Zombie Dodge Ball

The Commander has been working on our map system (seen in photo) and working to add more pill boxes (look out towers that are defensible positions) along the perimeter.  We heard that New Portland was attacked but it appears to be a badly strung together mob desperate for food and not the civil war brutality rumored on Ruffle Net. 

My own work has been simple: RUN. 

The weather most days have been fair with about 45 degrees our average temperature.  Some days it's windy.  When it rains it generally lets up for an hour or two, which I believe, is dictated by the tides.  The tides have a lot to do with the wind and cloud activity this close to the ocean. 

I run out to the Quarantine zone but generally stay off the sand dunes.  Okay it's silly I just don't like sand in my shoes and I see the ocean plenty (and last time I was stuck between wild dogs and zombs).

I cut off all my hair.  It was coming in grey and there is no more hair dye.  It's a salt/pepper mix and not bad looking - except I still look rather young in the face because of my large eyes so it's a strange look I suppose all in all.  It's a snap after a shower and if I have to go back out on a run it dries quickly and I don't freeze off my rumpus.

Oddly enough the ladies at the camp kinda sniffed and said, "My husband would never let me cut my hair."  None of them are grey either, even people older than me.  I just hit it early I guess.  The Commander said it looked cute.  He didn't seem to mind the grey. 

He has been later and later to bed and our tv watching is sometimes curtailed for days.  He's worried.  General Grant is thinking of leaving altogether along with many runners and going to Portland.  That will leave the Commander almost back to square one again.  With people gone how will we defend Fort Stevens?  How will we have enough people to plant and produce everything our fort needs?  Will we all end up leaving?  And there is the cruxt.

The Commander is thinking about leaving. 

All the stress day after day and thankless tasks - but he has friends in Seattle and he could be a part of a real militia that is organized with trained soldiers and has fortifications that aren't all made of tin and scrap pieces of old junk.  Seattle he tells me is quite well put together.  If he goes he wants me to come too.

I don't know.

Fort Stevens is my home.  Where would I even run in a place like Seattle?  They probably have motor bikes and that sort of thing....I wonder if it snows there....it never ever snows here. 

Goodnight Fort - Runner 5

The Rain Comes Down

It was 4:30am -- "Commander, are you awake?"  I whispered.  He growled in response.  "I don't feel good" I, Runner 5, whispered.  He wearily blinked open his eyes and looked over and scratched his beard. 

"Anxiety again 5?" He whispered.   I nodded with worry and panic.  "Dreams back?"  He asked I nodded feeling stupidly vulnerable. 

He grabbed the edge of my cot and pulled it over to his and in one motion scooped me over to his cot and cushioned me under an arm. 

"Deep breaths" he said.  I tried my hardest to breath deeply but my heart was in flight or fight mode and I felt like I was dying. 

"Deep breaths"  he said again, himself almost nodding off.  I nestled my head in the crook of his shoulder and he took my hand in his. 

"Think of something funny"  he said.  Like last week at the lunch line when we ran out right as it was Edwards turn and he had dry rations.  Edward was the largest among us and the biggest eater.  I giggle softly.

"That's better" he said, "you have training in the morning you need some sleep."  He said.

"I can't sleep" I stated, I "I just can't."  

But he did retty soon and patted my hair on and off although I think it was in his sleep until morning revelry sounded and it was time to get up.

"Five it was just that run, it did you in, messed with your head.  You'll be better."

"I don't knowCommander, it has been five days now and I'm still having problems"

"You need to be running again.  You've had too much time off.  Not good for someone like you."

"Commander," I said in a little voice as he geared up for the day.  "I never said anything but I'm bipolar and I have a severe anxiety disorder.  It comes and goes and in the winter I get really sick sometimes.  Not always.  Sometimes I do well for years -- but inevitably."

"I know 5.  It's okay.  Everyone's got something."   There it was my worst darkest secret I was afraid he would find out.  "What can I do to help?" He said.  I never had anyone ask me if they could help before.  I expected everyone to be scared of me or think I was a freak.

"I just need some meds - but it won't stop 'this' you know - but it might help it from getting worse.  They're not a cure, it's just management.  I wish they helped more, but they don't."  He nodded.

"Get on that then 5, and I know you're tired, you never did sleep did you?  But go train.  Give me a solid hour putting in miles in the gym today.  Give your anxiety a place to go, got it?"  I nodded getting up.

I got up and before he left he pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead and I knew I would love him forever.  

Battle to the Pacific 10k Run Nov. 2nd 2013

Lyman Mishler bunker - pictured above, runs far underground, nestling a catacomb of old offices under the hill.  The electricity to it has been out and there are stalagmites growing from the floor but the Commander is working on it as a point of retreat, large enough for everyone to get into if we're attacked or over run by zombies.

There are tunnels that snake out from Mishler - only large enough for a single person at a time to crawl through but it allows for routes of entry to bring in supplies.

The problem is - how to get enough supplies into Mishler and the electricity going again?  Both Grant and the Commander are busy working on the details with a team they've put together.  So - I haven't seen the Commander since my run and since we returned from the trail with a very happy Dr. Jividen.

The Run

I wasn't sure how many runners were running.  Many were from Grant's outfit and are very fit looking although it turned out in practice they didn't know quite enough about running so unfortunately we lost two people but I didn't know them.  I know it's bad, but it's hard to mourn people you don't know in these times.

Dr. Jividen returned with an ensnared elk that has a deviation of its teeth making them rather nasty, long, yellow and brutal - and it now craves meat.  She's so excited, she named him Lucifer.  She's testing him for Mortis or to see if it's yet another sub-strain of the zombie plague.  What will we feed it? I kept asking and I was told politely to shut up - let the grownups work.

It was really windy, up to 25mph gust and we started at Coffenbury lake on the trail, ran up to I think Delura Beach Dune Trail - over to South Jetty - Down to the bridge and back over making a loop of six miles.  I started in the rear on purpose.  There were a lot of jittery runners and I knew they would break off at top speed.  That wasn't me.  I held back and I started with my slowest pace, a warmup pace.  No use burning up all my fuel the first mile.  I was still running that mile when I started passing the other runners - walking, limping along - already.  Lactic acid build up is a bitch. So I ran most of the distance at the same pace only walking a bit over the bridge.

The zombies were out but a little subdued.  I was surprised.  Midpoint on the run I looked around and there was no one in front of me and no one behind me.  The thicket around the trail is thick and zombies can emerge unexpectedly so I kept moving and didn't let my guard down.  Soon the run was over and I was pleasantly surprised to be alive.

I guess a swarm had attacked at the back of the pack and taken out a couple of walkers before the snipers were able to contain the zombs.

There was a truck full of gear and samples that Dr. Jividen collected, and of course the two bodies.  She was unperturbed and called it a huge success.    I didn't get to see what all she collected, from who or how since I was running but it sounded encouraging.  She's working with New Portland and making progress.

Well readers - I hear the Commander.  I think he is finally home.  I'm just resting in my bunk today since its my day off.

Don't Be Nervous

I've been training for this run, a test of Dr. Jividen's Mortis theory - that it slows down zombies.  They're going to dart them (raided a Vet supply shop that darted local elk awhile back) and see what happens.  I'm the bait.

I'm running a six mile loop as fast as I can, but not so fast that I have to walk or run out of fuel because if I walk I'm dead.  They'll come from the trees and behind and even in front of me and I have to out run them. 

