heavy weapon. 

Oh, and most of the hand-to-hand fighters are wearing armor of one type of another. 

It's almost breathtaking to watch. Men and women staying calm as a zombie gets inside their guard, shrugging off a bite to their heavily clothed and protected necks. We've got roaming groups of off-duty fighters and some of the older kids running around from fight to fight, killing any undead that happen to be thrown to the ground inside the compound. 

Will has done a lot of defending on the top of the wall himself. I've seen him wearing the turnout gear (firefighting outfit, if you aren't familiar with the term. Heavy, thick, almost impossible to bite through) that we took from a large supplier in Lexington. He fights with a quarterstaff and a machete like something out of a story. 

Not that others aren't doing the same. Every time I see a group of zombies come up one of the piles of bodies toward our folks, my heart clenches in my chest. I only relax when I witness the defenders swinging weapons and working in unison to stave off the attack. There's always more of them, though. Always another wave. 

I've lost track of the actual numbers, but I think we've lost a total of about seventy people since this massive assault began. I could be wrong there, but it sounds somewhere in the ballpark. My heart hurts for those souls, who've endured so much and fought so hard to stay alive. Their sacrifice means more to me than I'll ever be able to say. 

The practical side of me remembers how short on food we're getting, though...

Come quickly, people of North Jackson. We need you. 

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