Free Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family by Chris Philbrook Page B

meals prepared for us.
    It’s like time has rewound several hundred years. All the men are out toiling, breaking our backs, working all day, risking our lives, and the women have stayed back, and are tending to all the things that don’t seem to require broad shoulders, and a penis. I know that sounds dickish, and it isn’t entirely true. Angela and Abby as well as Patty do as much labor/dangerous shit as any of the men do, if not more. It’s not a hard and fast rule, but I find it strange that our culture and day to day habits seem to have regressed so far, so fast.
    I wonder if this is part of the grand plan? I wonder if the powers that be want us to live a simpler, old fashioned life? Although if that’s the case, how do we explain our gay friends, and the amount of women who shirk the roles of the past?  
    Shrug.
    Alright, so where were we Mr. Journal? Ah, right. What the fuck is going on here? Well our two most impressive recent accomplishments are the following:
    Martin is a welding fiend. We got his welding gear setup down in the maintenance garages and within 40 hours or less of starting work on the HRT’s upgrades, they are done already. Not only are they done already, but he did more shit than we asked for or could’ve even imagined.
    The front of the truck now has a spare plow blade affixed that sits about six inches off the ground. We can hit undead at full speed now, and they’ll just fly off the front of the truck like a snow drift. Very exciting.
    Keeping the weight of the vehicle in mind, Martin welded a few steel plates into the doors of the cab so if we take fire, the doors will be much more bullet resistant. He also welded small plates over the windows, as well as putting a pretty nifty lever in on the back door so once the iron bar is swung into place and latched, getting that door open will require The Hulk, or an act of fucking God.
    He also welded some bolts over the rear wheel wells that have twin matching thin steel plates that slide into place to cover the wheels. It’ll dramatically cut down on the chance of the rear wheels getting cut or blown out, and it should stop light small arms fire. I’m thinking 9mm, or .45 ACP or less will just splash off the steel. Might not make a bit of difference at all, but I know I FEEL better seeing all that shiny metal attached to the HRT.
    So… fucking awesome. Even Blake had to applaud all the shit Martin did. There was no way Blake was skilled enough to make all that happen, especially over the course of just a couple days in the shop. Blake’s been working on it in his spare time for what seems like forever, and he had nothing to show for it other than a grand plan. Martin had two days, designed everything, cut everything, mounted everything, and now tomorrow he’s back on fence duty with us. Cut and goddamn dried.
    While Martin was up to that, Blake was working on the fuel filtration I’d asked him to do. To his credit, he has been balls deep in the project, and he’s making great headway. Periodically he does need to yank someone to lend him a hand, but that’s fine. Lifting and moving the barrels is a bitch, even with the barrel dolly we have. He simply can’t move 55 gallon barrels and do all the other work and get shit done in an effective manner. Hence, we lend him some brute force labor in the form of someone else for a bit. I know Blake has been happy to get the social interaction. I also know everyone that’s gone down to the filter setup to help him is entirely fed the fuck up with hearing how awesome his little baby boy is.
    New dad, right?
    Oh shit I totally forgot to mention that Martin has an idea for a new project. Remember when we hit The Farm, and we took their horse/cow trailer? Martin is thinking with enough scrap steel/iron, and some raw materials, he can get that trailer more or less turned into a moving gun ship. We can latch it onto the dualie with no sweat, and drag the trailer slowly into heavily infested areas, and