Dr. Jividen who loves weapons is setting up a blind up in a tree where she plans to sleep overnight.  She also has some nets to deploy to catch "fresh specimens" and a whole host of tests she's setup.  She has about a dozen people along the trail in trees with either darting equipment and guns making it "safer". 

The Commander who was going to run with me injured his knee.  He won't even be at the starting post.  For some reason having him there was giving me a lot of courage and reinforcement that everything would work out alright. 

He just says, "you've got this, you do this all the time - just do what you usually do." 

I typically don't have the panic button in my head going off at full - what if I hyperventilate and can't breathe to run?  The first mile will be the hardest - the first mile my brain always thinks its in charge but after it finally realizes I'm not stopping it shuts up, turns off and I just RUN. 

Whatever happens - my foot, my knees, my calves - I'm ignoring it.  I just have to run and keep running and find whatever deep recess of power I might have inside that has been since now untapped.  I've read about runners finding that inner power -- do I even possess such a thing?  I hope so or I'm probably zombie food.  I've worked hard on recovering my feet, stretching my hamstrings - God, will it be enough?

Goodnight Fort Stevens, Goodnight  

11PM TV

Plantar fasciitis - makes your feet feel like they want to break off.  Each step is agonizing and even though I rest when I walk or run again it's just as bad as ever.  *sigh* I hobble along when no one is watching.

Dr. Jividen and the Commander have a loop for me to run but I can't read the map correctly and they keep saying my samples are from the wrong locations so I have to go re-run my mission.

I run the paths everyday and if they tell me, "North of Swash Lake" -- I know that and can follow it.  Or if I could draw my own map of how I see the trails in my head and how the directions 'feel' to me...I could follow that map just fine.  But their map makes no sense at all to me and today I failed to ever locate the drop from Fort Rilea.

The Commander is going with me in three days time to run the course and get it worked out in my head but I'm worried he's lost faith in me. Worse, he's fast as a runner.  He's over six foot tall so I'll have to put on some speed and speed work is what absolutely KILLS MY FEET.  OUCH!! 

My results came back from New Portland and my kidney Creatinine level was a 1.1 which was a drop from the 1.2 and 1.3 it generally stays at.  So although I'll still have to urinate every five minutes and dehydration is still an issue as well as fluid retention, I'm okay.

I have colitis again.  A genetic foible like my kidneys.  I can't digest fructose and we have a lot of dried meal packets.  Some must have dried fruit or tomatos or citric acid.  I don't know where the offending food is coming from yet.  It's hard to run when your abdomen is in a lot of pain.  Ironically it also makes me hungry.  I guess it's from not digesting food too well.  I've been having a marathon

of hot chamomile tea.  I also secured me some aloe and L-Glutamine so as long as I can figure out which food is causing the inflammation, I can cure it. 

When the Commander comes in around eleven pm he ceases being the Commander.  He peels off his shirt and dons a housecoat and we watch funny cartoons on the laptop.  This week he has us watching, "China IL" a Brad Neely cartoon.

During the day he's like a different person.  Him and Grant have a committee put together.  They say if we're going to get attacked it will be before winter sets in.  No one wants to have to deal with the rain.  It has been unseasonably clear lately.

Dr. Jividen says that regular zombies can be reinfected with Mortis slowing them down and eliminating their blood lust.  She says we could use Mortis infected ...individuals....as bait for our local zombie population.  The Commander thought the idea was morbid even if possibly effective.

Grant's forces have taken on downtown Hammond and the South Jetty Inn quickly building fence that gives them a kind of 'chute' to Ft. Stevens, a quick retreat path.

Meanwhile I pointed out to the Commander that there is a lot of underground structures at Fort Stevens that we haven't explored.  Tunnels?  He didn't really reply to me, only vaguely acknowledged my observation.  That happens a lot.  I don't take offense to it anymore. 

I usually sleep until he comes in at 11 then I get up for an hour and watch tv with him.  I make hot tea from a little coffee pot he brought in.  He doesn't drink coffee or tea so I guess it was just for me.  He never said, he just set it up one morning.  So far he hasn't invited any of the new runners or people to bunk in our house.  I prefer it that way, people are so annoying.

I hope for a better run tomorrow.  I need to stretch.  I need to make some arch supports I guess.  I need to figure out my colitis.  Feeling overwhelmed today. 

Ominous

I sat on top of a burnt out school bus that had been dragged under the trees to rust and rot.  It was my place to meditate.

Today the Commander ran with me and he is getting better.  He's 6'2" and has a long stride so I get to go faster which today was fun.  The air was crisp and cool but not windy.  The sun was out tanning my face even darker while burning the Commanders head and arms.

I needed the time on top of the school bus because of a certain confusion growing in me over the Commander.  It was just a thing now that sooner or later at night we would end up holding each others hands and he had gone out on more runs together.  Sometimes we were alone in the bunk together making jokes and he seemed more human and vulnerable then.  We liked many of the same things and always seemed to agree.

I was imagining things - I thought to myself.  No way the commander of the entire base would fall for a puny runner.

I was still awaiting my test results from New Portland but my kidneys seemed to be doing much better.  I noted that my diet had very little sugar in it and they had begun to get better.

Every time I was around the Commander I felt funny, self conscious and odd.  I sighed.  Sometimes it was like a tickle at the back of my mind, something I should remember or dots I should have already connected.

War was coming kinda like winter -- on a day like today neither seemed likely.

Several deer wandered up under the bus browsing at the stickery berry bushes.  I didn't want to scare them.  I sat quietly legs crossed.

The last words I had with the Commander he asked if I would be available for a run tomorrow as well.
I didn't know what to make of it so decided to put it out of my mind - there was no way someone in such a high place would fall for someone like me.  He was always so busy, there had to be another explanation...

Poor Commander - it had been a brutally hard week and people had died and people had been saved and costly decisions had to be made and there was no one but him and occasionally the effervescent Grant to take it all on.  He was a solid cold stone so much of the time, but occasionally his humanity peaked out as we watched funny vids on my old laptop or when he reached for my hand in the middle of the night then he transformed and I knew it was a transformation that he only allowed me to see.  Maybe such trust made me nervous.  He was, I mused, about the most dangerous friend I could possibly have - yet also the most interesting.

A Death In The Smoke

I was out in a slow loping jog that carries me along with no worries or thoughts and I was about three miles away from camp doing some surveillance of the houses around our perimeter when I thought I was running into fog but instead the air filled with smoke.  It was fragrant from a hard wood source I could tell, possibly a hold out resident trying to get the chill out of their dwelling.  With heavy air pressure and high humidity the smoke rolled around the ground spreading out slowly like a fog.  It had saturated the area.

I couldn't breathe the damn stuff and my eyes started to water.  Visibility was going down the further I went forward, and it was the right conditions for the Zombies to get more interested in the hunt.  From my flank I heard a familiar gurgle of a zombie and possibly ahead.  It was hard to tell. 

I abruptly stopped, there was a wrecked bicycle and more noises just ahead.  My heart sunk, I picked up the bike and hopped on riding the same direction I had come as quickly as I could.  Whoever had owned the bike must have happened into the same trap and had become entangled with zombs.  It must have been one of our South Jetty Inn residents under General Grant, but which one?

