I imagine that I have at least three more days travel at this rate. I am going to have to use even more caution in the morning when I leave this tower. I have noticed about a dozen walkers that seem to be just hanging around in the area. These also looked fresh, but not anybody that I recognized. Also, even though it was getting dark, a couple looked like they were wea
ring uniforms. Maybe the NAA suffered some losses here. No matter…one zombie is pretty much like the next.
I have stopped early today because that blaring horn started again, the same one that I was hearing back at the Interstate 5/Highway 217 Corridor junction. The timing is the same as far as how spaced apart the blasts are, and there was a period of time where it went silent. When it restarted, it was closer and to the south of my location. I don’t know what it is…but it is ma
king me jumpy.
Thursday, October 16
th
The NAA is definitely still active in the Corridor. I reached another section that had the wall torn down. A piece of the puzzle might have fallen into place. The section torn down reveals a rather wide road. Since no signs are in place, I have no idea what road that could be, but it is very large and shows sign of some sort of recent use. There are wide track marks and an obvious trail cut through the debris and overgrown vegetation.
Also, there looks to have been some sort of large encam
pment just down at the bottom of the hill here. There are still a few tents in place. I didn’t see any activity, but that does not mean there are not people. I have managed to stay low and am very conscious about using as much cover as possible when I move.
This section of Corridor 26 is where a lot of the farms are located. I have passed several of the fields, but nobody is wor
king them. That does not bode well. If the winter crops are left untended, it could mean rough times even if we did manage to repel the NAA.
One of the other terrible things is that our horses are gone. There are a handful of stables along the route and they are all empty. Most of the buildings themselves are burned down. I just wish I understood why all of this is happening.
I have come to the conclusion that the initial train that arrived and attacked Corridor 26 that first night was nothing more than a leading edge of an attack. It is sort of like when a herd arrives; there are always a bunch of walkers that, for whatever reason, seem to be just a bit faster than the main body. I am now convinced that we have suffered from a major attack that was vastly more far-reaching than just the hit on our little area around the Sunset Fortress.
The only reason for this is malice. It just can’t be anything else. I only pray that when I reach Warehouse City, that they have been able to withstand whatever attacks have been thrown at them.
Friday, October 17
th
I am still hiding out in the same tower. I now fear that there might not be anything but death and destruction at the end of this journey. However, I must see Warehouse City for myself.
My day started with sounds that took me a while to identify. Once I did, I had to force myself to take a peek. I heard shouts and cries and all sorts of commotion. I also heard horses!
What I saw has me doubting that I will find anything good at the end of this journey. There was a long line of people shackled together. They were all in leg chains besides having their hands manacled. The entire line was connected one to the other by a heavy looking chain that was connected to each person’s waist.
If I would have thought to count, I imagine that I would have eventually stopped. Yes, the line was that long. Uniformed men—presumably the NAA—were acting as escorts. They were not shy about hitting people with clubs or lashing them with whips.
One scene in particular will never be erased from my memory. One of the soldiers on horseback climbed down when a person fell and could not get up. He unlocked the waist chain and pulled the young girl from the group. I could hear people begging and pleading. I couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like somebody was even offering to carry the girl. None of that mattered. He blew a whistle and a cage on wheels was brought forward. I really hadn’t paid them any attention because there were a few of those types of carts all covered with tarps being pulled along by draft horses.
The girl was hoisted up and the tarp removed. Inside were several zombies. I could tell, even from here, that many were fresh. A long pole was used to lift the trap door on top. The girl was tossed in! At first there was nothing…then I heard a cry…then…
the
scream. Because of the cramped confines of the cage, only a couple looked to have been able to fall on the girl. I swear that I saw a small form rise to its unsteady feet just before they put the tarp back over the wagon. It was a while before the sobs and cries faded from where I could hear them.
From the tower, I had a clear enough view to see that they exited the Corridor at that open gap I spied earlier where the camp, or remnants of a camp, is sitting. I
cannot imagine why they would take people like this. I know I’ve said it before, but none of this makes any sense to me.
All day, I stayed put. For one, the caravan of prisoners—or whatever they are—took a long time to pass. By the time they did, it was getting dark. The weather has been miserable all day with dark clouds and lots of rain. That brought nightfall on even earlier than normal.
Just before the shadows all merged and darkness fell, I saw the first snowflake fall. It was big and heavy. It more plummeted than drifted to the ground. That poses a new problem. If it snows tonight in any amount, I will be easy to find. There will be no hiding. Therefore…if I leave the tower…I cannot stop until I reach Warehouse City.
Sunday, October 19
th
I have found a place in the woods well north of Warehouse City. It is an abandoned farm house set back in some trees. The years have been kind to this place. Other than mold and rot, the place is in good shape.
It was obviously cleaned out years ago. There is nothing i
nside this place but garbage and broken bits of furniture. I have to take some time and decide what to do.
Obviously the idea of any sort of attack is ridiculous. Ser
iously…how did people watch movies like that where one person (usually that big guy with the weird accent) would storm someplace all by himself and kill hundreds with a machinegun that he never needed to reload?
From what I saw, Warehouse City put up a heck of a fight…but they fell to the NAA. There is a large flag hanging from a pole in the center of town, and I will get back to that in a moment.
