Hi. I know this post says Josh on it, but this isn't him. My name is Stephen Kincaid, though no one calls me by my first name. You've read about me here and there. You're probably wondering why I'm writing this post. So am I.
Josh didn't name the teammates that went with him to Clinton to dig out the marauders that had set up there. He didn't want anyone bringing any scrutiny against us, especially given my history. Guess that makes it pretty clear that I was one of the other people. Not the marksman. I was the one who went with Josh into the marauder camp. I helped do the dirty work.
While we were away, I had a lot of time to get to know him better. I've read this blog here and there over the last two years or so. What he writes gives you an idea of what kind of guy Josh is, but just like anything else you can't really know someone just from letters on a screen.
During those days we were out, Josh got to know me too. He admitted that he hasn't put a lot of effort into getting to know me until now because of what I used to be. A marauder. A bad guy. I can't lay much blame on him for that. I didn't like being that person. I still have a hard time sleeping.
Danger and proximity have a way of building rapport between people. Days stuck together and mutually bitching about the scorching swamp our small tent was, moving at a moment's notice to avoid detection, and having to do...the things we did, all have a way of making our differences seem minor. It's hard to judge a man for the terrible choices he's had to make when you're having to make one just as bad together.
Sorry, I know this is strange and I'm not doing it right. I'm rambling. I'm trying to explain why I'm writing here and not getting very close to the mark. Josh is sick. Not the new plague. Just allergies leading to a plain old infection. He didn't even know he had caught something until yesterday. He just thought his neck was hurting because of how he slept. He'd been congested and feeling off for a few days, but that's what happens to people with allergies when trees are fucking all around them.
He's sleeping in the other room right now, and thought it would be a nice change of pace for someone else to put their voice out there. We've got each other's measure a lot better now, and Josh thought it would help the other former marauders out there gain some acceptance in their communities if one of us had a platform to speak from. I have a hard time feeling human some days, looking back on what I have done. I can understand how many of you have the same problem when you look at us.
I did promise to mention that there is some good news right now. Some report from the doctors here Josh got last night says that the worst of the new plague seems to be over. More people are getting better than are falling ill. Deaths have tapered off. And his wife Jess is improving.
I'm really happy about that. She has always been nice to me. Never looked at me funny because of my history, just treated me like a person. Which, when I think about it too hard, seems like maybe more than I deserve.
Okay. I'm ending this awkward mess. I told him I'm not much for writing. I had to read over a lot of his posts to get comfortable enough to even do this. Josh is going to take tomorrow off as always and if he's feeling better will be back Tuesday.