The Failed Coward Read online

  After they composed themselves (again), Gavin sat down and filled us in on news from Westfield. Things there were very good. Life post-Sean had been good thus far, and Lisa Goldman has been what Gavin described as a “kick ass leader.” She’s organized training for folks so skills are shared that way no one is the only person who knows anything. She’s also made good safety decisions, puts everyone else before her, and seems like she actually cares. These are all exciting traits for a leader to h have.

  They staged a mission a few days ago to a local construction company’s yard to obtain something we’ve needed. I know I thought of the idea of getting a milk truck to haul water, and I still maintain that’d work just fine, but Lenny had his reservations apparently. Something to do with the weight of water versus milk. Lenny instead realized that the local paving company had water trucks that they used to keep the dust down during hot, dry days. These trucks were about the size of the trucks that deliver your home heating oil. If the interior of the tank was cleaned and sterilized, then the water truck would serve admirably as a transportation device.

  Their operation went smoothly, and they encountered minimal zombie resistance. Gavin said they had something around 50 to deal with the entire operation. He went on to explain that they took longer to find the keys to the truck than they did to kill all the zombies near where the truck was parked. Personally, I’m not sure if hearing that they encountered 50 zombies was a good thing, or a bad thing. I was under the impression they’d already largely cleared the area, and if they found 50 all in the same vicinity, then that means they haven’t cleared the area well, or the zombies have migrated in from elsewhere.

  Apparently they’ve cleaned and prepped the truck already, and instead of us going there on the 31st, they’re coming here so we can fill the water tank. With the garden hoses we have... We’re looking at it taking hours to fill. Gavin felt like that truck was either a 2,000 gallon tank, or a 2,500 gallon tank. Either way, that could be as much as 6-10 hours to completely fill, depending on how fast we can get the water going, and how many hoses we can get going simultaneously.

  Either way you cut it that totally solves our issue of supplying them with too little water, or wasting fuel making constant water runs. The rate of water consumption for drinking is like what? A gallon a day or something like that? If they have 40 people there (and that’s high) and they each consume a gallon a day over a week that adds up to 280 gallons a week. Triple that for bathing and washing dishes and whatnot, and we’re looking at having a 2,000 gallon tank being just about perfect to cover all their needs every week.

  Very exciting news. It’s also pleasing to note that they did this on their own, and for once, one of my problems was solved by someone else. Yay Westfield friends, and hooray for not having to be the muscle, yet again.

  Gavin said Mike and company would be arriving on campus at about 9am to facilitate the water loading on the truck. He also thought Ollie and Melissa would be coming to double check that they were still welcome here. Gavin felt that they were still very much excited to move here. Ollie especially, if only to get free of his dad’s farm, and to strike out on his own.

  So yeah. All good news. Gavin dropped off a short list of things that they need in Westfield, and we can fill most of their order with no problem. Mostly they continue to need hygiene oriented supplies. Bleach, detergent, toothpaste, soap, deodorant, etc. We’ve got that in spades, especially after getting the stuff from STIG.

  Mike’s note also mentioned he has two ACOG scopes for us, as well as more ammo, more of Lenny’s wares, and diesel fuel if needed. I think it’s funny that we are now giving them more than they need, and for the longest time, I thought it’d be the opposite. I’m pleased that they are now scrounging for items to trade to us for our resource(s). I’m sure when summer and fall rolls around and our crops are being harvested, we’ll have a more interesting set of trades. Until then, water is our oil, and we can trade it strong with them. I think we’re being fair to everyone right now too, which makes me happy.

  Yesterday I ripped out the wall in my bedroom that adjoined the bedroom next to mine. Patty and Abby helped me, and surprisingly it didn’t take long at all to get the whole wall taken down, and the holes patched up with the bits of drywall lingering around in the basements on campus. Pleasantly, I found several full sheets in a bunch of places, which means we’ve got some decent interior finishing supplies should we need to do some work. I had the spackle applied, and we were cleaned up and drinking a beer after about six hours. As everyone was going to bed, I slapped a coat of the paint from the basement over the new stuff we put up, and I moved everything into my room an hour or two after that. Paint fumes for the win!

