lapsus_deus (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} lapsus_deus) wrote,@ 2005-03-15 03:11:00 |
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power vacuum
I was up feeding the chickens and about thirty or forty men and women from the village came walking and biking up the street. They looked worked up.
It turned out that other representatives of the people hoarding the food had come into town at night and burned the supermarket. They demanded to know what should be done. When I asked why they came to me they seemed upset. They demanded to know who else they should come to.
They apparently figured I was some sort of leader because I had shown them how to forage and grow food, I was the healthiest, and I had shot one of the invaders.
I was able to calm them by telling them I would start making trips to a farther supermarket in the car and bring back enough food to last until the farm came up productive. I also offered to help arm them and help them guard their food. They mostly approved, but one insisted that I move out of my shelter and let the old missile silo serve as a lockable food source.
I had to explain that it was too far from town to store food and that there wouldn't be enough gas to move the food back and forth for much longer. They weren't satisfied until I offered to give 8 of the next 12 chicks my hens raised.
If I had been their unknowing leader, it was clear that I was now only going to be an advisor, and I wish I had known so I could have avoided letting them down in such a profound way. They finally dispersed arguing amungst themselves. This could get ugly. Very ugly...
I have to decide if I want to distribute the guns that I had stolen from the gunsmith/hunting store. I don't want the community to be as unstable it is and be armed with guns, but I also don't want to be victim to these food-hoarding marauders. They may have guns of their own but also may not.
I figure I should if only because Marci and I have guns, and that means that we have no right to tell anybody else they can't have the same as us. But I don't want to deal with the consequences if somebody I give one to can't be trusted. I can't dwell on this much longer today.
Marci has stopped bleeding so badly, but is still badly injured. She has been changing her dressings every day and I've picked up a few supplies for her, more gauze, bandage, and tape, as well as crutches and antibiotics.
She only uses one crutch and has little time for pain, it seems. She clearly doesn't seem to be about to let the wound hold her back, even though it will clearly leave her with a pretty unique limp. The cut was deep and clearly caused muscle damage.
I'm going to radio Abel and tell him about what's gone on and see if he can help in town or here.
I was up feeding the chickens and about thirty or forty men and women from the village came walking and biking up the street. They looked worked up.
It turned out that other representatives of the people hoarding the food had come into town at night and burned the supermarket. They demanded to know what should be done. When I asked why they came to me they seemed upset. They demanded to know who else they should come to.
They apparently figured I was some sort of leader because I had shown them how to forage and grow food, I was the healthiest, and I had shot one of the invaders.
I was able to calm them by telling them I would start making trips to a farther supermarket in the car and bring back enough food to last until the farm came up productive. I also offered to help arm them and help them guard their food. They mostly approved, but one insisted that I move out of my shelter and let the old missile silo serve as a lockable food source.
I had to explain that it was too far from town to store food and that there wouldn't be enough gas to move the food back and forth for much longer. They weren't satisfied until I offered to give 8 of the next 12 chicks my hens raised.
If I had been their unknowing leader, it was clear that I was now only going to be an advisor, and I wish I had known so I could have avoided letting them down in such a profound way. They finally dispersed arguing amungst themselves. This could get ugly. Very ugly...
I have to decide if I want to distribute the guns that I had stolen from the gunsmith/hunting store. I don't want the community to be as unstable it is and be armed with guns, but I also don't want to be victim to these food-hoarding marauders. They may have guns of their own but also may not.
I figure I should if only because Marci and I have guns, and that means that we have no right to tell anybody else they can't have the same as us. But I don't want to deal with the consequences if somebody I give one to can't be trusted. I can't dwell on this much longer today.
Marci has stopped bleeding so badly, but is still badly injured. She has been changing her dressings every day and I've picked up a few supplies for her, more gauze, bandage, and tape, as well as crutches and antibiotics.
She only uses one crutch and has little time for pain, it seems. She clearly doesn't seem to be about to let the wound hold her back, even though it will clearly leave her with a pretty unique limp. The cut was deep and clearly caused muscle damage.
I'm going to radio Abel and tell him about what's gone on and see if he can help in town or here.
