Everything seemed to be moving along perfectly. Our convoys encountered little resistance which was subsequently dispatched. Well into our 3rd week at Alpha Base, we have enough food and water to last us several months. Taking an extended convoy to nearby cities, we raided every piece of ammunition we could find. All in all it was a risky maneuver which cost us nearly 15 lives, however, it a good leader must learn the difference between using lives and wasting lives. The amount of lives that will be saved thanks to their sacrifice is a good use of their lives. They volunteered for the convoy, they knew the risks, they would agree with me. If everything continues as it has been we will be able to last for several months, if not longer.
Right around the one month mark, morale was high, casualties were minor, and people were seeing a glimpse of a normal life once again. That was, until, the unexpected had happened. Despite all of our efforts to prepare for everything, one obvious thing had slipped through the cracks. I believe it was a Tuesday, we had a mother and a child, a little boy who couldn't be no older than 8. Our guards had stopped them before they reached the first fence, almost shot them on sight if it wasn't for them screaming that they weren't zombies. I had forgotten to implement a plan to deal with outside survivors. The guards quickly called me down there to remedy the situation. I quickly deliberated with my inner circle on whether or not we should help them, or send them away. Should we give them supplies, guns, ammo? We had decided to let them stay after they have been disinfected and interrogated. This decision was met with both agreement and hostility. I announced our actions at our bi-weekly meeting and I watched the crowd split in two before my very eyes. The debate was very heated, several fights erupted and were stopped, however my decision had been made and there was no room for negotiation. The mother was questioned about their survival, how they had made it this long with no weapons, apparently just sheer luck, sticking to the woods, living off the land.
The people will still split on my decision, it seemed as though a civil war was well in the making. I decided that this would pass after the two outsiders proved themselves worthy of the risk. After discussing this with the mother, Emily, I had told her that she would need to work twice as hard as anyone else to be accepted. She had understood quite well and agreed to work as hard as she could. Washing people clothes, cooking, cleaning, she did it all and was slowly winning people over.
She had agreed so easily, I had figured that it was because she was just happy to have a social and safe place to stay, I was wrong. She had insisted that she be the one to disinfect her son, Brandon, which I saw no problem with. I never thought about the possibility that she was hiding something. I would not learn the error of my actions until one fated night 4 days after they were allowed into Alpha Base.