Chapter 2
We Are the Singing Dead
I have lost track of just how many days have passed. One day then another, Finn and Puck showed leadership in becoming top-notch scroungers. Rachel, Quinn and Britney care for our needs such as cleaning close and cooking. Santana living up to her Latin temper is turning the others into zombie fighters. The one that has surprised me the most is Kurt. He has taken to being a fighter of top-quality whose kill rate equals that of Santana. Artie proved himself to be quite adept at mechanical situations. He had told me all the practice he had fixing and repairing his wheelchair had proved to be a valuable experience. After fixing up a chair for him, the bus had been modified to allow him to be both our driver and transportation chief. Tina Chang had stepped up and became Artie's right-hand in keeping all of our vehicles running and ready to go in an instance. Everybody in our group was beginning to find a niche to contribute in some way shape or form. The roles of leadership fell to Mister Shuster and coach Sylvester. When a way from camp, everybody looked to Finn as a field general, taking the lead in any situation.
Sadly enough we lost Ms. Pillsbury. Her OCD just took its toll and left her in a catatonic state. She just couldn't stand the dirt and other conditions that we were forced to live under. One night she wandered off and raised a stir. Mister Shue and Kurt went in search of her. Their search only yielded bad news. This Pillsbury had been attacked by a zombie and was turned. Mister Shuster couldn't bear to end her curse. Kurt took charge and sent them away and did what was needed to do. They both returned to the camp in tears. I comforted Kurt while setting in our van. He just shook his head and uttered I just couldn't let Mister Shue live with the reality of what had to be done. Sleep overtook my dearest friend as he lay in my lap. Glancing out towards the campfire, I was shocked and surprised. Mister Shue and Sue were sitting and talking. The five time tough as nails cheerleading coach had her arm around will Shuster and was comforting him in his time of need. This proved to be very uncharacteristic and unpredictable but then again that's what life had become for our motley little group. Rachel gathered some of the girls and softly sang a ballad in tribute of Ms. Emma Pillsbury. To all she was considered to be a guiding source, a nurturing presence and sometimes comic relief in a stressful situation. When things got tough she would over exaggerate and OCD attack and bring everybody to laughs. Ms. Pillsbury you will be missed.
Our numbers were unfortunately dropping. We had lost quite a few people by surprise attacks or plain stupidity. Casey, a member of vocal adrenaline, became cocky and refused to listen to Finn. While taunting our field general, a zombie came up behind him and attacked. My Warbler friends that have survived were bathing in a stream and began a rousing rendition of "We Didn't Light the Fire". The sound drew unwanted company and they never stood a chance. Unknown to the others, I have been keeping a list in the back of my notebook of who we have lost and why. I had stated earlier that everybody found a niche, but unfortunately mine had become to chronicle our lives following that fateful day in Atlanta. The only one I have lit be privy to my notebooks has been my beloved, Kurt. It agrees that this is a necessary task because somebody has to remember what became of "The New Directions.