11:00 P.M. We made our way into Winchester today. It looks much like every other city and town I've been through so far, dead and empty. There wasn't much as far as supplies went, and we couldn't find a confiscated stockpile either. This place was stripped clean.
However, we did find a decent camper. Small enough for the Scout to pull, but big enough for the three of us. The other thing we found is a tremendous amount of bird bones. It seemed like they were everywhere we looked. On roofs, on top of cars, scattered across the ground...
Bird bones and feathers everywhere. It's an eerie sight, that's for sure. In fact, the whole town gives me the creeps, and Josey too. We made camp on the outskirts, and planned on an early departure.
Kevin and I hunted down a pair of cottontails for supper. We were lucky to find them, because game seems to be pretty scarce around here. Livestock too, which seems odd. I've run across plenty of cows, goats, and sheep in my journey so far, as well as pigs (both feral and domesticated). But around here they are non-existent. Sets the mind to wondering if there's not a fairly large population hidden nearby. Dogs do their damage on livestock, but not big stuff like cattle. And now that I think of it, we haven't seen any dogs around here. Cats either. Until now, I've seen plenty of cats. But they were never a concern, so I never made mention of them...
Josey roasted those rabbits to perfection, and heated up some canned veggies from their stash to make the meal. It was wonderful to me (in an odd sort of way, given my isolation over the past months) to share a meal with other people. It almost felt surreal, like it wasn't really happening. Like it was some kind of dream, and I would soon wake to find myself alone again. And my thoughts turned toward my lost Jenny. My God, I'd nearly forgotten her. I've been through so much that I've become hardened and cold, but now I'm filled with sorrow over my Jenny. I haven't had time to grieve I suppose, but now it's caught up to me.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
May 8, 2012
10:00 P.M. I learned a little today from Josey and Kevin. They were from the outskirts of a small town in Alabama called Butler, and they picked up on my trail as I neared Birmingham.
The disease killed everyone in their town, and their story is a lot like mine. Josey's husband, Dale, died in her arms while Kevin watched helplessly. Food riots, government confiscation, all that, same as what I went through. Josey and Kevin also noted the large number of birds that died before, during, and after the human deaths began.
They packed what they could into Dale's old hunting truck (the Scout, after taking it back from the now dead sheriff), and set off in search of survivors. They headed west at first, since they had family in Baton Rouge. But then they spotted me making my way eastward. They'd seen enough to tell them that finding their family alive was unlikely, so they decided to follow me from a distance. Unsure of who I was, not knowing my intentions, and afraid I might be infectious, they shadowed me until I was taken by.... whoever it was that took me.
While they tried their best to track my captors, they lost them. For weeks they searched, but couldn't find me. Just when they were about to give up, it was I who found them.
So now I know for sure that there are others out there. Some who want something from us survivors, and others who are fighting them. I suppose it raises more questions than answers, but at least I know that I'm not alone anymore, and there are people on my side.
We travelled a bit today, and are now camped on the outskirts of the small city of Winchester. Tomorrow we'll head into town to look for supplies, and a larger vehicle. A camper would be nice too...
The disease killed everyone in their town, and their story is a lot like mine. Josey's husband, Dale, died in her arms while Kevin watched helplessly. Food riots, government confiscation, all that, same as what I went through. Josey and Kevin also noted the large number of birds that died before, during, and after the human deaths began.
They packed what they could into Dale's old hunting truck (the Scout, after taking it back from the now dead sheriff), and set off in search of survivors. They headed west at first, since they had family in Baton Rouge. But then they spotted me making my way eastward. They'd seen enough to tell them that finding their family alive was unlikely, so they decided to follow me from a distance. Unsure of who I was, not knowing my intentions, and afraid I might be infectious, they shadowed me until I was taken by.... whoever it was that took me.
While they tried their best to track my captors, they lost them. For weeks they searched, but couldn't find me. Just when they were about to give up, it was I who found them.
So now I know for sure that there are others out there. Some who want something from us survivors, and others who are fighting them. I suppose it raises more questions than answers, but at least I know that I'm not alone anymore, and there are people on my side.
We travelled a bit today, and are now camped on the outskirts of the small city of Winchester. Tomorrow we'll head into town to look for supplies, and a larger vehicle. A camper would be nice too...