I road the bike back to South Jetty Inn and returned it with as short of an explanation as I could because I'm not good with grief or comforting people.  I loped off at a steady fast jog back toward the Fort with my next mission, informing the Commander of the bicyclers death.  He would know who she was and tonight in the camp there would be a lot of hushed conversations, some tears, some fanatical terror and alcohol consumption.

I would hide in my bunk, play with my pink bouncy ball and curse the stupidity of humanity that had lit that fire. 

1000 Calories Down Today

Dr. Crow said today that if I finished my physical therapy for my ankle that we could play "CLUE Advanced Dungeons and Dragons." 

I swam, did the elliptical and took on a small run today.  The better diet is helping and I've put on more lean muscle.  The tendonitis is in both ankles but especially my right and is leading to other difficulties in my feet. 

Tonight I'm going to go wrap my ankle up in a heating roll and play a game.  

Goodnight Fort Stevens!  Goodnight! 

Grocery Shopping Day

Fred Meyers, Warrenton Oregon 10-13-13

Letters get passed along through the camp.  I have two I need to read.  One from a grandpa, and one from a cousin.  We don't know the letter writers and they're probably deceased but it's a way in which we still get mail.  A few people write back and those get sent out through the zip line the post apocalyptic USPS to destinations like New Portland and from there sent on again. 

My letter today has a photo of a thin blond woman and a man considerably shorter than her with his arms wrapped around her waist. 

You may have guessed that if I'm looking at letters I have the day off in my bunk and am trying to stay off of two very sore ankles.  Dr. Crow says I have tendonitis and something I can't pronounce that sounds like plantar fascititis.  In other words my feet feel like they're going to break off at the ankle with every step I take.

Dr. Jividen has setup a laboratory and has been spending a lot of time with Grant working on some logistics of getting information quickly to New Portland and having the help she needs on hand to process samples as well as people reporting in when they see possible Mortis infected people and animals and a bicycler dispatched to quickly check out the report.  Grant being a smooth talking people person has facilitated the arrangements as best as one could possibly hope to manage in this place. 

The Commander on the other hand - well, he lost his composure and the remnants of the Tourists have seized the opportunity to, "make their voices heard".  Just yesterday they wanted to recommission some of the forts many canons to help defend us during attack.  The canons do still work, they were always maintained --- BUT --- Fort Stevens and it's canons face out to sea so they could shoot at ships.  They're not meant to mow down people and the noise it would create.  *Cringe* 

The Commander has a hundred extra people to feed as more refugees have come in to seek shelter through the winter.  The elk in the park which he had planned on culling to help feed them may or may not be carriers of a deadly virus that causes a non-hostile form of the zombie virus.  A slow acting virus that is difficult to detect.  How the virus is transmitted and its animal hosts are unknown but it has been found in our Runner 8 whose dog was first infected and then himself despite the fact he appeared to be unbitten.  Then an elk was found with the virus and a whole host of people.  Dr. Jividen said the spread is faster than she expected.

So the Commander with shortening food stores, hostile people in his ranks has also been working on

Most Cans Were Missing Labels

widening the camp and adding residential areas adjacent to the main Fort.  Much wire and fortifications have been obtained for this reason and his right hand man "General" Grant has been working on a bold plan to expand and fortify the encampment, but the plan was to be done in phases over several years.  Dr. Jividen and myself arrived with a secret document on Mortis (which she will not disclose any details about) and news from our former runner Hero 13 that civil war had broken out.  With limited radio communications we have no idea of how much of an immanent threat is posed to the Fort.  With so much calamity driving down on our Commander he has been reserved at all times, not eating, not sleeping -- just in the Comms room or doing what he can around the camp. 

Yesterday I went on a mission with five other "Runners" (albeit all but two were on bicycles) to what was left of the Fred Meyers grocery store.  It was pretty well ransacked as you can imagine.  The smell of stuff that had rotted was only mildly mitigated by time.  We were looking for canned goods.  Those that were left were mostly missing the labels.  The bicyclers had saddle bags to pack in the canned goods.  I had a noise maker so encase zombies arrived, and we figured the would, I would lead them a merry chase (if they didn't flank me and eat me.)

As it was a bakers dozen of zombs did arrive about midway through packing up the cans.  I had found an old bottle of Coke and drank it so had some caffeine and sugar in me:  good to go. 

The problem I had with the zombs was when I got back to the Fort, the small side gate I typically run through and which is covered by one of our soldiers was locked.  So, I frantically had to run to the main gate and it was locked.  Exasperated and now almost pinned in (since the main gate is set between two thick areas of trees) I had to run up to the Marina, where I picked up more Zombs and climb up and through the hole in the fence to get inside Fort Stevens. 

As far as I know the bicycle people didn't have trouble but I think they had the radio head set with them and they opened the main gates, but luckily I had lead the zombies away because all our military personnel are gone.  Dr. Crow and Dr. Jividen are still about and a few other familiar faces but many of the Tourists and our 25 Coast Guard citizens are missing. 

The Commander bunks in my room and he finally fell asleep but he looks like hell.  He was having a nightmare.  I reached over from my cot and caught his hand in mine.  He looped his fingers through mine and held my hand tightly then rested easier.  When I woke in the morning he was gone again. 

The weather has been nice - so there is that.  Rain in the mornings generally, but the sun comes out which allows me to run missions.  Soon I'll be a rain runner, and everything will be more complicated. 

99 Problems

Hero 13

We had a transport drop us off at the Lewis and Clark State Park in Clatsop County Oregon.  I was with Dr. Jividen and today we were seeing how far Mortis, a strain of the zombie virus, had spread into the wilderness.  There were about ten miles of trails, one all the way down to the ocean from this point just past Warrenton.  With so many turned to zombies the area was far more wilderness now then it had been previously.  The zombs seemed to prefer areas in the city where human flesh was more plentiful, but we were still weary of the very quiet surroundings. 

 We had to get back to a special meeting the Commander had called but Jividen insisted we work and go out everyday and make the most of each and every opportunity.  We were hanging out at Netul landing, and it didn't make sense to me because we were more or less in the open and we weren't doing anything.  A lonely raven showed up and squawked at us.  I saw a dead mouse being eaten by a slug, that was pretty gross, but we did nothing but wait.

Forest at Fort Clatsop

Eventually I saw a runner in the distance.  Long powerful strides closed the distance easily and with grace.  He was pretty much naked I noticed, except for mud covering his skin. I recognized him, it was Hero 13, my old bunk mate from Fort Stevens.  He carried an old Coke bottle with a rolled message inside.  He ran up to Jividen and stopped handing her the bottle.  He nodded to me and clapped me on the back as he caught his breath. 

Jividen took her time reading the paper which was yellow and looked as if it had been produced on an old IBM electric typewriter.

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly.  She was very focused.

"A recipe" She replied, "for making the Mortis virus more or less anyway, and also for how it's going to be used as a weapon." 


"That's the meeting at Fort Stevens today," said Hero, "Fort Rilea was invited but we declined, you need to know war has broken out.  Alliances are forming and some say that someone attacked Canon Beach colony with Mortis and turned them all in their sleep, that it is now completely a grey colony." 

"Just think all those colonist going about their day to day business and none of them even know they're dead.  Even the animals..."  

"I'm not even supposed to be here," he continued, "Rilea has not allied itself with Fort Stevens or anyone else.  We have enough weapons to remain autonomous for a long while and fortified.  But I had to warn you."  Hero looked at Dr. Jividen.

