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Showing posts with label plan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plan. Show all posts

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Jack's Diary - The Caged Bird - Day 70

*Morning*
            It turned out the kid was just putting a collection of ammo clips in the storage shed for one of the men who didn’t feel like doing it himself. I doubt he’ll do it again voluntarily after how much I scared him. Even in the presence of complete peace, it helps to be suspicious, even if it harms you a little in the long run. I went to Mike’s room to tell him I’d do the Project myself. He insisted that he’d go with me, since I could easily not make it back (which made sense considering I hadn’t attempted the plan yet so there might be some unforeseen consequences. I found it ironic that the guy who goes it alone so often is telling me I need backup). As much as I hate to wait, he said we’d do it after the Valors are no longer a threat. When exactly aren’t they going to be a threat? When they’re all dead? Do we really need to kill them all to have peace of mind? Even if we killed one hundred of them, who knows if they have a thousand more waiting? I wasn’t going to argue about it so I left.
            I’ve been recently thinking of catching a bird. A hawk would be nice. There are plenty of exotic birds in the area (maybe even some parrots from an abandoned pet shop that escaped). I’ve always wanted a pet of some kind and dogs and cats aren’t readily available at the moment. I intend to set up a trap. Right now, all I need is a cage, a pile of seeds, a long string, a stick of some kind, and a sturdy box with some holes in it. I’m going to make a rabbit trap (it should work with birds though). It’s easy to make: you prop the box up with the stick, tie the string to it, lay the seed under the box, back away a safe distance to lure the bird into a false sense of security, and pull the string to trap them. The supplies shouldn’t be too hard to find in the pile of assorted junk that’s accumulated in a few of the storage sheds.
*Afternoon*
            Usually, I excel at everything I do. Bird catching is not one of them. They seem to always fly away before I spring the trap. It doesn’t help that people walk by and scare them away. They probably think I look like a moron doing this, but I don’t care. While I was searching for the supplies, I found a cassette player. Until now, I’d forgotten about the tape I found on Matt. All it needs is some new batteries and I’ll be able to listen to it.
            I could’ve sworn I heard an air horn go off in the far distance. Man, I wish I had one; it’d work perfectly for the plan. Perhaps I found one and forgot about it. I’ve accumulated a lot of stuff myself so I’ll have to look.
*Evening*
            Finally caught one! It’s a small yellow canary. His (or her) name is Ray, as in a ray of sunshine (when you don’t know the sex of a pet, it isn’t a good idea to be calling it names like Drew or Mary when such names are mainly for boys and girls). It’s now perched inside the dog cage in my room that I customized with a bowl of food, a water droplet container, newspaper, and a thin piece of wood tied to the side of the cage for Ray to sit on (ironically, I used the same string from the trap). I get the feeling from the way it looks at me that it hates me for having caught it. I may not keep it too long. I had some extra time so I looked through my journal to see if I’d ever picked up an air horn. Only once. I’d planned to use it previously on home base of the red and blue uniformed men. If anyone would have it now, it would be Jess since I gave it to her. I’ll ask later.
            I heard Mike was brought in with an injury so I went to see if he was okay. He turned out to be fine. Just shot in the shoulder. Before leaving him, he tasked me to make a weapon that was silent, but could hit a target 30 meters away (about 100 feet, I guess). Easier said than done. I told him I’d see what I could do.
            The only guns in the base’s arsenal that could accomplish hitting a target at that distance by an average gun user would be a rifle or sniper rifle (I’m not aware of the types or exact names). Back at the hill, I learned a few different ways to make one, but I didn’t have a lot of materials to work with so only one effective method came to mind. For this, I need some water bottles, cylinders big enough to fit the water bottles in (anything from plastic pipes to Pringles cans), and padding (cloth, sponge, paper, bubble wrap). To do this, you cut two water bottles in half width wise, cut a third one’s bottom off, connect the three water bottle top to top while including padding in them, drill a hole in the bottom water bottle part cut off (I had to measure the bullet’s diameter to make sure it was big enough), reattached it, covered the whole thing in padding, insert it into a cylinder, and then drill a hole in it as well. The last thing to do was connect it with the gun. It looked like garbage, but nothing a little paint couldn’t fix. The material were pretty easy to get a hold off consider people in the base were throwing them away. A guy named Spence S. showed me how to do this while I was still at The Hill. It’s funny. He learned this back before the outbreak just by experimenting. He even claimed to have posted an instructional video about it, among other ones. Kind of wish he was still around.
*Night*
Asked Jess. She thinks she left it on the roof of their base. Oh well. I made and tested 5 silencers, 4 for regular rifles and 1 for a sniper rifle though the silencer may be obstructing the scope’s view. They worked fine and I only had to fix one. I would’ve made more, but it takes awhile to get the measurements exact. I don’t want anyone hurting themselves due to an error on my part. By now, Mike had gone to bed so I plan to show them to him in the morning. I could continue working, but it’s too dark and batteries don’t grow on trees so I’m not using a lantern. Speaking of batteries, I found a box full of them and decided to “borrow” two for the cassette player. I’ll listen to it before I go to sleep. Before that though, I have one more design I’m working on. I’ll write about it tomorrow.