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
May 7, 2012
9:30 P.M. That's right, I know the date and time now...
I woke up this morning, gathered up what little I had, and set off on the bicycle. Still in search of some form of transportation, and anything else I could find.
After riding for nearly five hours, pausing only to get a little something to eat from my pack, I noticed some movement between a couple buildings in the small town I was riding through. Didn't think much of it at first, maybe some dogs or other animals. Maybe something stirred by the breeze. But something made me turn around and head for that spot.
It was a narrow little alley, filled with trash and debris, ending in a fence between the buildings. I got off the bike and cautiously walked down the alley with my pistol in my hand. Nothing was there. I was just about to turn around when I saw it: a faint boot print on one of the fence boards! Fresh as could be.
So I climbed over the fence. Another alley between some buildings. And another partial boot print on a piece of cardboard...
I ran out to the street, looked both ways, and saw nothing. Across the street, there was a park. A pond, lots of trees, benches, picnic tables... And an old International Scout, which had decided to get cantankerous on the person who was trying to start it.
Not to spook them, I crept through the trees rather than sprinting over like I wanted to. The Scout was not going to start any time soon. Never hit a lick as it was cranked over.
About 30 yards away, I stopped and quietly watched as a young man exited the truck, looked around nervously, and raised the hood. He was soon joined by the passenger, an older woman. Both were dressed in camo, and had dirt smeared on their faces. The young man fiddled under the hood while the woman kept a lookout. She had a bolt rifle in her hands, and she looked like she meant business.
I watched them for five minutes or so, then decided to make my move. Knowing full well that I was putting my life in that woman's hands, I grasped my pistol by the barrel, put my hands in the air, and slowly walked out from behind the tree that hid me.
Instantly, that rifle was aimed at me, and I stopped. She said not a word... The young man pulled out a revolver nearly as fast, and crouched in front of the truck. Also without a word.
For what seemed like forever, I just stood there, hands in the air and holding my pistol by the barrel. Finally, I had to say something.
"I don't mean any harm."
Then I slowly knelt down and set the pistol on the ground. The young man stood up, and the woman slowly raised her rifle. I stood up and backed away from the pistol; something which seemed suicidal to me at the time, but also the right thing to do.
The woman approached me, while the young man remained by the truck, revolver at the ready. She stopped maybe twenty feet shy, and just looked at me with her piercing eyes. When she finally spoke, it was to tell me to drop my pack, kneel down with my ankles crossed, empty my pockets, then put my hands on my head. This I did, very slowly.
When I finished, she asked me to stand up again, hands on my head. She walked around me a couple times. Then she withdrew a pistol from her holster, slung the rifle, and patted me down. With the pistol pressed to my chest over my heart...
She asked me who I am, and I told her. For the next few minutes, she grilled me. I suppose I was so happy just to hear another human voice that I was almost laughing when I answered. After I finished telling her of my captivity, and the strange circumstances of my release, I saw those piercing eyes soften a bit, and a look of understanding came over her face. Then she told me to gather up my things, and asked if I knew anything about diesel engines...
Her name is Josey, and the young man is her son Kevin. Turns out it was they who were my shadows. They were just about to make contact with me before I was taken.
Their hesitance when I appeared was due to the fact that they were unsure of how I might behave after my capture. They didn't know what had happened to me. Quite understandable.
I did find the problem with their Scout; the rubber fuel line to the pump was old and brittle. It cracked, and let air into the injector pump and lines. One of those buildings I walked between was an auto parts store, so I went and fetched a length of hose. That replaced, and injectors bled, the old Scout fired right up.
We pitched camp here in the park, and we'll head out in the morning. Now there's three of us. There's got to be more.
More details tomorrow, now it's time to rest. I've got a lot more to write about...
I woke up this morning, gathered up what little I had, and set off on the bicycle. Still in search of some form of transportation, and anything else I could find.
After riding for nearly five hours, pausing only to get a little something to eat from my pack, I noticed some movement between a couple buildings in the small town I was riding through. Didn't think much of it at first, maybe some dogs or other animals. Maybe something stirred by the breeze. But something made me turn around and head for that spot.
