Fucking damn hard to believe two weeks have passed by. He’s slowly still adapting to the economy and relations with those who control might live and die. Mainly those with water, food and supplies. It’s definitely an small-scale oligarchy here, but seemingly a benign one.

Cobb was a mess when he
got here. Everyone was suspect. The woman who guided me from the Eights complex to the hospital. The staff at the hospital. Anyone who looked sideways at me. All suspect. In his paranoia he jammed the door at the refuge.  Found out the next day it was the woman’s dorm. Oh… Fucking… well…

He managed a bit of talk with Dakota, one of the greeters. At first we were openly hostile with each other, largely my doing, but he didn’t back down and neither did Cobb.  It took some time to sort that out. We finally managed a stable social ground, but suspicion remains.

He headed out to explore Arklay.  First along the waterfront. He wandered near the ATC complex. He also caught sight of the brush covered pile, under which was my stash. It remained undisturbed. Not much to see here, word was there was a marina further east. Another journey for another day. Just East of the ATC complex was a small tin-roofed shack. Cobb was half in before realizing was trespassing.

In general the people he crossed paths with were decent folks.  This surprised him. It’s the fucking apocalypse. Few were gruff or openly hostile. Another thing shocked and horrified me, which was the callous nature people dispatched the infected. If there were a small spark in their eyes, they deserved better than they were getting. Cobb’s attitude towards these lost souls garnered me a bit of suspicion and animosity.

He did run into a few others. A guy from the Eights was adjusting his .357 in his waistband but i took it to mean he meant me imminent violence. It took a lot to settle Cobb down. His own guide helped defuse the situation a bit, but words were tossed about, dangerous words. He decided to tolerate this new guy. Not trust. Tolerate.

Actually, he felt he’d been doing a pretty good job at alienating people around the island. The fear and suspicions that worked on the mainland would not find safe harbor here. People in Arklay seemed generally friendly. Despite their kindness, he remained ready to move out fast, at any moment.

He lost track of all the people he’d crossed paths with. People at the Eights. A compound within a compound. They claimed no affiliation with Arklay, but considered themselves and independent faction. He was invited to sign on, but declined. Actually every business I checked out  in Arklay was recruiting. It made him uncomfortable. Did they have original employees? Were they dead, buried nearby?

He managed a trip through the abandoned theme park. Pretty nondescript, though they kept live horses there.He  continued my exploration, giving wide berth to people he crossed. This town was a bit odd, old generators spread about the place. Seems like after all this time some of that load would be shifted to Solar or Windpower. Just a waste of fuel, and what’s left has to be water affected an turning to Jel.

He also learned this place is pricey, with a seeming competition between store owners and clerks jacking up the prices. For example, a bottle of water at the pub cost him $20.  Then $21. Then $40 at Dixons garage. Same with crossbow bolts. $180 for three. Next visit, $200. Ridiculous.

He signed on at Dixon’s as a mechanic, without doing much research. He regrets it now. The work list is long and he  meant long. The lead staff Silvy, seemed overworked and stressed.

Not to mention those at the pub who raised up about me performing a quick maintenance check on their generator during routine maintenance. No. Not without Kali’s permission.  Fine by me, I’d just rotate them to the bottom of the list. I could understand that reaction in a critical environment, but a pub? Hell no. Still, I kept on keeping on.

This town was bringing out the best and worst in him. Half the time he wanted to swing a shovel at their heads, the other half he wished he had something decent to share with them.

I met another survivor in the woods. She was pretty friendly and outgoing. She hated crowds though. I was largely nonjudgmental with her. She hates crowds, I get it.  I don’t like crowds for a different reason, that being a simple, terse question could evolve into a nearly hour long conversation.

He did settle in to a small cabin on the edge of the fringe. It’s ok, but he plans on moving on sooner than later. It’s noisy. He can hear every conversation up at the Dollhouse. Also had a perved out peeping tom earlier. Had he thought of it,he’d have turned to him and said “You fucking want it, don’t you”. Ahhh well, there’s next time. If there is a next time. It seems safe here, but all the hints of an oligarchy are present. A defacto ruling class, and the rest of us.

As of this entry he’s deciding whether to stay and with conviction, appeal for a more balanced system, or just steal away like a thief in the night.

In the near term, he needed to meet more people. His experience so far may have been jaded by the whispers and nudges about all hewas doing wrong. Like fuck? Did you arrive here doing everything spot on? He’s tired of that lame superior bullshit. Cobb’s human. He’ll make mistakes. He sure don’t need those who think they are gods resting judgement on every word and action.