Kevin Journal 18

After a few weeks in a prison camp, it’s interesting how you find it’s bearable. I’d forgotten how much better I felt while we were trying to survive in comparison to being ‘safe’ and unable to make any choices for myself. I can’t really call it evil – but what the place did was provide an environment where evil people could thrive.

I suppose I should back up a bit. The last letter I wrote, I’ve been carrying in my pocket, to minimize the chances of VOPA reading it. I haven’t written since, because we were plotting a rescue. Tabitha was being held prisoner, for ‘testing’. Medical tests, and relatively non-invasive, but they kept her locked in a cell and controlled pretty thoroughly. I admit, I don’t quite follow their reasoning: she’d have been glad to cooperate without the coercion, but they didn’t want to risk the very thing that ended up happening: nobody liked seeing her thrown in a cell and (figuratively) dissected, so they rescued her — and we all left at once. It really required a lot of people working together. Grimm found us a place to hide. Dr. Rivet cooperated for long enough to learn something and get Tabitha out. Mr. Ross (her father) coordinated everything. I really don’t know what all everybody did – but we got out because we worked together. Me, I was just the mule: the carrier of messages and (minor) equipment.

Of course, this means our next encounter with VOPA will be even less pleasant. They kind of need to do exactly what they advertise, or full-on gestapo. We need to prove we can survive on our own, not just living off the leavings of the dead.

Heh — sorry, I find I philosophize a lot, the more of these letters I write. What we do is pretty small, but I find myself looking for reasons more and more often. None of what I’m saying seems to be really complete, and none of these people we’re meeting are ‘good’ or ‘evil’. But they do some pretty evil things, and I can’t quite follow why they bother.


Kevin Journal 18

Rise of the Dead kettle Dervish