"Someone is going to come and try to kill you.  I just heard part of it, so I don't know how, and I don't know when but I do know that you're the target.  You need to get out of here.  Like New Portland or someplace large and safe."  Hero looked at us desperately.  "The message isn't from Rilea, it was passed off to me and passed on to that runner.  It came from as far away as Tilamook, maybe even further.  It was meant to go to New Portland, but I knew you were here which is why I contacted you."  I raised an eyebrow, so it was no coincidence we were hanging out at Netul Landing. 

Jividen looked to the sky a helicopter was over head.  Time to go.  

Running Sprints With The Commander

It had been raining on and off all day and there was a camp meeting at five so I was in the bunk playing with the bouncy ball against the wall.  The Commander came in.

"Would you like to go for a run?"  He asked casually.  I had noted that the Commander had come by a pair of track shoes in the last few days and some really pathetic old blue sweat pants. 

"Sure" I replied.

So his run was more sprinting his heart out and then a walking pant.  I explained to him how his Oxygen would get better the more he ran and that he was using 'fast twitch' muscles to sprint but that 'low twitch' muscles were what would get him miles down the road and away from zombs.

He was a fast sprinter so it was a good workout for me, I don't sprint unless I have to because it burns up my energy stores. 

It was a good day until the meeting.  At the meeting all hell broke loose. 

The Seizure

Official Camp Feline - Matilda

Angel was the nurse on call.  Damn. 
"Hello Starbuck" she said snidely.  Starbuck was my new nickname from the troupe that came in with General Grant on bikes.   It was part compliment, that I reminded them of an action hero from Battlestar and part insult because she wasn't very feminine.  Angel used it as an insult.  She hated Sci-Fi, anyone that shallow did.  I stooped by her trash can and vomited into it.  I sat down heavily swaying.

"Been drinking?"  She said in a scolding manner.  If had hadn't been so sick I could have thought of all the ways I hated pretty prissy girls like Angel. 

"I've had a seizure"  I said.  "I don't remember coming here.  I need to go back home."  In my mind at that time home was my house on Russell street - not the bunker. 

"Now Starbuck, what makes you think you had a seizure?" Angel said in a snide manner.  I was stumped.  I mean I didn't exactly recall it and I couldn't put into words at that moment.  I vomited again. 

"I just have these sometimes" I muttered wiping my mouth on my sleeve.  "Where am I?"  I was briefly lost, nothing looked familiar. 

"So how do you feel during the so called seizure? Because I want you to know I'm pretty much an expert on them and I can tell YOU did not have a seizure."  Beautiful.  I don't know how long I sat there, I watched the shadows on the wall getting ever more dehydrated and then thankfully the Commander came in. 

"What's wrong with Runner 5?"  He asked sharply. 

"I think she said she had a bit too much to drink" Angel said with a bit of a musical trill and swaying her hips and flipping her hair.  Yup it was nice and glossy.  She actually giggled.

I looked up into the Commander's eyes, "Sir, I've had a seizure, I'm really thirsty, can you help me back to my bunk?"  He nodded and helped me out into the open and across the green to our bunk.

The thing was I had a run that day and Angel had cost me recovery time by wasting it telling me how I wasn't really a seizure type person.   I guess she had seen a show on tv or knew someone once and thought that all seizures were alike.  Next she could tell me how my kidneys were great. 

Dragged back to the bunk the Commander got me some water.  I drank 24oz then another 24.  Dr. Jividen was there and took a look at my pupils.

"She'll be okay" she announced, "but usually rest is required....hey....why is she drinking so much?"  Jividen asked the Commander.  He sat down close beside me.

"She has a kidney problem" he commented, "that's why she was in New Portland, they were taking some tests."

"Well, she can't eat this hard tack Commander, it's all protein laced with vitamins and fiber.  It's going to be very hard on her kidneys and as a runner she needs some carbohydrate."  He looked genuinely shocked.

"Is that what caused the seizure?"  He asked.  Jividen shrugged, "I don't know, my specialty is with the dead."

"Sorry Commander" I said, "I just didn't think.  Heavy protein taxes my kidneys but I don't know much about it.  I was diagnosed close to the time of the outbreak."  He looked grave.  I thought he was going to retire me as runner right then and there and possibly that is what he was thinking.

"Okay,"  he said, "we'll see about providing you with some apples at least.  Can you be around to run this afternoon?"  I nodded.

I felt really sore about being sick in front of Angel who probably had told the whole camp about me drinking and getting all sick in the infirmary.   There wasn't anything I could do.  I felt terrible and worse I had delayed the mission by hours.

The side gates and perimeter was on lock down right as me and Dr. Jividen were leaving.  We had to cut through the cemetery woods and the woods along the road during October spider season.  I was not happy.  I rather see a crawler than a spider. 

We did find one lone elk on the trail in front of us.  Dr. Jividen darted it and brought it down so we could take samples.  Darting it wasn't as fun and as easy as I thought it would be, the poor thing thrashed down to the bridge that spanned the creek that fed Swash Lake and would have drowned had the tied been in.  But we wrangled it around to take blood and samples.  Dr. Jividen scraped at its hooves even.  She looked inside of its mouth and opened its eyes and inspected every part of the animal - every part.  Gross.  By then it was around 5:30pm -- too close to sundown to stay out anymore and we had to cut back through the woods to the main gates. 

Dr. Jividen was humming to herself she was so happy.  Her happiness made carrying back all the samples not so bad. 

When I got back there was an apple on my bed and under it was a note, "No one listens to Angel she's a flaky bitch.  Everyone is team Starbuck," and it was unsigned on my cot.  I didn't recognize the handwriting.  Was anyone for Runner 5?  I always felt so alone, especially when I was sick, then I felt both alone and useless. 

Dr. Jividen Goes Postal

Our truck came to a halt and we were ousted out of our comfortable positions from the back toward a Mercedes Bens truck monstrosity reading, "GERMANY" on the front and back and a hippy bumper sticker that read, "You can only go East - I can go anywhere!"  What does that mean?  I don't know.  A couple of bikes were pegged onto the back.  It looked like a petrol hog, but no worry because it wasn't for us.  The bikes were for Dr.Jividen and I to get back to Fort Stevens with...  So much for first class survivable transportation...and that teasing sticker that said, "anywhere".

As we left the Nazi-mobile behind peddling furiously on bikes more suited to children I was at least thankful that it was a clear blue day and so far no rain clouds on the horizon. 

Dr. Jividen had her knives strapped across her back and looked completely relaxed as usual.  I peddled awkwardly my gear on one side of the bike throwing my balance off, carefully I was guarding the eggs I had brought from New  Portland.  If they broke before I had a chance to eat one...tragedy.

I wasn't one for small talk so we quietly peddled, I tried to keep up.  Dr. Jividen made effortless time.  I wondered if my tires were fully aired up. She was making me work hard to keep up.  I kept my eyes peeled for zombs.  The weather was so nice that we had a good chance of making it without a single shambler depending on the terrain. 

We crossed the Skipanon River via the bridge and there were at least twenty zombies underneath it but it's a steep crawl up the slope and a warm sunny day so we traversed it quickly and without fear of attack.

We were almost through town proper when we were ambushed.

Humans.  Survivors.  They had holed up at the Rescue.  They weren't reputable prior apocalypse and refused to join any encampment for a wide assortment of paranoid reasons.  There were three men, armed with baseball bat, tire iron and an axe.  They had a barricade across the road of old tin and torn up debris.