  I slept downstairs last night lol. I couldn’t deal with the fresh paint smell. I cracked a window and blacked out down here on my two beer buzz. Huzzah for being a lightweight.

  I am in a good place right now. I feel positive, almost invigorated. I have started to look at my life less in the light of my failings, and more in the light of my successes. I know I’m not perfect, and I know I will make mistakes, but I can’t murder myself over that anymore. I need to keep trying to be a better person, and to help others. I can be defined by more than my past. I can choose my legacy and make my future.

  Something Gilbert said to me strikes me now as being particularly sagely. One day he and I were talking, I forget when, and he said something about how we now had to earn our salvation now.

  That small concept has really sat with me and resonated, especially after having shot Steve. On paper… HOLY SHIT. I shot my friend Steve. Granted, he was dead at the time, but shit, I shot him in the face, and killed him again. Then I threw his body into a fire, and burnt it into ash.

  And I’m totally okay with that, because I genuinely believe I brought him peace. I don’t know if I sent him to heaven, or to hell, or to wherever we get to go when our ticket is punched nowadays, but I feel down in the pit of my stomach that I brought him peace.

  And that brings me peace. And I feel grateful that I am still here, able to bring some kind of release to the dead, and to help the living survive as long as possible, and to help them live the best lives that they can.

  Now I know I’m not perfect. And I know I swear, and burp, and fart, and when I need to, I’ll push a turd down the drain of a shower.

  But I think the world needs someone like that. Someone who is imperfect, but trying to be the best person they can, rising above life’s challenges, and rising above all the turds circling the drain.

  Maybe someone like me.

  -Adrian

  March 31st

  PRODUCTIVE DAY! PRODUCTIVE COUPLE OF DAYS!

  Exhaustion has now set in. I am gonna bang this out, and face plant in my pillow. MY PILLOW. From my home. It smelled weird at first, but I washed it and now it reminds me of comfort from home. I’ve noticed I’m sleeping better since I switched to it. I’m also sleeping better now that I have my TV from home mounted on the wall of my room, and I can rub one out and fall directly asleep afterwards. Yay for half asleep porno.

  Good times Mr. Journal. Good times.

  Mike, Ollie, Melissa, and a new guy came to visit us today in a humvee, and a brand spanking new water truck. Okay so that’s at least two new things to talk about. Gavin and Mike also had a nice moment where Mike asked him how it all went, and Gavin excitedly told him. There’s a definite father/son thing going on there. It might just be a Sergeant/Private thing too, but there’s definitely some family love happening. Actually, that does no justice to the relationship a good Sergeant has with the troops below them. Mike looked very proud of Gavin for having stepped up and come here to ask about moving here and dating Abby. That’s actually the third thing to talk about.

  First things first.

  New guy: small fella named Hector Gutierrez. He’s a Specialist in the unit Mike is now the head of. Well, that’s sort of assuming they even still exist as a unit. I think Mike said there are only five or six of them
left now, after everything that’s happened. Hector is a small guy, maybe pushing five and a half feet, and he’s a thick one too. Not fat, just wide of shoulder and hip. As you might imagine, he has a Mexican lineage, and was not shy at all in reminding to never question his “brown pride.” Hector has a few years experience working on vehicles, and Mike says he is their mechanic. He’s funny, pretty clever, and I liked him from the jump.

  The water truck is pretty sweet. It’s a big International truck with a giant steel water container mounted on the back. Mike and Hector hopped up and showed me that the interior was actually lined with a synthetic material (kind of like a sleeve) to prevent leaks, and to fight mold and stuff. It should be absolutely perfect for us as we move forward. Well, it could be a little better, because it took for-fucking-ever to fill up using two garden hoses.

