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.

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.

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...

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.

Date Still Unknown

I don't know how long it's been since I last wrote. The days all blur together since I have no reference to the passage of time. All I know is that I've been injected, knocked out, and awakened here in this cell several times since I last wrote.

I don't know what they're doing to me, or why. I don't know why I'm being held, or who is holding me. I see the same person every time, in that unknown military uniform. He has no distinguishing features. No hair to speak of, no scars, no tattoos... He never speaks. All I know is that his eyes are brown, and very cold. They show no emotion at all, not even hatred. Which is what I think they should show, for some reason...

They continue to feed me well, give me clean clothes and clean sheets. I have soap to wash up with, and clean towels to dry myself. Tooth brush and paste... But there is no stimulation. Nothing to look at but this gray cell and it's stainless steel fixtures. No light, other than artificial. Constant temperature, I guess around 68 degrees, which leads me to believe I'm under ground. It is slightly damp here.

I hear no sounds. No doors opening and closing, no voices, no air handlers... Only the sound of water running through pipes when I turn on the sink or flush the toilet. At no other time do I hear the water running. I only hear the footsteps of the soldier coming for me, and the door opening. It's really confounding. Disturbing. And worrisome.

What do they want? Why do they keep me here, isolated and alone? Nevermind what they're doing to me, those are the questions that haunt me.

Now it's time to go, I hear footsteps... 

Date Unknown

I don't know what time it is either, they took my watch. But for some inexplicable reason, they gave me my journal and a pen. Perhaps they want to read my thoughts when they come for me later.

I don't know where I am. It's a cell of sorts... Maybe 10 by 10... There's a cot, a toilet, a sink, and not much else. I do know there is a camera in the vent, and probably a microphone. 

I woke up in this cell. The last thing I remember was the Humvee approaching, then nothing. I guess I let my guard down, my desire to interact with another human being overwhelmed my survival instinct. And now I find myself a prisoner... I don't know what they're doing to me. Someone comes through the door, dressed in a military uniform, but with insignia which I don't recognize. They knock me out with an injection, not saying a word. Then I wake up, back in this cell. I don't know how much time passes. There are no windows. Can't even feel the walls warm up in the afternoon sun, could be underground for all I know. 

They do feed me, rather well in fact. But they mix up the meals (or so I think) in an effort to confuse me. I'll get a steak dinner, followed by a sandwich, then pancakes and sausage. Or any combination in between. Some days I get "lunch" three times. Or two breakfasts and a dinner. Or it could be that they've knocked me out again and that's just how I remember it...

I have not been beaten. "Studied" is more like it. When I wake in my cell, I usually have multiple needle marks on my arms and legs. But they do not speak to me, nor I to them. It's the same uniformed man who enters my cell each time; I've seen no one else. I've seen no where else... As far as I can tell, it's been three weeks that I've been here. I really don't know for sure, time has no meaning when you can't see the sun.

As best as I can figure, they want to know how I survived the disease. Maybe they think they can make a cure. Or maybe they want to prevent it. I have no way to know, but given the secrecy around here, I'd say it's the latter. I don't know anything beyond that, except for how I intended to finish my last entry, which was "so I'll put this aside for now." 

The sentence I didn't get to finish before the dart struck my arm. It came from behind me. The Humvee was a distraction. Damn my trusting nature... Hopefully this is not my last entry, and hopefully I find out what's going on. If not, I hope this journal winds up in somebody's hands, somebody who will pass on my story to someone else who survived. Who is free...

April 8, 2012

6:30 A.M. I was up early, anticipating my shadow's arrival. In fact, I can hear them coming now... Took a peak through the binoculars. Hard to make out in the early morning light, but it looks like a military Humvee. That makes me a bit nervous, but if they wanted to take me out, they could have done so many times over... Yes, it's definitely a Humvee. They're approaching slowly, in a non-threatening way. Still, I put my hand on my sidearm, just to make sure it's still there. My rifle is beside me.

I scanned around, nothing but the Humvee approaching. They're about a hundred yards away now, so I'll put thi