He's unconscious and he's probably lost a couple fingers and toes to frostbite, but he's alive.
I see he's published one of my journals. Can't really see why. It's not like the fact that they fight against one another sometimes is all that big of a news flash to anybody who's involved in any of this. Maybe it was to him, though. As far as I know, this is the first time he's ever really dealt with any of this in person.
I guess I should explain a little about what's really been going on, though.
This is Christie. Christie Waterman, you know, from the last journal, even if that was written a few years back. Phil and James and me have all been Runners for about ten years now, about as long as we've been writing up those journals and sending them to LB. We grouped up when we crossed paths in Pennsylvania and James told us about how the Cold Boy loves to pick off people who are isolated and alone. About a year later we met LB, living in this little shithole of a house in southern Indiana.
He got a bigger house eventually and built his archives in the basement, behind a couple false walls and stuff like that. They were basically a military-grade bunker full of filing cabinets, not that many of them ever got filled. He's probably got more information compiled in there than anybody else ever has, even those Topography Center guys (but the stuff he's got isn't exactly rigorously tested scientific data, so if you guys are looking for stuff that's guaranteed accurate - or at least as accurate as you can get with these things - I'd still go with them). Or he did, anyway. The Blind Man was kind of in a frenzy when we dragged him out. I guess most of it's probably gone now, but we've got a couple backpacks full of the "important stuff", all the files he had piled up around his little makeshift bed, and we're taking them with us. Along with the old man, of course.
He's going to slow us down by a hell of a lot, though. Walks with a cane, wears Coke-bottle glasses, wasn't in the best shape even when he was younger 'cause he smokes too much, all that stuff. But we're not leaving him. He's one of us now, a Runner, and we don't leave other Runners to get eaten or whatever the hell it is the Blind Man does when he takes you. Erases you from existence, maybe. That's a good way to get the Choir down on you, or the "Whispering Judges", whatever the old man is calling them.
That Thaddeus guy he kept referring to, the Proxy, saw us coming in to rescue him and tried to attack us, but we shot at him once or twice and scared him off. Three heavily-armed Runners, even dragging along a barely-conscious old man, is a little much for any Proxy with a brain. Yes, even the ones with weird powers. If you know what you're doing, as long as you're using the buddy system, you should be all right. You can at least get away.
Anyway. He's out now, and he's going with us. Even if he's as old and feeble as he looks, he's a smart guy. Played Thaddeus like a fiddle, at least. He knew he was being hunted by the Fears, as well as Thaddeus, and he knew that the only way to get out of it was to become a Runner, but he knew Thaddeus was in the area and couldn't just leave the house because the guy was looking for him. So he started up this blog, letting Thaddeus know he was in the house so he'd set up camp outside. So we knew where Thaddeus would be when we came in to rescue him, which is a really good thing, because that fucker is fond of ambushing you with a knife, and if he gets in close you're pretty much doomed.
And if nothing else, the old man's got balls. It must have been ten below in the archives, and the Blind Man was walking up and down the aisles the whole time. And he was still ready to use the shotgun if we had turned out to be Proxies, or even one of the Fears. I know I would probably have cracked, staying isolated for that long with not one but two of them breathing down my neck. But he's fine, even if I think the Blind Man got the bit of memory that told him we were coming. That would be why he started to crack last time. He forgot the cavalry was on its way.
Anyway. He's out, we're out, I think we wounded Thaddeus, it's not cold where we are now, and there's none of that goddamn howling that the Blind Man gives off. We even got the files he thought were most important, 'cause he kept them piled up next to his mattress for easy access. We're on the run again, and we're going to be all right, I think.
The only thing I'm kind of worried about is the sparkly stuff on the floor he mentioned in his last post. It wasn't ice. There was no water in there to freeze. It was broken glass, and I have no idea where the hell it came from or why it was there. But, for now, I think we're okay.