- Jack’s Diary


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Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Jack's Diary - I Hope When Doubting - Day 60

            I was tired and kept falling asleep during the drive. My dreams replayed my murders before. After seeing these sights so many times, I no longer feel remorse or fear of them; now, when I wait I fear what I’ve become. I haven’t had a fit of murderous rage come over me for a while now, probably because I’m venting through my conscious actions. There’s too much about myself that I don’t understand, but I know I don’t want to be some life taker; there’s no reward or happy endings for such human beings.
            I can barely move my left arm now without it feeling like something was going to tear. I can out a piece of cloth from the bottom of my tent to make a mesh (I’ll deal with the hole later). My leg is feeling good. While I was in and out of consciousness, Ann took the bullet out of my leg and patched it up. I didn’t feel a thing. It seems she does have her uses after all (and how strange that she now suddenly remember now when others had worse injuries before). I’ m not going to debate this though. She did something good.
            We’ve gotten pretty far today, at least I think. My eyes weren’t open for most of it. With Mike, Victor, and I still recovering from injuries, the older kids took up the responsibility of guarding our camp. Mike took the guns off them and gave them melee weapons; understandable, no need to bring attention to ourselves (Also, night’s approaching and I wouldn’t want one of the kids stupidly shooting themselves in the foot). I could still do stuff and I felt fine. It was just my arm that worried me. It’s numb and ugly looking. I really hope it heals up (though I doubt it will ever be the same).
            Mike thanked me and said if it weren’t for me, all six of us would be dead. I can’t take credit for that since it was a group effort and we were lucky. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a team of six taking down an army (with the help of some kids). It’s a story you’d find in Greek mythology or the newest action movie… when they still made them. Had the Valors been smart, they would’ve put distance between us and them (that would be my reaction if someone was pointing a turret at me). They couldn’t bear to leave their home behind even when they knew it was doomed. I despised the Valors, but at the same time, I admired them in some respect. I wish my friends at the Hill ‘d done that. We had a better chance of winning and even if we were defeated, I would die happy, knowing we did our best. I should stop talking about the Hill; it’s gone though I can’t say the same for the memories; the same kinds of memories I hope to see again someday.
            Afterwards, Julie randomly hugged Mike, thanking him (it’s not like I did anything to help). He didn’t hug her back at first. He looked up at me, expecting an answer. I couldn’t see why not, so I thought it was weird that he’d look to me. As far as I’m concerned, with the Valor’s main base destroyed, Julie’s free to do what she pleases and we don’t have to push her away anymore. I left them alone since it was a nice moment between them. I actually a little concerned for Mike; he’s built his purpose around protecting and caring for someone and I’ve seen first hand what happens to him when the person dies. What’s going to happen WHEN Julie dies? (There’s no question since we all will die, but will it be after Mike’s dead?). It’s never good to build your life around something that will fade; that’s why it’s so hard to find meaning and purpose in life. Nearly everything falls to pieces eventually and once its gone, there’s no getting it back; we’re then left to find something else. I just hope he doesn’t let his memories of Lexi slip away. It’s not right to forget someone you once cared about.
            I’d said my purpose is looking after Mike and everyone else, but this isn’t enough. We’re all going to die some day and when we leave this world, it’ll still be a nightmare. I’ve come up with a plan to start wiping out the soulless population of the Earth and I’m going to need help. I decided I’d tell Mike once we got back to base (this also gives me more time to think the plan through).
            Ann came into my tent and sat beside me. There was a lot of activity going on outside and she chose to visit me; it was a nice gesture. I kept staring out the tent flap expecting to see a group of men charging at our camp. I can’t and don’t believe we killed all the Valors: would they let us go and move on? Residents from the other base I helped destroy hunted me for days. I don’t fear the Valors; I fear they will take me by surprise. I fear that my arm will never get better. I just don’t feel right. Let's just move on.


- Jack’s Diary

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