now regarded as myths.
The second day, we saw a few stragglers that we had to take down. I imagine that the train will attract plenty of attention and it will be us that will have to deal with it. Although, I did notice a few large number kills which is pretty smart. They would not want to bring a bunch of undead with them. By the time they reach their destination, it would be likely that they have a bit of trouble on their hands.
I don’t know why I didn’t just stick with the train tracks before when I made this trip. While there are spots that leave you exposed, those are easy to go around (so far). And even if they get tricky, I am sure that a person using their head can come to a solution that is workable. That is the key here…I will need to use my head. I cannot let my emotions get the best of me.
So much is swirling in my head, and as I look at the sleeping figures of Mary and Selina next to the fire, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed.
Tuesday, March 9 th
Today we thought we had caught up with them. Just outside of the actual city of Portland, heading east along the Columbia River, we spotted a train on the tracks that was not moving and surrounded by hundreds of the undead.
This was the point where the train actually crosses over into Washington. I guess that might be part of the reason why I did not take this route. If I would have crossed over, I’m not sure that I would have been able to get back. The bridge has been repaired since the dam farther up broke and sent who knows how much water this way, wiping out several small communities, but it was hit pretty hard and I don’t know if I would have been able to use it several months ago. Obviously Dominique’s people came in and took care of it since that event.
This bridge crosses at an island in the middle of the river that looks like it practically had a city on it judging by the ruins. I do not have any recollection of being out here, but Mary told me that several tribes live there and are not known for being too friendly to people who trespass.
That is not very encouraging because we are camped in a building that looks out at the Washington side of the river. From the looks, I think it is safe to assume that this place used to sell boats. There are what look like the remnants of docks and dozens of boat-related things everywhere. This little cove shows signs of that flood. Everything has been “washed” to the west as we look north from the dreary ruins of this building.
Mary did not bother to tell me until we made camp. I asked her why she waited and she said that she didn’t realize where we were until she was out gathering some wood for the fire. She led me to a tree where two bodies are hanging. I have no idea what the story is, but two soldiers from the NAA are dead, strung up by a hangman’s noose.
Have you ever walked in to the end of a conversation and wondered what the hell people were talking about because you hear something that is just so crazy. Well…that is what I am feeling right now. It doesn’t make sense. Two soldiers…just hanging from a tree. No signs of a big struggle…the bodies do not look like anything strange has been done—other than the hanging that is—and they don’t even have their hands tied.
The only thing good about camping here tonight is that Mary says there have not been any walkers on this island for over a decade.
Wednesday, March 10 th
I don’t think I slept all that well last night. I heard a lot of hoots and whistles and other strange noises. I was almost certain that we were going to end up getting grabbed by the people who call this island home.
When the sun broke, I felt silly…until we went to leave. There was a sign on the upside-down skeleton of a boat. It said simply: If you return…you die.
I guess Mary wasn’t kidding.
Thursday, March 11 th
We have been moving along without any real troubles since we left. Sure, we got a nasty note, but if that is
The second day, we saw a few stragglers that we had to take down. I imagine that the train will attract plenty of attention and it will be us that will have to deal with it. Although, I did notice a few large number kills which is pretty smart. They would not want to bring a bunch of undead with them. By the time they reach their destination, it would be likely that they have a bit of trouble on their hands.
I don’t know why I didn’t just stick with the train tracks before when I made this trip. While there are spots that leave you exposed, those are easy to go around (so far). And even if they get tricky, I am sure that a person using their head can come to a solution that is workable. That is the key here…I will need to use my head. I cannot let my emotions get the best of me.
So much is swirling in my head, and as I look at the sleeping figures of Mary and Selina next to the fire, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed.
Tuesday, March 9 th
Today we thought we had caught up with them. Just outside of the actual city of Portland, heading east along the Columbia River, we spotted a train on the tracks that was not moving and surrounded by hundreds of the undead.
This was the point where the train actually crosses over into Washington. I guess that might be part of the reason why I did not take this route. If I would have crossed over, I’m not sure that I would have been able to get back. The bridge has been repaired since the dam farther up broke and sent who knows how much water this way, wiping out several small communities, but it was hit pretty hard and I don’t know if I would have been able to use it several months ago. Obviously Dominique’s people came in and took care of it since that event.
This bridge crosses at an island in the middle of the river that looks like it practically had a city on it judging by the ruins. I do not have any recollection of being out here, but Mary told me that several tribes live there and are not known for being too friendly to people who trespass.
That is not very encouraging because we are camped in a building that looks out at the Washington side of the river. From the looks, I think it is safe to assume that this place used to sell boats. There are what look like the remnants of docks and dozens of boat-related things everywhere. This little cove shows signs of that flood. Everything has been “washed” to the west as we look north from the dreary ruins of this building.
Mary did not bother to tell me until we made camp. I asked her why she waited and she said that she didn’t realize where we were until she was out gathering some wood for the fire. She led me to a tree where two bodies are hanging. I have no idea what the story is, but two soldiers from the NAA are dead, strung up by a hangman’s noose.
Have you ever walked in to the end of a conversation and wondered what the hell people were talking about because you hear something that is just so crazy. Well…that is what I am feeling right now. It doesn’t make sense. Two soldiers…just hanging from a tree. No signs of a big struggle…the bodies do not look like anything strange has been done—other than the hanging that is—and they don’t even have their hands tied.
The only thing good about camping here tonight is that Mary says there have not been any walkers on this island for over a decade.
Wednesday, March 10 th
I don’t think I slept all that well last night. I heard a lot of hoots and whistles and other strange noises. I was almost certain that we were going to end up getting grabbed by the people who call this island home.
When the sun broke, I felt silly…until we went to leave. There was a sign on the upside-down skeleton of a boat. It said simply: If you return…you die.
I guess Mary wasn’t kidding.
Thursday, March 11 th
We have been moving along without any real troubles since we left. Sure, we got a nasty note, but if that is
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