Many of the structures look to have suffered from horrific fires. It looks like this place fell a while ago. There is already a considerable amount of repair going on. It would appear that the NAA is not planning on leaving any time soon.
The famous wall of trailers that Sam wrote about remains intact. That area inside the giant square is Warehouse City’s nerve center. It is where the government meets; it is where other community’s leaders are brought when trading agreements are signed. It is also where the hospital and the schools are located. It remains intact, but considering the fact that I see a few dozen soldiers walking atop the reinforced structure, it is safe to a
ssume that it is now where the NAA have taken up residence.
Of course then there are the things that I saw that told me the situation is not going well down there at all. First, there are three gallows in the park that was once the giant parking lot of the original warehouse complex that gave birth to this little city. There are several bodies still hanging from the nooses. Also, there is an open pen with several hunched over and heavily bu
ndled figures that are clustered together (obviously trying their best to stay warm). I saw a few people taken from—as well as a few shoved in—that pen.
There are other things that bear noting. Besides the rail where a train now sits on the edge of the small city, there are several armored vehicles. I have no idea how they operate, but I saw one roll in just as I had dug in to some thick brush to set up my initial observation of the place. It actually moved slower than a good horse-drawn wagon, and it was strange sounding the way it chugged and sputtered in a rhythmic growl.
There is a giant nozzle mounted on top. I have no way to be sure, but I would be willing to bet that it is some sort of flame-throwing device. I have seen four similar vehicles parked around Warehouse City. I am reminded of an anthill when I look down there. Only, it has been invaded by an army of hostile ants that, instead of killing all of the inhabitants, have decided to put them to work.
From my observation point, I have noticed activity non-stop. The repairs and rebuilding of things damaged in what must’ve been a tremendous invasion are being done by the cit
izens who called Warehouse City their home. When they drop, they are dragged to one side and left to lay there. Some eventually get up and disappear. I imagine they return sooner or later…assumedly by force. Some do not get up and the landscape is decorated with lumps in the snow. Nobody is being allowed to collect the bodies.
As for the flag…that is where I have been forced to consider what I must do. The flag is the symbol. It is the symbol agreed upon by Jenifer, Meredith…and Dominique that day in the the
ater. It now is painted in black on a white sheet and fluttering on the flag pole in the center of the town.
I must now consider whether they are still seeking Mer
edith…or if they are possibly aware of my existence. In any case, I must now decide whether or not to go down there.
Monday, October 20
th
I think I saw Mama Lindsay today. If my eyes were not playing tricks, I saw her and Jenifer being led from a building near the center of town up and into the actual center complex. The only reason I even noticed is because the only people to come and go through the gate at any time were the ones wearing the uniforms of the NAA.
I spent the rest of the day afraid to move or take my eyes off of the area. For a while, I fixated on the door they disappeared into, but then I realized that they wouldn’t necessarily need to come in and out of the same door. So, I kept scanning all day.
I did witness another one of those flamethrower nozzle vehicles roll in. Also, just before dark, a line of shackled prisoners were brought into the area. They didn’t bother taking them anywhere special; they simply shoved them all in that holding pen.
So far, from what I have been able to observe, there are groups of soldiers scouring the area and bringing in herds of prisoners from all over. Some of those prisoners—for reasons that I
cannot even begin to guess—are then chained up and escorted out. I imagine that, since they are heading out in the same direction, they are taking them to that other opening they made in the wall.
I almost didn’t want to leave for the night because I was te
rrified that I would miss seeing if it was, in fact, Mama Lindsay and Jenifer. However, a strong wind kicked up and the mix of freezing rain and snow started coming down. It just became too cold and miserable. I will return before first light.
Wednesday, October 22
nd
About an hour ago, another train arrived. It unloaded what began to look like an endless supply of soldiers. It honestly would have been a little bit funny were it not such a serious matter. The only way that many people could have been in each of those cars is for them to have all been standing and packed in tight.
However, it was the very last car on that train that has my attention now. It is different from the box cars. It looks like an armored trailer or something. There are those flamethrower no
zzles in the front and back mounted in swiveling turrets. Five soldiers were riding on top of that car, and even from here I could see that they were bristling with weapons.
Nobody has come out of that car, but I saw a handful of people leave the fortified center of Warehouse City and actually meet the train when it arrived. They were escorting Jenifer. I am certain it was her that they took under guard to that train. She was in chains, but I could tell that there was something wrong with the way she was walking. I believe she may be hurt bad.
I stayed until I could not take the cold any longer. As it is, I am huddled in the bathroom of this old farmhouse with a fire going in the old bathtub. It is so smoky that I keep coughing and choking, but I am so cold. I have kept my fires small up to now, but the temperature has plummeted, and staying hunkered down in my sleeping bag while I am out there observing, I am chilled to the core. I don’t know if I will ever be warm again. It got so bad at one point that I almost considered walking down there and surrendering myself just on the chance that I could stand next to one of the five barrels they have burning in that open prisoner compound.
About the prisoners. With it being so cold, many of the prisoners have been taken inside one of the buildings. However, there are still twenty or thirty figures milling about. Barrels or not, they have to be freezing.
I have not written much because I have stayed out well past dark the past couple of days and then gotten up before the sunrise to be back in position.