What an exhausting couple of days.
Yesterday we spent some time trying to spruce up the security around our gate. We've been talking about this for a while now, but other more pressing issues always seem to arise. I think the late night encounter we had the other day finally drove it to the top of our to-do list.
The real problem with the gate is that for every bit of strength or security we add to it, it costs us in the time it takes to open and close it. Sure, the zeds don't move quite quickly enough for milliseconds to count, but we don't want to be caught in a situation where we're being pursued, we've run out of ammo, and we can't get the damn thing closed quick enough to keep them at bay.
We also want to keep it light enough that it can be manually operated by only one person. This frees us to have more people out of base scavenging or doing surveillance, or, in a pinch, fighting off zeds as someone runs to open it so we can get in.
It's a tricky equation, and this project is going to require a lot more work before any of us are truly satisfied with it. I think we've made some real progress, though. For one, the gate we scrounged was much wider than it needed to be for us to get even a vehicle in and out. Since we first secured it, we haven't had enough time or peace to address this issue, even though we have all the tools we need to cut it down and make it more secure. Today seemed to finally be the perfect day to cut it down to a manageable size. This left us a leftover piece that we could permanently secure, adding a lot more rigidity to the whole structure.
Luckily we were able to accomplish this and get everything tightened up before any zeds wandered over to investigate the sounds of our cutting and welding. We lured them up against the gate when they got here, to give it a field test, and let them try their best for a while. We were all pleased a how much more stable gate seems now, though I'm sure if we dedicate some scavenging runs to the matter, we can do even better.
As the sun was setting, we dispatched the zeds and cleaned up the place. It's been a long several days, so once evening rounds were agreed upon and we plowed through our dinner, most of us went to pass out. The night was pretty calm, and my own shift uneventful. Those shifts are both a blessing and curse. On the one hand it's nice to be able to relax a bit and not feel like you're in the midst of a constant battle. On the other hand, it can make you very paranoid, and often feels like a moment of calm before the storm.
I suppose I was indeed sensing a storm last night, but not the kind I've come to expect.
Waking up today, I found myself staring out at a beautiful, bright, sunny day. Ian had woken up before me and mentioned the night was clear on all watches, and had remained clear in to today. we talked for a bit, and decided we should go out on an extended surveillance run down in to Brookline. As I've mentioned before, we've been slowly extending our circle of influence and reconnaissance. Our survival plan relies on two simple things: keep the immediate area as clear of zeds as possible, and find more supplies as we begin to use ours up. The added benefit of this is that, as our territory expands, the zeds lose some of theirs. Enough survivors employing the same tactic, and we may all be able to work together to reclaim the city. That's the dream, anyway, though it's a long way off from where we are.
Since the discovery of Molly's group to the west tells us more about that part of town and how far we can reach in that direction, we decided it was time to expand again. Today's run would give us a much needed push to the south, an area we had neglected more than others. Ian and I geared up, and grabbed the long range radio to stay in communication with the base. We wished everyone the best, and set the pick-up cruising along in neutral. Second lesson we learned about using vehicles, never run them near your base.
When we got a sufficient distance away I kicked on the engine, hit the gas, and threw the truck in to drive. The first few times I did this back when we first got the truck, I thought the transmission was going to drop out on to the road. Now it's as smooth as ice. It's a fun trick I suggest you learn if you're running something with a manual transmission. It can also be done in an automatic with some finagling, but not as cleanly and with more wear and tear than it may be worth.
The run went pretty smoothly on the way down. I've gotten used to the various blockages and zed population centers, so I know how to avoid them. Ian seems to enjoy riding shotgun and picking off any zeds that get too close. We had pushed our way as far as we had intended, and were beginning to run our circuitous route home when I realized we were heading not far from where some old friends of mine were living when the dead rose. I decided to see what I could of their fate by heading down their particular street, since it would keep me clear of the nearby zed population centers.
- B
Showing posts with label compound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label compound. Show all posts
Friday
Day 218 - A Day in the Life, Part One
Sorry I ran off so abruptly yesterday, but duty calls at the worst of times. Here's a run down of what happened:
I grabbed my rifle out of the rack I built for it and ran to the back stairs, heading for the roof. Ian was at the back door undoing the bolts as I got there, and we both ran up to the roof to see what was happening.
I should probably explain a little bit about our set-up here. We live in a second floor apartment in the Brighton neighborhood of Boston, and when things went to shit, we decided it was best to hole up here instead of joining the panicking masses making a run for it. The first floor is pretty indefensible with the giant glass front door. We opted to take out the front stairs down to the first floor instead. We've managed to secure the back doors to the downstairs apartments (thank God they have steel frames). We've also secured the basement so we could have a workshop and a way to get out of the building. The only doors to the basement are metal security doors, and lead to the parking lot out back.
Two sides of the parking lot have 5 foot concrete walls and another 6 feet of fencing on top of that. The third side is bounded by our buildings. To close off what used to be the driveway, we scavenged some sturdy gates to fasten at the bottom of the hill. They're designed to move so we can get vehicles in and out, but are sturdy enough to keep out the zeds long enough for us to pick them off. We've also cleared and secured all the buildings on the block to make sure nothing can get in to the lot that way. A little perimeter alarm around the whole deal has saved our ass a few times, though we fight hard not to let ourselves rely on it too much.
Our base of operations is on the second and third floors of our original building, as we're trying to keep our footprint small. We have room to grow, but not the supplies or means yet. Hopefully some day soon we'll be able to take in more survivors and more effectively try to reclaim our city. Hopefully some survivors will stay alive until they can make it to us, unlike most of the folk that come this way.