  Mike knew it’d take forever, and he suggested we get the hoses going immediately. We hooked one up to the sink in Hall A, and the other up to an exterior nozzle on the side of the Hall. We didn’t want to stand or sit out there in the morning chill holding the hoses, so we jury rigged a temporary duct tape system to hold the hoses pointing downward into the tank. I want to say it took us…. Six hours to fill the tank? Maybe seven? I’m not entirely positive, but the moral of the story is, it was a long ass time.

  While we waited for the tank to fill, we had an early lunch, and got our trade out of the way. I think this was our first heavily lopsided trade in favor of us. The quantity of water we sent their way in the truck was substantial, and the fact that we have a largely unlimited supply of it makes me think the value of our water might not be as high anymore. Not so much because it isn’t as valuable, but because it’s so damn easy for us to get.

  Westfield can’t possibly continue to give us trades like today if they plan on having their own shit as time goes on. The truck filled with water is just shy of 2,500 gallons. If they use just that water, that’s a week’s worth for them, with spare Mike felt.

  In addition to the water, we gave them some of the venison off the deer I got awhile ago, and six cans of fruit.

  Mike traded to us the following: 2x ACOG scopes for the M4/M15 rifles, which substantially increases the range we can be accurate with them, as well as two chickens (butchered for eating) two dozen eggs, four bottles of milk, one almost full case of kosher MREs (apparently no one likes the meal inside, chicken and black beans btw, oi vey!), and four bags of field grade fertilizer for Ollie to put to use when he and Melissa move here.

  All of that for some water. Out of the tap. How hilarious is that? Actually that’s not funny at all. I feel like a highway robber. Mike and I looked at the trade at the end and granted, the amount of water is enormous, but the risk and work in obtaining it is negligible whereas the risk and effort in getting the stuff they are trading to us is much higher. It definitely isn’t far, and we all agreed that the trade values needed adjusting as we moved forward. We need to be fair to preserve the relationship.

  Uh. What next? Okay, Ollie and Melissa are moving here on the 2nd. We elected to have them come here in two days mostly to avoid a really bad April Fool’s joke. I know I’d be tempted to do something stupid that day, and it’s just for the best if I avoid any kind of temptation. They are arriving with another large pickup, and from what Ollie says, a large amount of tools his father is sparing for him. Ollie and I talked about the tractor at the farm on Jones Road, and based off my description of it, he says we will be golden if he can get it running.

  So they’ll be here on the 2nd. Bitching. I am looking forward to their arrival. The more I hang out with Ollie and Melissa, the more I like them. They’re salt of the earth people. Simple, strong, and smarter than anyone gives them credit for. I wish I’d known more folks like them.

  Abby and Gavin are already a couple. Big surprise right Mr. Journal? Jealous? Abby is pretty cute, and she’s only going to get better looking as the years pile onto her. She’s gotta grow into her frame, and once she’s found her woman’s confidence, she’ll be an absolute beast to handle. I feel so bad for Gavin. She’s so clearly in control of their relationship. In a good way mind you. She isn’t domineering, she’s just the dominant personality, and he is more than happy to sunbathe in her aura. If the mall was open, I can totally see her making him hold her purse while she tried some trendy logo t-shirt on at Hot Topic or something. It’s cute.

  What else am I missing here? Ollie and Melissa… the truck, the new guy Hector, oh incidentally, Hector gave Gavin some pretty hilarious tongue lashings when he laid eyes on Abby. Hector has a slight accent, and inserts Spanish words here and there for emphasis and humor. Our white-ness amuses him to no end. It’s too funny watching him go off on Gavin. Here’s a sample quote: “Mi Amigo, you have brass cojones to leave my sweet ass behind for that blonde chick. Look at me. I’m HOT.” And then he gestures at his fat Mexican ass like he’s a playboy model. It’s so funny. I thought at one point Abby was going to stab him though. Abby and Patty have the same “death ray stare” and she put it to good work making sure Hector knew the humor didn’t outlast her patience. New couples can be so cute.

  Oh, Mike and company said they drove past and handled two zombies right neat the Auburn Lake Road, Route 18 intersection, where the gas station burned down. He thought they were moving in this general direction, which makes me wonder if our recent forays into the new areas of town have drawn them back. Apparently whatever truce we’d had that kept the bastards away is now officially over. Oh well.

