God I’m tired. Feeling like shit yesterday really took it out of me. I feel better today, but really drained. I’m good, and Lindsey’s two kids are good, which tells us that it was probably something we ate. Maybe there was something funny on the vegetables? Who knows.
Blake reported seeing nothing at The Farm yesterday, and with me still feeling a little queasy today, he went once more by himself. His report today when he returned home was mundane. He did say he saw two vehicles moving through town on the way back here, and that’s a little sketchy. One minivan, and one sedan. No word on passenger count. He thought they didn’t see him, but there’s no way of knowing.
Today was Abby’s birthday, and we’ve been planning a little shindig for her. We don’t have much to work with anymore obviously, but it’s the thought that counts. To make our plan work, we sent Abby and her more or less healed finger out with the house cleaning crew. Gilbert feigned illness so he could stay behind to help.
He and I worked in the kitchen all day and managed to bake a chocolate cake. We had a few cans of cocoa powder, and lots of flour, and eggs and etc, so he did the magic work, and I made some poor man’s frosting out of confectioner’s sugar and more cocoa. Abby I guess likes fish, so once we had the cake baked up, we went to the shore of the lake, and cast our lines out for a few hours.
Gilbert seems weird lately. He’s definitely been short of temper, evidenced by the whole sticking a gun in Blake’s chin incident. I dunno, maybe the stress of it all is getting to him. We chilled out at the water in some lawn chairs with a few beers and waited for something to bite.
By the end of the afternoon we’d brought up four lake trout which was far more than I thought we’d get. We should fish more. It’s a pretty big lake, and as long as we ration out our fishing days, we should be able to keep ourselves in fish through the warmer months with little effort. It was nice to spend some time with the old man where we weren’t on 100% vigilance. He and I don’t ever get to be civil to one another.
I was definitely put into moment of bad mood though when we were coming back to the campus. I noticed two zombies coming across the bridge right past the single van we have. I haven’t seen a zombie up here in a very long time. I put the lawn chair down, dropped into a firing crouch, and punched one’s ticket. Like a douchebag I forgot to bring my melee weapon with me, so I dropped the other one with the M4 too.
Not sure what led them here. Especially in the middle of the day. Ollie hollered out on the radio asking what was up, and I told him we had a small breach. He called back that he’d get right on finishing the fence and gate. Once that gate and fence are up, our worries diminish dramatically.
Gilbert got the fish ready, and I transported the damn zombie corpses back to the body pile, which was fucking ripe. There isn’t much there at the moment, but the combination of spring warmth and decomposition and maggots make it just nasty. Smells fucking rotten. I gagged hard trying to get those bodies taken care of back there.
We got everything else prepared for dinner. The cake was ready, the fish were ready to be cooked, we had fresh vegetables from the pots, some canned stuff, we made some of the infinite Jello we have, as well as a smattering of other shit. It was a good spread.
The weather was really nice, and we had everything set up outside for when they all returned. Needless to say, Abby was pissed at Gavin because it was clearly his fault that he didn’t tell her we had set this all up for her. She was honestly surprised. Very happy, but also a little embarrassed.
There are no gifts really we can give. Another gun from the stockpile? More ammunition from the crates? Some clothes we got from a dead person’s house? It all seems meaningless now. I think Abby was happy that we were all here, all safe, and celebrating. Patty was a bit of an emotional wreck at one point. Her kid’s first birthday without Charles was tough on her. The Williams girls had some special time to work it out, and they returned to the fresh fish, and a half assed cake made by two Army men.
It wasn’t dinner at the Ritz, but it was nice.
Happy 18th birthday Abigail. May you have many more.
Tomorrow I’m headed to The Farm for another recon. Mike and the guys and gals are returning on the 17th for a trade and meet. With any luck they’ll have something good to trade, or at least have good news about something. We’ve got lukewarm news to give them about all this Farm business.
Otis has decreed it is time to sleep. He’s bonking his forehead into my elbow, which is his way of saying “get settled, so I can crawl up your ass for warmth.”
I don’t get it, it’s nice and warm tonight. I’ve got the windows open too, and there’s no need to role play being a dingleberry on my taint to stay warm.
Weird ass cat.