Day One Hundred Ten:
I don’t like this. I know I should. I should love the fact that I don’t have to look over my shoulder every day to make sure that some deranged monster isn’t going to try to destroy me. I know I should love being able to let my hair down and relax.
But I don’t.
I think this level of comfort, this complacency is more dangerous than any ex-hume we have crossed so far. It is amazing how quickly the mind can trick itself into feeling “safe” and the defenses it will drop or forget about as a result. Used to be we would all only travel in pairs, with loaded weapons, in a fucking tank. Maybe not the tank part, but close enough.
Now, well now everyone thinks that because we haven’t seen any ex-humes in a while, that they must not exist. But they do. Millions upon millions upon millions of them do exist and they are breeding and possibly learning. Learning what? Maybe learning to swim their evil bodies over to our little sanctuary and rip us to pieces, who knows?
Josh is trying to figure out coordinates, Aj is off making himself a margarita or something, and Victor is busy doing whatever it is that Victor does… I am cleaning my guns, watching the shore, and getting ready. Ready for what? Exactly.