It was a narrow little alley, filled with trash and debris, ending in a fence between the buildings. I got off the bike and cautiously walked down the alley with my pistol in my hand. Nothing was there. I was just about to turn around when I saw it: a faint boot print on one of the fence boards! Fresh as could be.
So I climbed over the fence. Another alley between some buildings. And another partial boot print on a piece of cardboard...
I ran out to the street, looked both ways, and saw nothing. Across the street, there was a park. A pond, lots of trees, benches, picnic tables... And an old International Scout, which had decided to get cantankerous on the person who was trying to start it.
Not to spook them, I crept through the trees rather than sprinting over like I wanted to. The Scout was not going to start any time soon. Never hit a lick as it was cranked over.
About 30 yards away, I stopped and quietly watched as a young man exited the truck, looked around nervously, and raised the hood. He was soon joined by the passenger, an older woman. Both were dressed in camo, and had dirt smeared on their faces. The young man fiddled under the hood while the woman kept a lookout. She had a bolt rifle in her hands, and she looked like she meant business.
I watched them for five minutes or so, then decided to make my move. Knowing full well that I was putting my life in that woman's hands, I grasped my pistol by the barrel, put my hands in the air, and slowly walked out from behind the tree that hid me.
Instantly, that rifle was aimed at me, and I stopped. She said not a word... The young man pulled out a revolver nearly as fast, and crouched in front of the truck. Also without a word.
For what seemed like forever, I just stood there, hands in the air and holding my pistol by the barrel. Finally, I had to say something.
"I don't mean any harm."
Then I slowly knelt down and set the pistol on the ground. The young man stood up, and the woman slowly raised her rifle. I stood up and backed away from the pistol; something which seemed suicidal to me at the time, but also the right thing to do.
The woman approached me, while the young man remained by the truck, revolver at the ready. She stopped maybe twenty feet shy, and just looked at me with her piercing eyes. When she finally spoke, it was to tell me to drop my pack, kneel down with my ankles crossed, empty my pockets, then put my hands on my head. This I did, very slowly.
When I finished, she asked me to stand up again, hands on my head. She walked around me a couple times. Then she withdrew a pistol from her holster, slung the rifle, and patted me down. With the pistol pressed to my chest over my heart...
She asked me who I am, and I told her. For the next few minutes, she grilled me. I suppose I was so happy just to hear another human voice that I was almost laughing when I answered. After I finished telling her of my captivity, and the strange circumstances of my release, I saw those piercing eyes soften a bit, and a look of understanding came over her face. Then she told me to gather up my things, and asked if I knew anything about diesel engines...
Her name is Josey, and the young man is her son Kevin. Turns out it was they who were my shadows. They were just about to make contact with me before I was taken.
Their hesitance when I appeared was due to the fact that they were unsure of how I might behave after my capture. They didn't know what had happened to me. Quite understandable.
I did find the problem with their Scout; the rubber fuel line to the pump was old and brittle. It cracked, and let air into the injector pump and lines. One of those buildings I walked between was an auto parts store, so I went and fetched a length of hose. That replaced, and injectors bled, the old Scout fired right up.
We pitched camp here in the park, and we'll head out in the morning. Now there's three of us. There's got to be more.
More details tomorrow, now it's time to rest. I've got a lot more to write about...
Monday, February 7, 2011
Day Three
Late P.M. Spent the entire day scouring the countryside for suitable transportation. Aside from some old diesel tractors, and a bulldozer, I didn't find anything. All were either gas powered (most of the gasoline has gone bad by now), or electronic diesels, which are fried. I did find an old Mack truck, but it had thrown a rod.
I do have a bicycle now, which is certainly better than hoofing it. But I sure do wish I could get to my old diesel truck and camper. That was a great rig...
This part of the country was really ravaged. There are bird bones everywhere, and human bones too. It's like a scene from a Hitchcock story. One good thing is that there aren't too many dogs around. On the flip side, there isn't much small game either. I have seen some deer, as well as stray cattle and hogs though. I hate to waste large animals, but they are there if I need them.
The roads are pretty clear for the most part. Every now and then there's a semi flipped over, or blocking the road, but overall there's not much. I tried to start an old Scout, but it wouldn't fire. The gas had gone bad, as had the battery. Thirty seconds of cranking left it dead, just like it's former owner. I will not go into the details of that...
