Mr. Journal, I have relief today. On so many fronts too. I haven’t felt this positive about anything in a long time. Refreshing, this positivity thing. I’m pretty much of the opinion that while things didn’t go perfect in Westfield, they went pretty damn well.
I’ll recant that for you. After grabbing all the supplies we thought we might need we made the trip to Westfield the morning of the 20th just like we planned. For some reason I brought the laptop too. I still don’t know why I did, but I just wanted it with me. Mr. Journal goes to Westfield. Where’s next?
I wrote my drunken entry after everyone started to fall asleep that night in Lenny’s place. We sandwiched all four of us into the front of the plow truck, and while crowded, we had a good groove on. Everyone was pretty happy about what we hoped would happen. The trip was good, and we didn’t encounter trouble worth noting.
We parked at a house as close to the farm as we could get. Patty remained behind with the truck in the event we needed either defense on the car, or if she needed to zing in and rescue us. Abby Gilbert and I made our way to the farm at about 2pm. We met up with old man Lenny and his son Ollie, and they shook our hands pretty excitedly. He felt that this was a long time coming. I dedicated a pretty powerful sense of vindication off them too, which told me a lot.
Once we’d gone over the entire plan for the confrontation with Sean, I got the ok to set up in the barn, and Abby went to the chicken coop. She was not pleased to have drawn the building filled with chicken poop. I told her she was more than welcome to switch to the barn where all the cow poop was, and she quickly changed her tune. Chicken poo suddenly became fashionable. Gilbert drifted back into the trees and set himself up a reasonably comfortable position where he could cover us with his trusty AK. I had a good view through a space in the frame of the barn door.
And then the waiting started. I think it was about 3:30 when they arrived. Two humvees loaded up with people. A quick head count showed me Sgt. Mike, and officer (turned out to be Lt. Daniels), plus three National Guardsman. Also with them was Sean, and another asshole that looked like he’d previously been a big fan of Polo shirts and golf. As soon as they got out of the humvees, Ollie and Lenny came outside to meet them, and it started.
I couldn’t hear everything. From what I could see, Lenny and the Lieutenant laid it all out for him, and he took it poorly. At one point he looked like he’d shat himself, and started looking all over the place, I think he was looking for me. I laughed. Weasely round eyeglasses wearing cocksucker.
Finally he went quiet when his asshole friend Chad held onto him to steady him. After a bit, it looked like we’d get out of it clean, but something happened. Sean said something to Ollie, and Ollie lost his shit. I saw Ollie charge forward, and the officer got in the way. I couldn’t quite see, but there were four rapid gunshots, and the officer went down.
I moved. I saw Mike cold cock Sean on the back of the head, and Sean went facedown and still. His friend (who I later found was Chad) backed up and fell into a snow bank. The guardsman came rushing, and I went straight to the Lieutenant. I ripped his clothes off to get at his wounds, and wound up tearing the sheet straight off my back to form a compress.
I said hi to him, and he managed a hi to me. He was dying. One of the young privates went straight over the Sean and was about to kill his ass when the Lieutenant managed to stop him. He asked Lenny for rope.
Lenny got some baling twine from the barn, and they hogtied Sean. His buddy Chad watched in just total horror as they did it. It was literally like watching a hog being prepared for slaughter. Everyone stood around watching Lenny do it. I mean you could SEE Lenny enjoyed doing it, which told me even more about how he felt. The Ollie guy was all out of sorts, and sort of wandered around. He knelt next to Daniels as I held the compress on, and Daniels kept telling him to “forget what Sean said” and “do what your heart tells you.” And stuff like that.
I don’t know what Sean said to him, but it clearly broke Ollie’s heart. I didn’t ask.
Once Sean was tied up Daniels said to bring the two of them to the local golf course. I radioed for Patty to make her way to us, and she was there within ten minutes. Patty knew the way, and after I hopped in the truck, I plowed us a clear path the few miles out to the golf course. I cleared out the parking lot, and the soldiers got Lenny and the still knocked out Sean out of the humvees.
Daniels told them to tie him to a parked car in the lot. They looped more twine around him and tied him so he could walk, but only about ten feet. They then tied Sean to Daniels, and Daniels seemed really pleased. I can recall the look on Abby and Patty’s face when they figured out what Daniels had planned. Morbid stuff.
