When we returned home yesterday I thought our group would be slapped in chains without hesitation. It didn't help that the front gates were mobbed by undead, requiring us to get out and fight while the defenders on the wall cleared them out. To think, I used to complain about our front door sticking. Fighting a few dozen zombies just to get inside is a bit more annoying.
Haven looks bad. Inside the wall hasn't changed over the last week and a half, but outside is very different. Seems the outer defenses gave in at several key places, allowing larger numbers of zombies to move in and attack our walls again. Not such a big deal considering how much time we spent without the outer defenses at all, but irritating for the people who started farming in the new space. All that has to wait until and unless something can be done to shore up the perimeter.
The buffer is down in a bunch of spots, too. I understand that some maintenance was being done on those parts while we were gone, a plan to strengthen and reinforce the cabling that keeps the undead from swarming the wall. Maybe even enough to slow down humans, too. Turns out the timing on that was badly executed; the work crews had to run inside when a section of the outer defenses fell, letting a horde of undead in.
The numbers aren't the major factor in how dangerous the zombies around here are becoming. There are a lot of them, to be sure, but what I saw out in the world is happening here as well. They're starving. The strongest of them, the most vicious, are preying on the weak in their desperation to husband their strength. They're using that strength to come against Haven, and it shows. The walls are stained with the ichor of constant attacks, the bodies so numerous they can't be collected and burned with any regularity.
And we're all locked in our houses. Becky isn't allowed to leave her lab. Patrick is thankfully in the clinic and not in any trouble--why would he be?--but Kincaid and the rest of us are on house arrest. I only saw Will for a brief minute yesterday. He was more angry than I've ever seen him.
Jess has been relieved of her post, her duties spread out among her many assistants and trainees. Even before The Fall she had a hard time dealing with any period of her life that lacked work. Now she's home with no ability to leave, and it might drive her insane.
K is here, a small concession from the council that also serves as a double-edged sword. K worked here in the house while I was gone, continuing our effort to put together this place's history and chronology and tinkering with the survival manual. He's working right next to me as I type this, yet I have the sneaking suspicion I'm allowed to continue on with his help because they want him to replace me should I also be relieved of my duties on a more permanent basis.
You know, the kind that comes with incarceration. Or whatever passes for it nowadays.