Friends,

We find ourselves in a terrible situation. In Onondaga County, the zombies outnumber every one of us 500 to 1. Even with our perimeter fence, we will not withstand a massed attack come springtime.

We have been abandoned by the federal and state governments. The feds have moved west, into the Rocky Mountains, leaving us here to fend for ourselves. There will not be a rescue.

We are running out of food. The grocery stores are either picked bare or rotting. We are all hungry.

We are cold. A building this size with this much glass in it used to be expensive to heat. Now it is impossible. Our home provides us with nothing but shelter from the wind. In order to be warm, we must go outside into a Syracuse winter to huddle around a trashcan fire. The winds coming off Oneida Lake blow straight across the runways. It’s crazy.

The world is crazy. And it may never be sane again.

We live in a world where Syracuse of the early 21st century is a distant, glorious memory. Medicines were available at corner pharmacies. Cable TV brought 1200 channels. A thermostat would bring heat. Those days are gone. They will not ever be back. The next starting quarterback for the SU football team has not been born yet, and we will never cheer for him in the Dome. We long for the days of the glory of Syracuse.

I know. That sounds kind of funny, doesn’t it? It’s crazy.

The only thing that will save us is that we are crazier. We are crazy like foxes. We are smarter, stronger, and faster than our enemies. They want to devour us. We want to live. They come after us for their supper. We run for our lives. We will run and fight and build and live with the determination of the desperate and the security of the faithful.

The problems of the old city have been swept away and replaced with new challenges. Crimes are new. Hunger is more prevalent. Poverty is universal. Security must be tight. Curfews are enforced. Zack is everywhere. Death lurks under every pile of leaves and inside every parked car.

I will not be popular for the duty rosters I have established. I will not be loved for insisting that everyone must work and contribute. You will hate me because I will not run the generators at night for extra lights or allow you outside the fence after dark. I do not care. I was not elected in a popularity contest, but rather because I will lead you. I don’t care if you like me. I care that you are not one of them. If you can’t deal with that, the gate is that way. No one is forcing you to stay.

This winter will be the hardest in history. We are hungry and we are cold. We are weak. But this is no time to rest. Zack is weaker. Now we take the fight to him. Clipboard tells me that Corpse Corps is removing 1200 Z’s a day when the weather is below freezing but this number will be impossible to maintain long term. We are making significant pathways to the south and west, but each thaw means more Z’s back inside clear zones. We will continue to take the fight to him so that he cannot bring it back to us this spring even as his buddies come to visit from Boston, Hartford, Buffalo, Philadelphia, and the City.

We are cold. We are hungry. We are here. All we’ve got left is our brains and our hands and the unstoppable desire to use them to take our city back. And as long as I’m here, that will never change.

Friends, the state of the Blue Zone is not strong. But every day we live, every day we fight, every day we survive, we get stronger. Let’s take back our city, our county, our homes, and our lives. Let’s show the world that Upstate New Yorkers aren’t afraid of a few hundred thousand shambling corpses. If we die, we will not die from undead teeth, but like the human beings that we are, fighting to our last breaths. It’s crazy, I know. But I also know we’re crazy enough to do it.

No bites,

Brooks.