For now, though, it's just 5 of us. Myself and Ian who were living here, have taken over leadership and planning, as we both seem to excel at it. We're also blessed with our friend Alec and Ian's girlfriend Crista, who happened to be over when hell came to us, and our friend Brian, who we found fighting for his life on one of our supply runs.
Anyway, it occurs to me I was trying to tell a story. Ian and I scrambled up to the roof to get a look at what was going on. We searched the streets frantically for the woman, and Ian eventually spotted her not far off to the west. Unfortunately that's the worst way to approach here. There are tons of alleys for zeds to pop out of, and there's some light tree cover between us and where the poor woman was, which makes for somewhat crappy sniping.
The woman seemed far too healthy to be a nomad, so she must have come from some survivor cell somewhere. There's no telling what she was doing so far out our way. There's no other cell for at least a mile, as we've expanded our scavenging radius about that far and not seen a living soul. Maybe she was running reconnaissance, or scavenging at a foolhardy distance form her home. At the moment though, she was trying to protect herself from five, fresh looking zeds. Her weapon of choice: a rusty machete. I loaded my rifle and tried to get a line of shot, as Ian, being our strategical mastermind in battle, clicked on his radio and called down to the others, telling them to gear up and start heading out the back and over to the woman.
I caught the first Zed, the one closest to her, in the right temple. It crumpled, and so did she. Rookie mistake, and one that should never be made around zeds. With gunfire, always keep running. These days, it's better to die. As we've seen again and again, there's nothing worse than dying at the hands of a zed.
Ian finished up radioing instructions, and grabbed his rifle. I snagged another zed in the eye, just as Ian effectively lobotomized a third. They both slumped, and again, so did she. Once from fright is one thing, but this woman seemed to have a death wish. I signaled to Ian to stop firing, and told him she had done the same thing after the first shot. We'd dropped the zeds from five to two. Hopefully she could stay alive long enough for us to get to her.
Time for my turn on the bike-turned-generator. Back with the rest later.
- B
I grabbed my rifle out of the rack I built for it and ran to the back stairs, heading for the roof. Ian was at the back door undoing the bolts as I got there, and we both ran up to the roof to see what was happening.
I should probably explain a little bit about our set-up here. We live in a second floor apartment in the Brighton neighborhood of Boston, and when things went to shit, we decided it was best to hole up here instead of joining the panicking masses making a run for it. The first floor is pretty indefensible with the giant glass front door. We opted to take out the front stairs down to the first floor instead. We've managed to secure the back doors to the downstairs apartments (thank God they have steel frames). We've also secured the basement so we could have a workshop and a way to get out of the building. The only doors to the basement are metal security doors, and lead to the parking lot out back.
Two sides of the parking lot have 5 foot concrete walls and another 6 feet of fencing on top of that. The third side is bounded by our buildings. To close off what used to be the driveway, we scavenged some sturdy gates to fasten at the bottom of the hill. They're designed to move so we can get vehicles in and out, but are sturdy enough to keep out the zeds long enough for us to pick them off. We've also cleared and secured all the buildings on the block to make sure nothing can get in to the lot that way. A little perimeter alarm around the whole deal has saved our ass a few times, though we fight hard not to let ourselves rely on it too much.
Our base of operations is on the second and third floors of our original building, as we're trying to keep our footprint small. We have room to grow, but not the supplies or means yet. Hopefully some day soon we'll be able to take in more survivors and more effectively try to reclaim our city. Hopefully some survivors will stay alive until they can make it to us, unlike most of the folk that come this way.
For now, though, it's just 5 of us. Myself and Ian who were living here, have taken over leadership and planning, as we both seem to excel at it. We're also blessed with our friend Alec and Ian's girlfriend Crista, who happened to be over when hell came to us, and our friend Brian, who we found fighting for his life on one of our supply runs.
Anyway, it occurs to me I was trying to tell a story. Ian and I scrambled up to the roof to get a look at what was going on. We searched the streets frantically for the woman, and Ian eventually spotted her not far off to the west. Unfortunately that's the worst way to approach here. There are tons of alleys for zeds to pop out of, and there's some light tree cover between us and where the poor woman was, which makes for somewhat crappy sniping.
The woman seemed far too healthy to be a nomad, so she must have come from some survivor cell somewhere. There's no telling what she was doing so far out our way. There's no other cell for at least a mile, as we've expanded our scavenging radius about that far and not seen a living soul. Maybe she was running reconnaissance, or scavenging at a foolhardy distance form her home. At the moment though, she was trying to protect herself from five, fresh looking zeds. Her weapon of choice: a rusty machete. I loaded my rifle and tried to get a line of shot, as Ian, being our strategical mastermind in battle, clicked on his radio and called down to the others, telling them to gear up and start heading out the back and over to the woman.
I caught the first Zed, the one closest to her, in the right temple. It crumpled, and so did she. Rookie mistake, and one that should never be made around zeds. With gunfire, always keep running. These days, it's better to die. As we've seen again and again, there's nothing worse than dying at the hands of a zed.
Ian finished up radioing instructions, and grabbed his rifle. I snagged another zed in the eye, just as Ian effectively lobotomized a third. They both slumped, and again, so did she. Once from fright is one thing, but this woman seemed to have a death wish. I signaled to Ian to stop firing, and told him she had done the same thing after the first shot. We'd dropped the zeds from five to two. Hopefully she could stay alive long enough for us to get to her.
Time for my turn on the bike-turned-generator. Back with the rest later.
- B
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
