I'm surprised it took this long for the council to get around to setting a date for our trial. Generally they don't waste time with that sort of thing. I suppose it shouldn't really be that surprising; there's a war going on, after all. One I know nothing about at the moment, other than seeing and hearing the constant activity outside.
We're up on the block tomorrow. I don't know if all of us will be together or if they want to try us separately, but there you go. Sometime tomorrow afternoon I'll have a verdict--guilty, since we're not even pretending otherwise--and a punishment. Assuming I'm allowed to at least blog that to you I'll let you know. If not, if I'm slapped in chains or whatever, I'll have someone get on here and let you know what the deal is.
I can't help that detached feeling. Even though the last two days have been spent outside working to clear the dead from our walls--occasionally halted due to another attack, which Jess and I were at least allowed to participate in--we're still being held apart from the community. I begin to understand why so many people out there latched onto this blog. It's lonely and unnerving to know so much must be happening around me. The citizens are barred from telling me anything, from even speaking to us other than in situations that demand it.
I hate this but I know it isn't unreasonable. I founded Haven sort of by accident, because I couldn't justify turning peaceful people away. It might be arrogant of me but I can't help feeling responsibility for all our folks, and worry for everyone else in the Union. I don't know how the war is going, what the movements of the zombie swarms look like, what threats are facing us. I would worry a lot even if I did know those things. Not knowing makes it so much worse.
But again, I don't blame it on anyone but myself. We did what we had to do, what we felt was right. In retrospect we were all almost willfully blind about the enormous risk we were putting ourselves in, and what the knowledge we carried represented in terms of value to our enemies. It was reckless and stupid and I would do it again in a second. I should feel torn about that. I don't.
The world is a harsher place now. The undead and human enemies and all the ephemeral threats we can't fight with a gun carry the constant potential to end us in a flash. I've often debated the philosophy of understanding the difference between what is right and what is necessary on this blog. I feel like rescuing Pat was both. I didn't do it for the good of the group. I did it for selfish reasons. We all did.
I'll be glad to have it over with. Waiting is the worst. I really don't mind getting my comeuppance but it's pretty irritating to live in the anxiety of not knowing what it is. More than anything else I'll just be glad to be allowed some kind of contact with others. I really want to know what's happening out there.