"This here is a toll road"  one drawled drunkenly.

Jividen looked at me meaningfully.  "You better cover your ears" she said.  Then she pulled out a gun.  It was um....BIG and heavy.

"You're carrying a glock?" I asked.  She snorted in response.  Okay I don't know much about guns.

She then effortlessly took aim and shot the first man who had spoken and was wielding an axe in the leg.  It was loud.  It would draw zombies.  But then she aimed for the second guy with the tire iron.

"YOU'RE FUCKING CRAZY"  one of them shouted as they scrambled to get away.  She shot him in the arm.  She smiled at the third guy he started to run but she said very clearly...

"Don't move."  Dr. Jividen cocked the gun.  "I hurt them, I'll kill you.  I'm a good shot. You're going to clear the path through that barricade before every zombie in a three mile radius descends upon us.  Got me?"  He nodded and started clearing the rubble.  "FASTER"  she yelled at him and waved the gun in a dangerous looking manner.  Watching her on her school girl bike with her pretty curls, wave a gun was surreal to say the least.  He made a path for us to ride through single file.  By then the zombs were coming in every direction.  The gun shots had drawn them right to us.  We road fast and hard away but for the people at the Rescue -- I have no idea if they escaped what had to be the mother of all zombie attacks.

We peddled for what felt like an hour, "I hate guns.  Prefer knives."  She commented once again stoic and unemotional.

"You shot those two men back there" I mentioned still in total shock.  I was trembling and trying to hide it.  "I really thought we were done for, you  know, being women and all in this day and age and out in the open.  It was a tough spot."

"I guess" she said.  "Do you have some 9mm rounds back at Fort Stevens? I hate to waste ammunition."

"Yeah I think so,  we don't use too many guns honestly."  I said feeling sheepish and less confident in my survival skills by the moment.

"Good" she said.

"You're going with me to harvest organ tissue and samples from both animals and zombs.  We're going to have to make sure you have a sustainable survival pack that includes a weapon."  She said conversationally.  "Your Commander will teach you a few things I'm sure.  We were going with this fellow .... Hero 13 I think he was called.  That was good.  A tall fellow can really take off the head of a zombie.  But you'll have to do Runner 5."

When I got back I unpacked and gave the Commander his packages, it contained some old game cartridges including, "Earthbound" which made him almost giddy.   The Commander was working on setting up an arcade and game recreational room for the members of the Fort and piecing it together one bit at a time.

I found out that my bunkies now included Dr. Jividen and Dr. Crow.  The doctors didn't get along arguing over medical ideas I had never heard of so I tuned them out.

Morning:

I woke up and smelled something delicious.  Delicious and missing.  Dear readers - they fucking ate my eggs!  Okay, so they left me one tiny hen egg but after protecting them all the way from New Portland, riding a bike 18 miles without one crack - THEY ATE THEM.

I was furious.

I yelled at them until they started laughing at me and the Commander promised me that soon my chickens would start to lay.  "So who took care of Henny Penny while I was gone?"  I demanded.  Everyone looked around the room.  No one had bothered to let my girls out of their coup.  I went and took care of them, thankfully they were okay.  The smallest hen I hadn't named yet had laid an egg about the size of a modest marble. 

 Until Monday Readers have a good weekend -------------------------------------------------------------

Below is a video one of my friends made for Zombies Run! Also I have a 5K tomorrow!  I'll try to have a photo of me at the race taken so I can post :-)

Getting ready for Halloween - I'm going as Runner 5

New Portland, Leaving With Dr. Jividen

Dr. Jividen

Daniel knew Dr. Jividen.  He took me through the hospital maze while carrying my eggs protectively.  I had two for breakfast and they tasted as if seasoned by butter - absolutely perfect.  The migraine was gone and I was in reasonably good spirits.  Even the weather had cleared and the sun was poking out warming the city up.

"You're really going to like Dr.Jividen"  Daniel said as his long legs quickly negotiating the maze.  "Well this is where I go and leave you two to secret settlement business."  He gave me a big hug and handed me the egg basket. 

I knocked on the door.  I knocked again and waited.  I knocked and impatiently paced back and forth.  The hall was deserted, the place smelled like bleach.  It was so desolate.  Daniel was long gone and I was lost.  I had no further orders after, 'find Jividen' -- Finally I just opened the door. 

"Yup just packing" she said when I stepped inside.  She didn't turn to look at me.  On a long broad aluminum table, the kind used in morgues, was a black nylon cloth outfitted to carry knives.  A pretty brunette in a white lab coat, with long spiral curls of hair going down her back, was pulling knives out of a target at the end of the lab and returning them to her carrier.  The target was placed between a rack of elk horns.  Jars and samples were neatly labelled and arranged in the lab I noticed and nothing too unusual was out of place besides the bizarre 'knife range' Dr. Jividen had erected in her lab.

"The other equipment I sent on ahead" she explained. "I don't let anyone else carry these."  She rolled up her knives into a bundle and secured it by tying it shut.

Her face was expressionless and unperturbed in any way.  There was no fake smile and gracious remarks that so many women greet each other with.  Daniel was right, I would like Jividen - possibly.  She wasn't a phoney.

"Ever gone zombie hunting 5?"  She asked and I wasn't sure if she was serious or joking.

"No" I said finally, "usually they're hunting me."  She laughed.  It was disconcerting - was that funny?
"Yes, well, we'll need to hunt down a few zombies while I'm at Fort Stevens.  I just need a runner though.  I can handle the on sight dissection as long as I'm undisturbed.  For some reason Stevens just didn't send the samples directly.  Very odd how squeamish some people are in this day and age." 

"And five"  she said throwing in a few small instruments into her case that all looked sharp, "I've been looking for a few missing bones for the skeleton I'm putting together.  I call him...well, he doesn't have a name yet...but if you know of any good 'well and gone' corpses or bones that maybe the dogs haven't totally chewed through I would appreciate them for my collection, mostly vertebrae I'm short of, okay then shall we go?"

Dr. Jividen and her assortment of knives and bag led the way back down the hall.  We had the VIP treatment home and in the back of the truck I was able to stretch my legs out and dose. Zombie hunting?  What could go wrong.  I awoke with a start.

Outpost - Portland 1 - Providence Hospital Day 1

I'm in the hospital and finally made it through the lab line to sit in their waiting room. 

I had to pee badly.

Across from me is the bathroom - just RIGHT THERE.  SO CLOSE.

But the doctor says they need a urine sample so I wait.  I cross my legs.  I uncross my legs.  I play with my iphone. 

And I wait some more. 

Dear Reader, it's a good time to let you know I have kidney problems, as such I had finished drinking four cups of water in one go just about forty-five minutes prior to me sitting uncomfortably in the waiting room. 

The have to draw blood and take urine at the same time then presto it tells them something important about my kidney function. 

A lady comes to the door -- I am SO HOPEFUL -- but no, she calls this other fellow into the lab room.  It's really pretty crowded.  Can I make it?  I wonder?  I eye the sign on the bathroom door and think about going for it, then a small blue haired lady goes inside of it and locks it behind her.  She doesn't come right back out.  I wonder if she's died in there, maybe gone zomb. 

There is a restroom on first floor...if I ran...maybe...

They call my name for the blood work.  "YATA"!! I want to scream happy. 

