Victories are relative, and almost never cut-and-dry. The day before yesterday was all we could have hoped for. The trades went well, and New Haven is stocked up for a long haul, with more food and supplies in the pipeline contingent on production of our medical supplies.
We're also getting more requests for medical treatment from survivors around the country. We'll take them, for the trades being offered in return as much as to help out. We'll take them despite the overload our medical personnel are under right now.
While the day before yesterday was good, yesterday was awful. The exiles left some surprises for us, and a group of our hunters paid the price of discovering one of them.
Six of the eighteen people that were hit by the bomb died instantly. Turns out Will wasn't the only one to experiment with building shrapnel bombs. Where his were made to destroy vehicles, these were designed to inflict maximum fatalities on a group of people.
The other twelve are being seen to right now, and they're a mess. A couple of them are probably going to die, and the rest of them could be months in recovery. God only knows what complications will hit those poor people.
We've got people out searching for more of these things. It's amazing the damage that can be done with a few pounds of explosives and some roofing nails. It's a blessing and a curse that human ingenuity for destruction has survived the end of the world. It keeps us alive, but keeps us killing one another.
I have an announcement to make, an important one, but I don't want to eclipse this tragedy. I'll pass it on tomorrow. For today, we care for the wounded.
Jess is one of them. I'm trying not to think about it.
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