So tonight finds me taking refuge in an RV I came upon in a driveway along the road. I like RVs. Too many houses have corpses in them. Besides, the grid being down means there's no heat in those houses (unless they have a fireplace or wood stove), but the older RVs have propane furnaces that require no electricity. I'd rather not deal with the houses myself. Other than gathering supplies, I have no use for them. Too creepy, being in someone else's home. Especially if their remains are still there, which often they are.
Time to make some dinner from the goodies in my pack. It's been a long day, and I'm ready for some rest.
I do have a bicycle now, which is certainly better than hoofing it. But I sure do wish I could get to my old diesel truck and camper. That was a great rig...
This part of the country was really ravaged. There are bird bones everywhere, and human bones too. It's like a scene from a Hitchcock story. One good thing is that there aren't too many dogs around. On the flip side, there isn't much small game either. I have seen some deer, as well as stray cattle and hogs though. I hate to waste large animals, but they are there if I need them.
The roads are pretty clear for the most part. Every now and then there's a semi flipped over, or blocking the road, but overall there's not much. I tried to start an old Scout, but it wouldn't fire. The gas had gone bad, as had the battery. Thirty seconds of cranking left it dead, just like it's former owner. I will not go into the details of that...
So tonight finds me taking refuge in an RV I came upon in a driveway along the road. I like RVs. Too many houses have corpses in them. Besides, the grid being down means there's no heat in those houses (unless they have a fireplace or wood stove), but the older RVs have propane furnaces that require no electricity. I'd rather not deal with the houses myself. Other than gathering supplies, I have no use for them. Too creepy, being in someone else's home. Especially if their remains are still there, which often they are.
Time to make some dinner from the goodies in my pack. It's been a long day, and I'm ready for some rest.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Day Two
Early A.M. I've packed up the few things I have back into the PVC tube, and made a little sling out of some twine that was in there too. Whoever loaded this thing put some serious thought into it. I'm glad.
So, with stick of jerky in hand, and pistol in my waist band, I'm headed eastward. I hope that's the right way to go. I'll soon find out.
Around noon. I came to a clearing, and across the meadow I spied a small house back in some trees. I'm in it now. And I do believe this is where the cache must have come from. There is an empty gun cabinet (someone broke the glass and stole the guns) with a few .22 rounds laying in the bottom. Same brand as those in the cache. I also found more of the dryer lint/vaseline packets, and a short length of PVC pipe, same diameter as the cache.
Not much else here, but I did find a pair of boots that fit me fairly well, and a flannel jacket. Glad to have both of them. I'm still wearing my "prison garb", which is basically like hospital scrubs, and slip on shoes. I've had to stop every ten minutes it seems, to dump the twigs and rocks out of the shoes. The "scrubs" aren't much against the damp chill in the morning and at night.
Digging around in the basement, I found a "false pipe". What alerted me to it was the cleanout, it seemed to be in an odd place. I found a pipe wrench on a nearby work bench and unscrewed the cap. Inside was a sort of net "sock" which contained, joy of joys, canned food! He was even thoughtful enough to stash one of those old army can openers in there. I need to check this place out more thoroughly, I bet there's a few more hidey holes. This guy was smart...
Bingo! A false wall panel next to the stairs. Inside was a set of camo clothes, boonie hat, hiking boots, a scoped 30-06, ammo pouch with about 200 rounds, backpack loaded with food and gear, canteen... Basically everything one would need to set out on foot in a hurry. I'm guessing this guy died from the disease before he had the chance. Thank you, whoever you were. Your preparations were not wasted.
Late afternoon. Well, there was a watch in the pack, but it was digital. In other words, it's fried. But I do have binoculars, a compass, and perhaps best of all, a map! I now know that I am in northwestern Virginia, near a little town called Bridgewater.
Which means I need to find some wheels, because there's some pretty mountainous terrain in every direction. I'm also too close to Washington DC for my comfort. I don't know what's happened exactly, but given my "prison" experience, I've no doubt the government is involved somehow. Or some sort of powerful entity. Either way, the thought of being near DC is making the hair on my neck stand on end...
Time to make camp and eat something. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, I think.