From the morning I set out it was cold, about 52 degrees out and raining.  With my time in Outpost Portland I plan to hunt down some REAL rain gear, not the improvised stuff I've made myself.  It will still be far from perfect most likely but I ring out my sleeves of water when I run these days.

What began as a mild headache kept increasing.  "No worries" I thought - with the new diet I didn't have caffeine and I figured it was just that. 

I finished with the doctor at noon and was quite nauseated which meant one thing: migraine.  I guess everyone gets their own type of migraines, they seem one of those unique mysteries of humanity.  With my kidneys and delicate stomach all I could take was crummy old Tylenol and I had to be very careful not to take too much.  I would LOVE some Oxycontin pain killer, which I used to have a prescription of for my headaches once upon a time back when it was available.

There was plenty of food stores in Portland 1, or as they were calling themselves, "New Portland" and they still had a banner up that said, "Keep Portland Weird".  I wasn't hungry though but as I wound my way through the industriously built community I did find coffee vendors.  Leave it to Portland to sell coffee beverages until the end of the world.  Despite my upset stomach, the latte was pretty good and the warmth was welcome.  We definitely needed a coffee hut in Fort Stevens I decided.  Being in New Portland was relaxing and freeing.  No responsibilities and a bit of culture. 

"There you are!  I've been trying to catch up.  I missed you at the hospital!"  I turned around to see a handsome young kid with lanky blond chops and blue eyes.  It was Daniel, one of my old students from the days before everything went to crap.

I gave him a big hug so happy to see him alive and well.  I found out that he was raising chickens and he intended to give me a dozen eggs no matter what I said about it.  I spent the afternoon with him and then his friends and laughed until my sides ached.  It was a good day despite my horrible pain and stomach that kept turning over.  I left early because I needed to lay down before I threw up and returned to the hospital where I had a room reserved.  A note was under the door.

"Please see Doctor Jividen at your earliest convenience.  You are to escort her back to our camp and answer any questions she might have about zombies and our setup.  She is to receive your utmost respect Runner 5." -- The Commander 

Doctor Jividen it turns out would be one of the most interesting people I ever meet, but that's tomorrow...or whenever this migraine wears off. 
----------------------
Authors notes:  Heavy rain drenches the forest and the temperatures are in the low 50's.  The doctor said I needed compression socks for running, that my diet stinks, and I'm waiting on the lab work for my kidneys. I also have to go in for unhappy tests due to a little case of cancer I had three years ago.  I'm supposed to get that done yearly but it's not a fun test and the cancer was benign - maybe. This migraine really is killing me so I don't know if I'll write tomorrow or not, sorry!  I took some photos of the hospital but they vanished from my phone, so I apologize for just one pic today.  Cheers!

Lazy Day

I woke up at 4am and remembered that I was supposed to - I was on elk spotting duty.  I ran in my jams to the boiler room and pulled on my rainslick gear, but, as it turned out, it didn't rain.

The restricted diet meant I had no energy to run today.  I plodded along and dodged elk dung.  Dr. Ian says it will take my body about four days to get used to reduced calories, no sugar, and limited if any caffeine.  Beautiful. 

I saw a little squirrel about six inches tall - at most.  Really tiny guy  nibbling at a toadstool.  Looked like a fairy tale drawing. 

I saw no one around the base today and nothing much happened but tomorrow I really do have to run and make sure I make it to Portland 1 base and get some tests done.  Eerily the Commander has been avoiding me, but it could be my imagination.  Until next time readers... :D

One Wee Chicken - One Normal

"As a nutritionist, I have always believed that the weakest link in indurance performance is in an athlete's nutrition...Proper fueling will make or break the athlete's ability to perform and to stay injury free."  -- Nina Caron Runner, Andover Mass.

"And this is soy, and this is soy, and this is soy.  ALL of this shit is SOY ISOLATE PROTEIN.  ALL OF IT."  There was a box by my bed where I had dumped my MRE's sent in from Portland.  Divided up per day I had about 12oz of food ready to be mixed with water or 800 calories.  Soy is a big problem for an athlete, it blocks the absorption of many minerals and proteins which rebuild muscle which is why Whey protein shakes are preferred over Soy 10:1 -- the 1 being those who don't know any better.  SOY.  Damn it.

I was talking to myself again the Commander and I missing each other due to scheduling.  Sometimes I went and talked to Runner 8 through the fence sometimes and he grunted softly as if listening.  The rain had really deteriorated his condition and his face was failing as if eaten away by the rain drops.

"GOOD NEWS Runner 5!" Grant marched into my bunk house.  I immediately stopped scratching my butt.  "YOU HAVE CHICKENS!"  He waved his arm in a ta'da motion.

I was at a loss for words.  "Two of them" he continued.  "We know that because you run all day your rations will make you far under on your calories everyday -- well actually Rilea told us because they're supplementing their runners and we thought it made sense so -- wallah! Chickens.  You'll have to take care of them and make their coop and find them food and do everything for them but you have exclusive claim on their eggs."

Winter was coming on, we had always butchered chickens before winter on the farm.  Did chickens even lay eggs in the winter I wondered?  I had no idea. 

Long story short is the chickens were um' well one was a little grey game hen.  She was about the size of a pigeon and scared to death of everything.  Her strong protector was a lanky red hen, a Rhode Island red I think, although she was scrawny for a Rhode Island... 

They were disappointing as chickens but I figured they would be okay enough pets if the Coyotes didn't get them first.

Later in the afternoon the Commander wanted me to go gather samples from zombies and animals with Zombie Mortis to take to the labs at Portland 1.  You  might recall he is having me ship out there on the 2nd for blood work and checkup.  Anyway, it was horrible reader.  I had to tell him flat out no and his face grew this burgundy color and he said "okay" and slammed the door on the way out which made a horrible noise since it's metal.  

I'm sitting here with my packets of MRE's.  It's raining outside still.  I leave out at 4:30am in the  morning to pursue the elk herd, count them, see if any are sick, and watch them.  I have my rain gear in the boiler room drying.  Turns out my waterproof hoodie isn't waterproof.  It is pretty however so maybe I can trade it when I get to Portland 1 for something more durable. 

Tomorrow the rationing starts and peoples tempers will get really short and terrible I would imagine.  I'm not looking forward to my diet of Soy. 

A New Disease Vector, Mortis, the Zombie Virus

(photo is from creepy pasta)

The Typhoon storms have been raging but between cloud bursts most of the South Jetty Inn members joined us here inside the various concrete bunkers of the fort so it was during that fortunate circumstance that Dr. Ian Crow joined us.  Turns out he's some sort of chiropractor and not a "real" doctor - but we don't care here at Fort Stevens - a doctor is a doctor.  He knows about diseases and was one of the first to realize there was a secondary strain of the zombie virus. 

Becca, who is a nurse reported back that Runner 8 appeared to be shambling around the parameter instead of walking properly.  He was walking his dog but dear reader, something was very wrong.  The dog had all his teeth showing, as if part of his lip had fallen away.  His tail was brittle and hard with the rigor of death yet still attempted a wag that threatened to break it away from his body entirely.  Where he walked on his paws was mostly exposed bone now with the skin falling away like tanned hide.

As you recall from an earlier post the dog had been bitten by a zombie, briefly quarantined, then returned to Runner 8.

Runner Eight's sure walk was now the slow dragging footsteps of a zombie yet he showed no aggression.  Quite the opposite in fact.  He had walked the perimeter of the fence of Fort Stevens in life everyday from almost sun-up to sun-down and now he did the same in a ghastly routine.

