It never ceases to amaze me how a human can adapt to anything. Even when presented with the most dire circumstances, people find a way to make things “normal”.
Normal. That’s a term I use lightly.
How can anything be considered normal? I equate normal to being comfortable and I’m certainly not comfortable right now. Grand Rapids reminds me a lot of Duluth. Course a lot of cities and towns in Minnesota look alike. Sure would have been interesting to visit a big city like Minneapolis or St. Paul. Maybe not now but you know. I’m kinda kicking myself for not doing so before. Fuck. There’s a lot of things I wish I had done. Oh well…
We’ve been here for a few days now. I was half expecting this city to be another forage into Waco but thankfully we happened upon some rather stand up folks here. I’m not sure of what’s going on in the rest of the city but these people got their shit together. They had cleverly set up shop along the Paper Mill Reservoir in a factory next to the bridge. They’ve sealed off the other side of the bridge and have created a perimeter using a series of obstructions from cars to heavy machinery creating a decent wall around the immediate area. The parking lot in front of the factory serves as sort of a staging ground with the factory itself being a lock down fortress. We saw it from miles away. It’s hard to miss actually. They have the area well lit with flood lights so we were kinda drawn to it like moths to the flame. There’s a steady plume of smoke that emanates form the factory making it look like a giant cabin. It draws a lot of attention from the deadheads but from what I learned later is it’s part of their strategy. We had come in along the banks on the other side of the reservoir. We were spotted by sentries they had posted immediately. We had been traveling so long that I didn’t even try to escape. I guess the fact that we weren’t immediately fired upon was a good sign.
They sent a small armed fishing boat across to us and helped dispatch some of the local nasties that had started to gather. We were greeted by an older black gentlemen named Benjamin Jones. He looked as though he’d seen his fair share of grief in the past month but welcomed us aboard with a proud smile and open arms. They didn’t look like military but their operation was quite professional. There are 24 of us in total here. Everyone has a job. Everyone contributes. I guess that’s where the normalcy comes into play. I’ve never been much of a leader. I’ve always felt most at ease just going with the flow. For the past however many days I’ve had to make some really tough decisions… some of which have been awful… a few good. It’s very taxing to say the least. I suck at being responsible for others so it was refreshing to have a group of people that knew how to do the job correctly… or at least it looks like they do.
I’m still not too sure about Joesph though. Yeah, I managed to fish that name out of him a couple of days ago. Well I didn’t but Anna did. One day while we were camped out on a rooftop in La Praine waiting for a scavenging mob to pass us by he finally started to talk – to her. I’m not exactly sure how comfortable I am with that but I overhead him say his name was Joesph… Joesph Barnes. We still haven’t exchanged words since that day but he’s been tagging along ever since getting all buddy buddy with Anna. She doesn’t see the potential threat he poses. I mean why not, he looks like someone’s grandfather and talks in a soft baritone voice. There’s something about him though. Something distant in the way he just gazes at things – at people. We’ve all lost so much in this ordeal but I can’t help but think his train left the station a long time ago.
Oh well. He hasn’t done anything detrimental as of yet so I guess I can’t crucify the guy for doing nothing. But I’ve definitely gotta keep Anna away from him…
So here we are now going about living the way we have to now. I can’t knock it though. It’s good to have some structure back in my life. I have bank patrol in a couple of hours then I’m on burn duty after dinner. Yes burn duty. They actually burn the bodies that start to pile up so as to not promote disease. No one’s exactly running the sewage treatment plants anymore so you kinda have to make due. Letting the bodies accumulate also poses a threat of breach because these dumb fuckers just keep marching forward stepping on the bodies of their fallen comrades. If you let it go for too long they’d eventually have a ramp of bodies to walk right over the walls with. We can’t very well toss bodies into our water supply out back either so burning is the only option. It’s quite a horrid odor… even more than the stench that’s already in the air but you get used to it. It’s a small price to pay considering.
I’m thinking about talking to Jones tonight and seeing if he’ll disclose how he got things set up here. Perhaps it’ll be beneficial to others around the world if they had a sorta guideline of how to defend. He’s a man wise beyond his years. Oddly enough he doesn’t even consider the zombies the biggest threat. It’s the looters he’s more concerned with. This whole compound is more geared towards fending off people than the undead.
“Zombies march, moan and eat. That’s all that’s on their minds. It’s the living human mind that keeps me up at night.”
A man after my own heart.