Battered

Yesterday was a bad day. I just woke up.

Jess actually had plans for us for our anniversary, but much like the adorable kid in a family comedy the zombies wrecked those plans. Only this was less cute and more 'we're going to mass for a huge attack on your supply lines.'

The long and short of it is that with the weather getting nice, the undead are becoming more and more of a problem. It's a sticky situation since so many of our people are out fighting the good fight. Haven is big, with a lot of wall to defend. And we're not even seeing the full effect here: the outer defenses are still keeping the worst of the attacks from getting to Haven's walls. We're hard pressed to get anything done other than defend the place and, as of yesterday, the people moving in and out of Haven who keep the place supplied with vital resources.

Big K has been out and about for the last few days. I've only seen him once or twice, but I heard he's been working about six different jobs and catching naps on the wall. The guy is dedicated, I'll grant him that, but I worry about him pushing too hard. Jess went out a few minutes ago to try to find him and drop off a care package. Being the head of agriculture has its advantages, being a noncombatant primary among them.

As for the rest of us, well, we're beat. I don't know how long we can deal with these sustained attacks. It was different when the undead would pile up and strike at one place, and even more so when Haven was a fifth of its current size. Now we're short on bodies and have so much more wall to defend, and the undead are hitting all over the place when they aren't attacking supply caravans. It makes for a lot of running and use of energy. The greatest tragedy in the world right now is that the only caffeine we have access to is in the form of tea. I'm risking my life for this place. You'd think the universe would give us a break and allow me a more palatable intake method for my drug of choice.

I meant that to come out funny, but I think I missed the mark.

It's just so hard to keep going. I'm all for the fight, don't get me wrong, but the exhaustion is reaching critical mass for a lot of us. We're waking up at all hours, fighting for our lives, missing meals, and then doing it all over again. I'm not complaining; it has to be done, no question. But I've noticed the strain in other people as well. Men and women who, a week ago, would laugh and joke between fights are now as grim-faced and quiet as anyone. We're being stretched paper-thin and tight as piano wire. It's less of a question of whether or not we have the will to continue as much as if we have the physical ability to do so. If something doesn't change soon, and for the better, I have no doubt that we'll start making mistakes.

This war has consequences and repercussions none of us anticipated. The problem with building a better world, a better community, is that you end up with so much more to defend. The stakes raise on an emotional and mental level, but the real-world analog is that what you're defending is bigger and more delicate. It takes more people and effort.

We've got the effort, but the shortage of human beings available is getting drastic. We need a miracle.