Runner 8 was not as far gone as his dog, but promised to be soon.  Patches of his snow white hair were falling out.  His skin was an ashen blue color.  It appeared he may be missing two or more fingers.  Other zombies completely ignored him, but he occasionally took a slow mistimed ill aimed swipe at them with his base ball bat which he still faithfully carried.  It was a sick parody of the life of Eight and we had no idea if we should try to stop him, bury him, have a funeral?  Dr. Crow said we had bigger problems to worry about.

A corpse of a elk had been recovered at the snow line on Saddle Mountain.  We got the news late but now had some radio communication with Fort Rilea whose technology was much more advanced.  The elk was watching them, its eye rolling around, its mouth trying to move but it couldn't because it had almost completely rotted.  We got the news quite late in fact because no one would believe the report.  The Zombie virus was a plague to wipe out humans - and in fact being a God fearing region the majority of souls believed it was sent on purpose to either teach us a lesson about being obedient servants of God or to kill us all.  It was the apocalypse in other words. 

According to Dr. Ian Crow a new strain of the zombie virus had presented itself, one that could infect animals.  In fact, he amended, there could be twenty strains of the zombie virus at large at this very second that we didn't know about.  This particular strain he called, zombie strain "Mortis" and it was different.  When death occurred was debatable but it kept its host more or less sustained as the vessel rotted away.  Runner 8 had caught the virus from his dog, but had he been bitten?  It seemed unlikely.  Saliva could have infected him or worse, it could be air born.

Part of the Elk Herd At Fort Stevens

The Commander acted quickly because he's one of those, 'connect-the-dots' kinda men.  Between him and Grant they have a helicopter from Portland 1 delivering MRE's to our camp.  MRE's are 'meals ready to eat' and they're dehydrated and otherwise 'just add water' meals that survivalist and military use when food is scarce.  We have plenty of food though - or we did.  The Commander called us all in to explain along with Dr. Ian Crow.

The Commander started, "With the help of our new base doctor *smattering of applause* we have deduced there is a long incubation period with the zombie virus we are now calling, 'Mortis.'  As you know we quarantined Runner 8's dog and he was on patrols with that dog soon afterward with no signs at all of being ill."

"Yes" Said Dr. Crow, "We think it may take a variable time to display symptoms.  For instance it took a week or so for Runner 8's dog to get sick but only took him a few days.  We also know it's in the elk population and can infect dogs and humans.  This is unprecedented in diseases.  So although Mortis is in many ways a less aggressive virus in many other ways it is far more dangerous.  We could all already have it and not know it."  A muttering went through the crowd. 

"So the food supply is tainted."  Said the Commander.  "Our elk herd has finally arrived in full numbers and there are plenty of deer but the only way to have them to eat is to confine them to very large, tall pens and wait to see if they get sick.  If after a month or so they're okay then we can butcher them."

If you've never seen an elk - the first time you think - tripod monster or something equally scary.  They're BIG.  They are deer on serious steroids.  The idea of putting one in a high enough strong enough fence sounded sketchy to me at best.  Little deer required an 8 foot fence not to jump out, my old neighbor kept a few around as pets.  At least we still had the Columbia river bay, we still had fish.

I went back to my bunker to let what I learned soak in.  The Commander had finished his talk by outlining how most of us were to be on rations for the day except a small supper of fish and vegetables as needed.

I started making myself a cup of pine needle tea.  I saw it once on Bear Grylls, he had said it was good for Vitamin C or something.  Maybe I remembered the episode wrong, but tea is nice and was in short supply.

Dr. Ian Crow came to my bunk house and knocked softly at the open door.  He was drenched, it was raining hard outside again from the Typhoon.  "Care for some tea?"  I asked he readily nodded and smiled.  I probably should have told him it was pine needles, oh' well.

"Runner 5, I felt I needed to warn you that as a runner you are particularly at risk from the dangers of this 'Mortis', and you'll be exposed to it undoubtedly if you continue to run and will need to be quarantined whenever you are on base if you continue to run."

I sighed heavily, "but you still need my help to gather samples and find out what's out there right?"

"No one will force  you to go"  The Commander said from the doorway.  I hadn't seen Grant, who knew what plans those two were hatching.

"I'm a Runner, it's what I do.  I'll just be careful."  I said.  "Maybe you guys can find a cure."  I said hopefully.  Neither men smiled....okay or not.

"When the rain blows over, we have new missions for you, some will be very dangerous."  He said then added..."and do you have those maps done?  We need them before...well before you leave."  He said hesitantly trying not to use the words infected and die I imagined.

That's all for now dear reader, goodnight.   

(Special thanks to Jephael for helping with this episode, finding the photo of the rotting elk and otherwise influencing me with her fandom know-how! Thanks!  Also thank you to Ian Crow who wanted to be in my story :D)

Friday 9-27-13 General Grant Has Arrived

Zombies Damage Fence Near Marina During Storm at Night

I've been working on maps all day for the Commander and his friend Grant - or as I like to call him in my head - The General.  General Grant? Okay not funny, but to me he's the Commander's general. 

Together the men are an unstoppable Juggernaut of knowledge and charisma.  For hours they have coaxed me on and on in this map project despite the fact that in real life I get lost often and have zero cartography experience.  Three years of figure drawing does not make me good at maps.  They went through a lot of trouble to haul in a computer with Photoshop on it for me to use. 

After hour two Grant pulled out a yummy chocolate and nut protein bar.  "Do you want this?" He asked casually, "I don't care for peanuts that much." I had tried to make myself immune to Grant but he was an expert people person.  Between his smile and the Commanders nods I kept working.  We made some progress.

Runner 5

Zombie Storm - The Typhoon Weather 

The tail end of a typhoon has hit making the zombies crazy.  It has been so bad that bicyclist from South Jetty Inn have not arrived per schedule and there have been no search and rescue missions for the lost Tourists.  Some Tourists remained behind of course and they complained loudly but Grant has this mesmerizing way about him, his quick smile, blue eyes, and calm demeanor never reacts to whatever is being thrown his way.  If someone was yelling in his face he calmly agreed with them on several facets of their argument and either found a way to slide along to someone else and a new topic or converted the person to his way of thinking. 

The Commander was always good at hearing all sides and not getting angry or reacting but Grant took the skill of people engineering to a whole other level.  He made people love him.  

I almost felt optimistic about our chances.  Grant was wickedly smart too - guess you have to be to actively wrangle humans, the most dangerous creatures on earth.  For some reason not everyone in the camp saw it.  They saw what Grant meant for them to see, a laid back bohemian - maybe a drug user? No threat at all - look the other way. 

He was setting up webs of manipulation.  He was a master at work, but so was the Commander - turns out they were childhood friends who were geniuses in school, graduated early, turned down Harvard.  I kept asking them questions as I worked on the maps.  I was dying to know their stories and who these guys really were.  I don't think they would ever let me know for sure, and I was surprised they divulged anything at all, but then again I feel like the black sheep of the camp.  The person who doesn't huddle for comfort with everyone else.  The person who chooses a danger so horrific that the others don't go near the fences - I go out the fence - I go into the wilderness risking my life and I do it day after day.  Zombies don't frighten me like they should. 