The officer said a tearful goodbye to his men, and they were pretty broken up. He seemed liked by his men, and that’s rare. Not a lot of officers are loved by their men. Anyway, after they all said their goodbyes, I crouched down, and we talked for a few minutes.
He said he was the man leading the assault that day, and he apologized for doing it. He was glad when I told him none of our people were hurt, and I apologized for killing their folks. It was a nice mea culpa moment. He seemed truly regretful, but a lot of people about to die are. I had a lot of respect for him. Before we left I ran back to the truck, and grabbed a full bottle of Jack I grabbed from the cafeteria, and brought it back to him.
I told him I’d brought it, and I said I’d hold him to his promise of helping me empty it. He took a swig with a wince, and thanked me. I got a little blurry eyed. When I stood up to leave, he laughed and asked me if I’d “handicap” Sean’s golf game for him. He pointed at his knee. I said sure, and I curb stomped the asshole’s leg right at the kneecap. He was still so unconscious he didn’t wake up. Daniels seemed really pleased, and I left.
The vehicles left the two dying men behind, and we went back to the farm, where we’d left Lenny and Ollie behind with Chad. I’d cuffed Chad with the cuffs I found at the police station way back when. When we got back, I made all the men share a drink with me, and after a few rounds of that, I made all the women join in too. Ollie and Lenny both took a swig, and before you know it, we’re all fucking laying the snow, looking at the giant pool of blood left behind by Lt. Daniels.
Weird moment. Bonding no doubt. I don’t know how to explain it. I mean, you go to war with someone, even someone you hate, and in the moment you hit the shit, you just understand that there’s no one else you want near you, having your back, and that was one of those moments. I just somehow knew, and I could see they knew that the same. Everyone let out the real them when we were three sheets to the wind, and with Sean out of the way, we had no barriers left to forming real friendships. Alcohol might be the key to post apocalyptic diplomacy. Who knew?
I really think these people are going to be my friends. I didn’t ever think that about Brian and the STIG people. They were always… I don’t know. Untrustworthy somehow. Maybe it’s because I met mostly ex-military folks here? I don’t know.
We wound up passing out that night at the farm. Lenny had plenty of space there for everyone, and after Mike made a message back to the school that everything was okay, and that they’d all be back the next day, we settled in for a dinner, and a drunken night’s rest. I am displeased to note Mr. Journal that we had fresh baked chicken out of Lenny’s woodstove, and I don’t remember eating a single bite of it. Figures, right? The things I do for the sake of human cohesion. Always taking one for the team.
We passed out all over the place, and I must report a joyous awakening to the smells of fresh food cooking. Lenny brought in eggs for us, and was cooking them up in various forms, and apparently he’d made fresh bread too.
Mr Journal, I can’t even describe to you how filthy, dirty, and sexy that food was. I seriously feel like I’m talking about porn when I think about the food. Fresh. Baked. Bread. Eggs. Protein and carbs. He also had butter. BUTTER.
I think I need to rub one out now. Just wow. It was like when I got that deer back in what? November? I forget. It has been so long, and I am still riding my butter high. I wanted to cut it up into lines and snort it. Filthy dirty butter. Yeah you bitch. Sexy butter.
You shoulda seen Abby and Patty and Gilbert. Hilarious. They ate so much frigging food. I felt bad, like we were stealing or something, but everyone else ate like pigs too. This was our reward for doing the dirty work of dealing with Sean. Oh, and Chad joined in on the party, but he was clearly on the outside looking in. He spent the whole time looking on, watching, with a pained expression on his face. I kinda felt bad for him.
Oh! And there was a little… romance too. I definitely caught Abby and one of the Privates talking a little too comfortably for me. Well, I mean it’s cute, and cool and all, but I feel like Abby is my own kid now, and watching a 20 year old hit on her was a little strange. Gavin seems nice enough. Little tall, little gawky, but he seemed really nervous around her, and nervous guys are always better than cocky guys. We’ll have to see how that pans out. A love affair between their people and mine might actually be nice. Like a feudal lord marrying his family into the family of his rivals, bringing them together with blood relationships.
