We're still camped out. Last night Kincaid and I spent a long, long time leading the swarm of zombies away from our position, thinning them out as we went. It's funny how little realizations can come to you at the oddest times. In this case, both of us were wearing our heavy armored clothing, which is proof against bites, claws, and basically any zombie getting an easy piece of us to snack on.
Our gear is a bitch to put on. Heavy double-knit cotton fabric sandwiched with aluminum rings in the form of chainmail, thick plastic armor plates here and there, and layers upon layers of clothing. Helmets, of course, and the whole deal weighs upwards of thirty, forty pounds. That's before weapons, backpacks, and all the other crap we carry with us in case we get separated and have to live out in the wild until we can make it back.
The New Breed have changed things a lot. It's not as safe as it once was to wander among the dead. Sure, if it's old school zombies we're dealing with we can cover ourselves in zombie gore and pass for one of them. Smarter undead usually know the difference, but the armor has been a game-changer from day one. Now, though, they understand that killing us outright isn't the best way to do it. Wear us out, slow us down, and get us weak. Then it's easy enough to pile on a lone survivor and slowly tear away the layers until they get to the sweet candy center.
That was what the zombie tried to do to us last night, but Kincaid and I work well together as a team. We took turns thinning the herd, one of us rabbiting out in front while the other circled wide to come in and pick off the dead from the sides. It's never boring, but it is time-consuming and exhausting work. Especially since you have to constantly be aware that one misstep can mean a dozen bodies piling on you at once.
Still, it's more interesting than just sitting here letting them pound away at the truck while we wait for word from the UAS. We did get a message from them telling us they had the matter under discussion. Jess got that one when she was away from our camp on watch duty near the UAS facility we're threatening. One of us is always within sight of it in case the UAS need to communicate with us or to blow the explosives if they decide to get frisky.
On the other hand, we've had enough communications from Haven to last a lifetime. Will is furious, the council only slightly less so, but the general tone from the people at large in Haven is positive. I'd like to point out that each person on this trip made a choice and had the right to do so. We aren't property. We're free people. Leaving isn't something Haven has laws against. Stealing all the gear we needed to make the trip is another issue entirely, but the weird thing is that Will and the council aren't even berating us about that part. It's the fact that we're out here at all that bothers them.
However you want to cut it, it's done. We left, we're in a situation we can't abandon, and the chips are going to fall how they may. Best for us to keep our minds on the business at hand and get it done. We'll deal with the consequences later. Right now they're just a distraction.