Sometimes it takes a while to find the right words. Yesterday I was pretty angry, that was obvious. I went to talk to Will and the council--the right word is probably that I went to confront them--about the lack of movement against the Exiles. We've had some of their people prisoner long enough to get plenty of information from them. Why haven't we used that?
We've been experiencing a slow time for the last few days. No new attacks, no sign of the Exiles on this side of the river. And there won't be. At least not any time soon.
Let me preface what I'm about to tell you with an explanation. When Will gave me the following information, I told him I would put it on the blog. He and the council argued with me, a lot, but I stood by that decision. I told them they'd have to lock me up to stop me. Not because I disagree with what they did, but because I felt the best way to serve the warning to our enemies and prove to our allies that we're going to be as transparent as possible is by telling it like it is.
So. The Exiles that have been hitting us? The ones treating our half of the county like their own personal playground? They're dead. All of them.
Will and Dodger have been carefully prepping and sending out small groups of soldiers that came down from North Jackson. Weeks of planning out scenarios and waiting for a trap to draw in careless enemies came to fruition when we took those prisoners. Over the last few days teams of soldiers have stalked the Exiles, sometimes using traditional methods, others doing creative things to get a peek at the enemy. One of our teams attacked an Exile camp the same way the Exiles have been attacking us: by covering themselves in zombie gore and leading a group of the undead at them.
Becky has been busy so much lately because, unknown to anyone outside her shop and the council, she was working on basic chemical weapons for these attacks. She couldn't tell me. No one involved with the operation was allowed to talk about it. A few months ago that would have bothered me. Knowing there are more than a hundred corpses out there that used to be living, breathing people full of potential would have bothered me.
Right this second I'm not all that fussed about it. Call it a defense mechanism for my poor, battered brain if you want, but I'm saving my concern and anxiety for people that actually give a crap about other human beings. Far from being upset, I think this is a damn good thing. There is a time and place for playing defense and being the bigger person. The fucking apocalypse is neither.
Playing nice and dishing out ultimatums don't matter much if you don't follow through. Long story short, we can't move forward while dealing with the same old threats all the time. Will and the council were decisive and strong exactly when we need it the most. I'm calling it a win.
Also, a warning. If you've got the strong urge to become a charred, sticky skeleton, then please follow the example of the groups of Exiles that have been attacking us. My mother's family has a motto on their coat of arms. The Latin says "Felis Demulcta Mitis", which translates to "Gentle in peace, fearless in war." We've given the people attacking us chance after chance over the months and years. Every opportunity you could ask for to simply walk away and do something constructive. Human history is full of dumb, aggressive assholes who can't let go of bad ideas.
We're no longer going to be gentle with you. The more we have to lose, the harder we'll fight to protect it. In this case, our people are the greatest treasure we could hope for. I suggest to anyone thinking about revenge to reconsider. Especially any remaining Exiles who aren't trying to work on a new life at the fallback point.
No more chances. If our people catch you, you die. The end.