So, with stick of jerky in hand, and pistol in my waist band, I'm headed eastward. I hope that's the right way to go. I'll soon find out.
Around noon. I came to a clearing, and across the meadow I spied a small house back in some trees. I'm in it now. And I do believe this is where the cache must have come from. There is an empty gun cabinet (someone broke the glass and stole the guns) with a few .22 rounds laying in the bottom. Same brand as those in the cache. I also found more of the dryer lint/vaseline packets, and a short length of PVC pipe, same diameter as the cache.
Not much else here, but I did find a pair of boots that fit me fairly well, and a flannel jacket. Glad to have both of them. I'm still wearing my "prison garb", which is basically like hospital scrubs, and slip on shoes. I've had to stop every ten minutes it seems, to dump the twigs and rocks out of the shoes. The "scrubs" aren't much against the damp chill in the morning and at night.
Digging around in the basement, I found a "false pipe". What alerted me to it was the cleanout, it seemed to be in an odd place. I found a pipe wrench on a nearby work bench and unscrewed the cap. Inside was a sort of net "sock" which contained, joy of joys, canned food! He was even thoughtful enough to stash one of those old army can openers in there. I need to check this place out more thoroughly, I bet there's a few more hidey holes. This guy was smart...
Bingo! A false wall panel next to the stairs. Inside was a set of camo clothes, boonie hat, hiking boots, a scoped 30-06, ammo pouch with about 200 rounds, backpack loaded with food and gear, canteen... Basically everything one would need to set out on foot in a hurry. I'm guessing this guy died from the disease before he had the chance. Thank you, whoever you were. Your preparations were not wasted.
Late afternoon. Well, there was a watch in the pack, but it was digital. In other words, it's fried. But I do have binoculars, a compass, and perhaps best of all, a map! I now know that I am in northwestern Virginia, near a little town called Bridgewater.
Which means I need to find some wheels, because there's some pretty mountainous terrain in every direction. I'm also too close to Washington DC for my comfort. I don't know what's happened exactly, but given my "prison" experience, I've no doubt the government is involved somehow. Or some sort of powerful entity. Either way, the thought of being near DC is making the hair on my neck stand on end...
Time to make camp and eat something. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, I think.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
A New Day
Some time in the early A.M. That's right! I know that is the approximate time, because I am now sitting in some woods, in a light fog, the sun just rising...
After the last explosion, one more small explosion blew the lock on my door. I had huddled in the corner, my mattress over top of me when I left off my last entry. The door blew, and when the dust cleared, I got up to look around. The door was part way open. So I cautiously peeked out into the corridor. It was still pretty dusty and smokey, but I saw no people. No motion at all.
Having gathered my wits, I headed down the corridor, where I found several more doors blown completely off their hinges. They led me to a stairwell, which opened up to a wooded area some fifty feet above. There was nothing but a small concrete structure which housed the door to the stairwell.
Once outside, I saw no one. Not even a trace of anyone. Nothing but the mist and the trees. I don't know who broke me out, or why. Or even if my release was their intention. All I know is that I am free once more, and I felt the need to document that fact, right now. That being done, I am out of here!
Around Noon: I've been going through the woods in a more or less easterly direction. Don't know why exactly; maybe because that's the way I had been travelling before my abduction. I haven't seen anything remarkable so far, which is a good thing I suppose. Onward...
Late afternoon: I've decided to stop and make camp. Nothing but woods so far, and I don't want to be stumbling through the woods after dark.
Night: Miracles never cease... I found some sort of "cache". The only reason I found it was because something didn't look quite right near a tree. The spot was just a bit too clear of undergrowth compared to the surrounding area. So I started digging, and soon found the top of a capped PVC pipe. Inside I found some beef jerky, matches, bottled water, candy, dryer lint smeared in petroleum jelly, a tarp, and a semi-auto .22, along with five loaded magazines.
So now I have a nice fire, and a bed of evergreen boughs, covered by the tarp. I've got food in my belly, and water. Don't know who left this cache here, but thank God I found it. Now if I could only find out where I am...
After the last explosion, one more small explosion blew the lock on my door. I had huddled in the corner, my mattress over top of me when I left off my last entry. The door blew, and when the dust cleared, I got up to look around. The door was part way open. So I cautiously peeked out into the corridor. It was still pretty dusty and smokey, but I saw no people. No motion at all.