  I guess that means some of the undead are headed our way to get put down. I have decided to think of this as a fuel saving initiative on the undead’s part, and I am now officially thankful for it. Go green! Come to the humans to get shot, save a gallon of gas! Now if more than a few dozen do this at a time, I’ll quickly lose my good natured opinion about the matter. I reserve the right to change my mind.

  After our trade we shot the shit, hung out, and we gave them a quick tour of Hall B where Ollie and Melissa are going to set up. The expectant couple seemed very excited to have all that space to themselves. Neither of them seemed put off by the work that needed to be put into the place either, which was good news. Ollie seemed downright elated. He also said he knew of a few woodstoves in Westfield we could get if we couldn’t find one locally, which was a pretty clutch bit of news on his part. They were both almost brought to tears when they saw the baby stuff we’d salvaged from the daycare a week and a half ago. Genuinely appreciative.

  Once the truck’s water tank was filled to our satisfaction, we ripped the duct tape off, pulled the hoses, sealed her up, and they were off. Melissa and Patty had a very long goodbye too. I think they’re bonding as mother, and soon to be mother. Warms the heart.

  So yesterday we got Gavin settled into Hall E with us. He’s in his own room on the third floor, far from Abby’s vagina. Patty slept well last night in the belief that she would be able to hear him sneaking down, or her sneaking up. I’m pretty sure I heard one of them going one way or the other last night, but frankly, I am not cock-blocking Abby. They’ve gotten the use a condom speech, and I think they are smart enough to listen to it. I’m just hoping they have a heavy petting phase before they get into the more… serious stuff.

  I miss serious stuff. I think I caught a light socket giving me the ole wink the other night. I almost had sex with it just so I could say to myself I stuck my dick in *something.* Luckily I waved that attack pattern off. Last thing I need is to electrocute my penis.

  Not much else happened yesterday. I think we were all pretty excited about the new face on campus. Gilbert came down and played the role of Abby’s grandfather, and gave Gavin several of “the speeches” after which Gavin sat at least two or three extra inches away from her. The man has power Mr. Journal. He can scare the penis right inside a twenty year old.

  I just realized I used the word penis in two consecutive paragraphs. That’s got to be significant in some weird fashion. Especially if you factor in that I am referring to more than
my own penis. When a man talks about someone else’s penis, you know the shit is for real. That or I’m steadily going gay. Shrug.

  Tomorrow… I don’t know about tomorrow yet. I’m thinking we lay low again, and get some shit done around campus. I’d like to get more firewood cut and split for the woodstove in Hall A and for when we get a stove in Hall B. That job has Gavin and Abby written all over it.

  I think Patty, Gilbert and I should go down Auburn Lake Road and assess the home heating oil supply. There’s what? 45 houses in this vicinity, and I’d bet twenty bucks most of them use heating oil. With a better idea of how much fuel we can bring to bear, we’ll have a more accurate idea of how long we can heat the Halls using oil. I know eventually we’ll be switching to just wood heat, but I’d obviously like to use the furnaces as long as possible.

  Nothing larger than that strikes me as prudent at this juncture. Heading back into town right before Ollie and Melissa arrives seems silly to me. Prepping here is the thing to do. Once they get here, and are settled comfortably, we can start at looking at heading back into town, and clearing houses for supplies, and to kill zombies. I’m also starting to think about marking houses as being cleared so folks can tell that they’re safe, and so that we can know that we’ve cleared them already.

  With myself, Patty, Gilbert, Abby, and Gavin, we can probably clear two houses at the same time, and roll in a three vehicle unit, which is so much safer for everyone. Well, clearing two houses at once isn’t safer, but it certainly will be faster. Before we do that, I need to see how Gavin is with the M4 he brought with him.

  It’s a comforting thought to know that we have one more gun in the fight if shit gets thick. I’m starting to feel a lot less vulnerable with him here. Maybe it’s because he’s a soldier? Or maybe it’s because I’m coming to grips with reality?