In a weird way working there with them in the bunker I started thinking of us as a ruling trifecta of force.  I was the main runner, and their go-to person, a bunkie even - were we cooperating as equals?  Then I banished the thought - anything I assumed or thought probably was planted there by Grant and the Commander

I have an important mission tomorrow but will write about it then - the typhoon threatens a great many plans.  Hopefully I get to see Hero 13 again and find out about Rilea.  

The Bikes, The Wonderful Bikes

Close the Gates!  Cover Fire!

The convoy of tourists had not yet returned.  Commander sent Runner 8 out with his dog to walk the perimeter line.  The Commander was in a very good mood - light hearted? Dare I say? I asked for a job and he beamed at me, a big smile behind his beard that made me feel like I had just said the very rightest words in the whole world. 

"Five, if you don't mind, run toward Seaside today until you see the revolution - you'll know it when you see it."  He smiled and clapped his hands walking off toward the latrine.  I doubted myself.  Revolution?  Did he say that or something else? 

I ran about four miles toward Seaside when I saw a wondrous site.  It was baffling.  Bikes.  Lots of them coming toward me.  Wheels turned and happy-go-lucky waves greeted me.  One fellow pulled up.  "Hey Brecca - give this runner the extra bike"  Someone pulled up short, they had an extra bike hitched to her own.

"Gladly" she said handing it to me.  I got on awkwardly - I'm scared of bicycles.  All the bikes were awkwardly loaded down mostly fencing and barbed wire.  The people on the bikes looked very fit and of all ages, some were even obviously families.  I got on the bike and I started to pedal.  Soon it was clear to me - we were going to Fort Stevens. 

Okay - I'm dense.  I'll admit that I had to see the gates before I had the OMG feeling in my gut.  Could this be planned?  Well of course it was - but who?  The Commander.  While the Tourists were out as zombie bait.  But how did he get word to them.  I remembered the equipment in our bunk but also the transmission station I had found.

Coast Guard Communication Station

Well, however he had done it - he had done it.  A large group of people were now joining our ranks.  But where would they sleep?  We couldn't house all of them.

The Fort was a pit stop.  One young man, maybe older but he was very fit so looked younger - rail thin got up from his bike.  He clapped the Commander on the back and the two started conversing back and forth ignoring the rest of the gathering.  I didn't know the Commander could have conversations like that! 

I gave directions to many toward the latrines.  The Commander motioned me into the bunker we shared.  Both men were pouring over the technology.  The new fellow had a long shank of blond hair and very blue eyes.  He knew exactly what it all was and suggested some modifications which they talked over at length.  I was exceedingly bored and baffled at the same time.

"Runner 5 here is an artist" the Commander said finally.  "She can redraw the camp lines and make us a map I bet."  The new fellow nodded and added -- "We have a lot of planning to do Runner 5 so you  might end up with a few mockups before we decide where to to put the first fences."

I admit, it was a little bit like - the Tourists had been a crazy baby sitter who you were really worried was going to break your toys and burn you with a cigarette and the new people felt like the grownups had arrived, had their shit together and everything was finally going to be okay.

The talk turned to expanding the camp into residential areas that were originally part of the fort and using natural land features as barriers against the zombies.  They discussed at length which fence sections could be completed before winter set in.

The Commander had not actually ever gave up control of the camp I realized.  He had used the convoy as a decoy so that his revolutionaries could safely arrive and real progress get made.  Had he just been frustrated for too long?  I wondered.  The Commander, I decided, was a dangerous man.

Where they were going to sleep was soon remedied.  They were taking over the now abandoned South Jetty Inn, using the wire and fence the brought with them to barricade around it.  They would be a short ride from the Fort and soon the two sections would be connected. 

Soon instead of just me and Runner 8 pulling missions there would be three people out on bike as well and they could patrol the roads in Hammond district very easily and quickly.  It wouldn't all be on my shoulders anymore.  I was relieved.

It couldn't be all fun and games.  Ethridge wandered back into camp angry as usual and demanded that I, Runner 5 get busy and run supplies to the retirement village -- a really long run and the supply he wanted?  Water.  I can't carry gallons of water.  Camel I am not.  Some of the  new people went out on bikes with water.  Turns out the entire convoy had dysentery and five were already dead, and then they had made too much noise and about fifty zombies had attacked them.  A few were left but weak and dangerously dehydrated.  

 

At that point I kinda thought that the Commander was going to shoot him but instead sent off help in a good natured, "lets all get along" kinda way.   Maybe he knew the five left behind were already dead and Ethridge Carlson was guilty as hell because obviously someone had drank the good safe water and left the others to drink the questionable source.  Carlson was a murderer.  

But was the Commander?  It was situational ethics I guess and I just didn't have time to ponder it.  The new people seemed nice and I was sorry to see them go - but the man with the blond shock of hair stayed behind and moved into our bunk.  Him and the Commander wouldn't stop talking about technology and engineering.  I put my headphones on.  They are driving me crazy.

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Hey all - this weekend I'm running the South Clatsop Slough Scramble, trying for the 5.5 mile distance.  :-) Wish me well, cheers! 

 

TARDIS

I hate Ethridge Carlson, the man smells bad, has bad teeth, ew.  Anyway at about 4:30am this morning he had me out on a ten mile run scouting the road ahead of their idiot convoy to get supplies.  And get this reader - oh' you will not believe this - but I overheard them talking and one of the main reasons they are going is for cigarettes and booze.  Senior citizens!  I know, I'm naive, I thought they wanted photos of their now zombified loved ones or knitting supplies.  Nope, packs of Camel is the priority.

Our old Commander told them NO to the big thingie vehicle that moves people and is from WWII lovingly restored.  He was adamant they not take it, so of course they did which allowed them to take an extra fifteen or so people. 

He stalked off after losing the argument.  Concerned I followed him into our bunk.  Reader...he was laughing.  Wow.

So I do my run and come back and a couple of  hours had past because I had to dodge some zombs and just was being lazy about the whole progress because I hated being up so early and not being able to see properly.  What if there were spiders? Ew.

I get back and its light and the convoys had already left.  Yeah - send me out on a ten miler and then don't even wait for me to get back!  They must have been in some kind of hurry to find some smokes and spark up.

I go back into my buck and it's completely transformed.  There is a rack and routers and devices attached to it that I have no idea what are.  A new solar panel is on our roof and wires are everywhere.

The Commander is a network engineer and runs our leg of Ruffle net it turns out.  He wanted the network away from Carlson I guess.  He didn't really give an reason for moving a ton of blinking lights into our living space.

Our Living Quarters

"So want to watch some tv?"  He asked.  I looked at him incredulously.  He pointed to my old Macintosh laptop.  "I can hook it up to the server and we can stream some tv" he said.

He had Doctor Who, Sherlock, Community, M*A*S*H, and terabyte upon terabyte of tv shows and movies.  Soon we were watching Community and laughing our butts off.  He brought out the elk jerky, the go to snack in camp.

There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask him like, "did you just knowingly send all those people to die?" or "Why don't you depose Ethridge Carlson?" or "How do you know how to do all this engineering stuff?"  But - I'm shy and even when he's laughing he's intimidating.

The Tourists had now gone.  We were doing absolutely nothing but watching TV and it was luxurious.  It was a good day after all despite the ten mile early morning run.  The Commander relaxed out on his bunk and took a nap.  It was one of those sorts of days.  It struck me that he probably never gets to nap or eat jerky or watch TV that maybe him letting Carlson screw everything up for a week or two was simply to get a vacation.

That's all for today dear reader....cheers!