The Tools at Hand

I'm keeping it short today as we don't have time to waste. Late yesterday Rachel caught a glimpse of whoever is following us. Getting confirmation from someone else is nice, but it also means I'm not just paranoid and that we have a serious problem. The question is whether they're following us home or just waiting for an opportune time to attack us.

We're not in very good fighting shape, that much is obvious. Even if their numbers match ours we'd be greatly overwhelmed. Will came up with a solution, and it makes me think he's crazier than the rest of us put together.

We're using zombies. We've spent the morning slowly accumulating a train of them behind us. We're moving at a snail's pace so they can keep up and don't lose interest. The bag of raw meat we're trailing behind us helps with that a bit.

They've created a buffer for us. It would be impossible for anyone to get close enough to do us harm without having to deal with our pet swarm. Yes, it's stupidly dangerous, but so is having some marauder jam a knife in my throat while I'm sleeping. Trust me, I know.

The debate has been whether or not to keep heading for home. Now that we know we're being followed, I have to ask why. Where New Haven is located isn't a secret. We aren't necessary for anyone to find their way to Frankfort. Any map would do the trick.

I've talked to Jess and some of the others at New Haven, and they're telling us to come on home. The citizens are ready to deal with whatever may come. The walls are strong, weapons ready. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, but I'm leaning that direction.

We're making slow progress today, but my hope is that we can lose our pursuers when we get closer to home. I won't say how I plan on doing that since they might be reading this, but I have some thoughts.

That's about all I have time for. We're threading a needle with these zombies, and time is critical. I'll check in again when I can. Cross your fingers for us.