Funny how things have rewound a few hundred years eh Mr. Journal? Like for example, I’d fucking KILL for a drawbridge and a moat for campus. If I knew a dude who could competently make bows and arrows, I’d feel hood rich. I mean I can make a bow and arrow, but I’d be just as likely to hurt myself with it than anything else.
So during and after breakfast we had the most honest conversation. Mike and Lenny without doubt were the leaders here, and I got the feeling they were the leaders for the most part back at the school. Mike was really adamant about making sure the women were brought on board, because up until that day, Sean had run the joint like a harem. He made sure to whisper that in front of me too. He pointed at Ollie. Made me think about the girl Ollie said he had the hots for. Sucks. Anyway, Mike really wanted to make sure they were represented. After all, he said they had 37 people left, and of that, there were 27 women. Talk about Team Vagina. That’s like.. League Vagina. A whole.... box’s worth of vagina if you will. I bet they’re tight. But they might be loose too, you can never tell until you get close to them.
I wonder if any of them are my type? Naughty Adrian. No. Bad boy.
We left after noon with the understanding that we’d be available via radio on channel 4, the same one they used. We tested walkies and ones we use are compatible. We also set a date for them to come visit us at the campus on the 25th, which is three days away. They said their biggest need was fresh water. I told them we could use more .223 ammo, and more 9mm. Gas or diesel would rock, and any “new” sorts of food would be terrific too.
In town like they are, they are on town water, which has not pumped for them in months. They’ve been melting snow, but when the snow melts in spring they’ll be relying on rain, and that’s random. I told them we have artesian water, and as long as we can work out a fair trade system for eggs, milk, chickens, and ammo or medical care, we would make sure they always had fresh water from us, at least until they could secure a more local supply. Mike and Lenny agreed that a trade system would be awesome until at least spring. We also talked about mutual supply concerns like gasoline and diesel. They said they’d gotten a lot of fuel, but their furnace at the school ran on diesel, and so did their humvees. Double dipping sucks. The expression “burning the candle at both ends” comes to mind, and it’s damn appropriate.
After spring, we’d need to find something else to barter with. Which is cool, I really like that idea. It forces us to be productive! Yay! Work is freedom! Communism for the win! We’ve got farmland on campus, and between Lenny’s fields, and our fields, we can crop rotate to make sure we’re always growing the important stuff, and we’ve always got trade material between the groups. It could really work out for everyone.
Kind of exciting actually. I feel a little dopey being a water seller though lol.
We left them on a great note. I mean it was super positive. The drive back was also amazingly easy, as we found out they had no patrols, no defenses, and nothing stopping us from simply rolling into town the whole time. Talk about wasted time right? When we were able to drop the plow and clear the tougher spots in the road out, life was much easier. Trips back and forth will be pretty fast.
So yeah. We passed and killed three more undead on Route 18, and three more after that on Auburn Lake Road. It definitely seems like they are making their way from downtown to campus. I got a sick feeling sooner or later here we’re going to be dealing with large numbers of undead. Makes me want to get some serious trades for ammo going on. Mike said they had a lot of ammo for their M4s in storage, and I would LOVE to get a few hundred more rounds.
So yeah. Sean’s dead. I think. I told Mike I wanted him to double check the golf course to make sure the Lt. and Sean were both put down in the right way, and he said he’d take care of it. Once he confirms to me that Sean’s dead… I might dance a jig.
So the plan now is to try and relax a bit, and get some rest. The past ten days have been a motherfucker of stress and activity, and I desperately need to take it relatively easy here. We’re not posting guard in Hall A tonight, and Gilbert is staying here in Hall E with us. Gilbert is worried his house will get attacked by too many zombies for him to deal with. Makes sense. His defenses are good for two or three zombies, but any more than that, and he might have trouble. Hall E is pretty much a fortress versus the undead now.
Gonna try and sleep in a bit tomorrow, then maybe take the bow out and see if I can clear out some undead on Auburn Lake Road for archery practice. I need to get some bow time in.
How do I spell relief Mr. Journal?
S-E-A-N I-S D-E-A-D.
Are you rocking any Adrian's Undead Diary gear? Why the fuck not? We could use the support, and Adrian would clearly approve. Subscribers get 10% off with their discount code in the premium forum Hall E. Head over to the School Store and pick something up. We'd appreciate the support, and frankly, we sell cool shit.