Having gathered my wits, I headed down the corridor, where I found several more doors blown completely off their hinges. They led me to a stairwell, which opened up to a wooded area some fifty feet above. There was nothing but a small concrete structure which housed the door to the stairwell.
Once outside, I saw no one. Not even a trace of anyone. Nothing but the mist and the trees. I don't know who broke me out, or why. Or even if my release was their intention. All I know is that I am free once more, and I felt the need to document that fact, right now. That being done, I am out of here!
Around Noon: I've been going through the woods in a more or less easterly direction. Don't know why exactly; maybe because that's the way I had been travelling before my abduction. I haven't seen anything remarkable so far, which is a good thing I suppose. Onward...
Late afternoon: I've decided to stop and make camp. Nothing but woods so far, and I don't want to be stumbling through the woods after dark.
Night: Miracles never cease... I found some sort of "cache". The only reason I found it was because something didn't look quite right near a tree. The spot was just a bit too clear of undergrowth compared to the surrounding area. So I started digging, and soon found the top of a capped PVC pipe. Inside I found some beef jerky, matches, bottled water, candy, dryer lint smeared in petroleum jelly, a tarp, and a semi-auto .22, along with five loaded magazines.
So now I have a nice fire, and a bed of evergreen boughs, covered by the tarp. I've got food in my belly, and water. Don't know who left this cache here, but thank God I found it. Now if I could only find out where I am...
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Another Day
They've left me alone today. I've tried to keep track of time as best as I can, not having anything to go by but my mind, and the arrival of meals. Still couldn't tell you what day it is, or what time. Hell, not even what month...
It could still be April, or it might be July. They kept me disoriented until now, today being the first time they've not drugged me and taken me away to wherever it is they take me. I almost prefer the drugging, because now I'm just horribly bored.
Went over my body as much as possible, and found numerous needle marks, as well as a small scar on my abdomen, I presume in the vicinity of my liver (not being an anatomy student, I can only guess). They must've taken a biopsy or something. At least I hope that's all they did.
I feel well. Put on a little weight, being unable to exercise much more than jogging in place or doing push ups and sit ups. Hadn't done much of that either, most times being in a drug induced daze.
I am still amazed and intrigued as to why they're allowing me this journal. As far as I can tell, they haven't even read it when I was away. Maybe they're watching me right now as I write... I'd like to "rattle the cage" in some way, but there's nothing to rattle. The worst I could do in here is write on the wall. Everything is bolted down, and the bolts welded to that which they're holding in place. I can't reach the camera in the ceiling vent, and there's nothing for me to stand on so I could. If only I
There was just what sounded like a muffled explosion... YES! A second explosion! I more felt it than heard it, but they were explosions!
...What feels like several minutes has passed. I've not heard another sound. No one has come. Can't smell anything... Another explosion! Closer this time. I'm getting ready, something is about to happen.
It could still be April, or it might be July. They kept me disoriented until now, today being the first time they've not drugged me and taken me away to wherever it is they take me. I almost prefer the drugging, because now I'm just horribly bored.
Went over my body as much as possible, and found numerous needle marks, as well as a small scar on my abdomen, I presume in the vicinity of my liver (not being an anatomy student, I can only guess). They must've taken a biopsy or something. At least I hope that's all they did.
I feel well. Put on a little weight, being unable to exercise much more than jogging in place or doing push ups and sit ups. Hadn't done much of that either, most times being in a drug induced daze.
I am still amazed and intrigued as to why they're allowing me this journal. As far as I can tell, they haven't even read it when I was away. Maybe they're watching me right now as I write... I'd like to "rattle the cage" in some way, but there's nothing to rattle. The worst I could do in here is write on the wall. Everything is bolted down, and the bolts welded to that which they're holding in place. I can't reach the camera in the ceiling vent, and there's nothing for me to stand on so I could. If only I
There was just what sounded like a muffled explosion... YES! A second explosion! I more felt it than heard it, but they were explosions!
...What feels like several minutes has passed. I've not heard another sound. No one has come. Can't smell anything... Another explosion! Closer this time. I'm getting ready, something is about to happen.
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