Crossing Into the Unknown

Posted on Thu Aug 6th, 2026 @ 9:29am by Pine Hollow Leader Amythyst & Department Leader Briar Maddox & Department Leader Jordana Venturi & Deputy Leader John ("Dodger") Smith & Deputy Leader George Brooks & Department Leader Hannah Reed & Department Leader Eliza Moore & Department Leader Leah Miller & Department Leader Elliot Pike & Senior Worker Phoebe Cates & Senior Worker Andrew Dornhoeffer & Worker Lincoln Moore & Team Leader Patrick Byrne & Team Leader Mateo Alvarez & Junior Worker Colin Chambers & Worker First Class Meredith Richmond & Worker First Class Paulina Cates & Skilled Worker Rowan Maddox & Skilled Worker Henry Karcher & Assistant Department Leader Austin Wilson & Apprentice Michael Gardner

813 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Pine Hollow
Location: Western Maine
Timeline: October 21st 2010

The first hint that they were close wasn't the bridge. It was the silence.

The road had narrowed hours earlier, the cracked asphalt giving way to weathered gravel before disappearing beneath years of pine needles. Towering spruce and fir crowded both sides of the track, their branches knitting together overhead until even the afternoon light struggled to reach the ground.

Amy walked at the head of the column, one hand resting on the strap of her pack, the other gripping her machete. Every few moments she stopped, listening. Nothing. No walkers. No birds. Just the distant rush of water. "Bridge ahead," Patrick whispered from farther forward.

Amy nodded once. The convoy slowed almost instinctively.

Behind her came the steady creak of wagon wheels, the soft clink of harness chains, and the occasional low rumble from one of the cattle pulling their loads. Chickens muttered quietly from their travelling crates while the dogs ranged silently along the edges of the road, ears forward, noses testing the wind.

Everyone spoke in hushed voices. After Fort Mason, nobody needed reminding why.

The bridge emerged gradually through the trees.

It wasn't large—just an old steel-and-timber railway service bridge spanning a fast-flowing mountain river. Moss covered the concrete abutments, while vines and saplings had begun reclaiming the rusting guardrails.

Amy crouched near the entrance, studying the planks.

"They'll hold," Austin said quietly after kneeling beside her. "Weathered... but solid."

She looked at him. "You sure?"

He gave a small nod. "They've carried heavier."

Amy looked back at the line stretching behind her.

Twenty children. Dogs. Cats. Bees. Cattle. Goats. Chickens. Months of carefully packed supplies. Everything they still owned. Everything they hoped would become a future. "One wagon at a time," she called softly.
"No running. Keep the spacing."

The first team eased forward. The bridge groaned. Every head turned.
The sound echoed down the valley before fading beneath the constant roar of the river below. Or it seemed to because they were trying to be quiet. Nobody breathed until the lead wagon reached the opposite bank.

Amy motioned for the second. Slowly... Patiently... The convoy crossed.
One wagon. Then another. Then another. When the last wheel rolled onto solid ground, a tension none of them had realised they were carrying quietly slipped away. Amy glanced behind them.

The bridge disappeared between the trees almost immediately, swallowed by the forest as though it had never been there.

"Keep moving," she said.

The old logging road climbed gently beyond the river before bending sharply north into dense woodland. Within minutes the trees closed around them. Branches brushed the tops of the wagons. Ferns crowded the wheel ruts. The moonlight faded beneath the thick evergreen canopy. f someone had been watching from the road behind, they would have seen the convoy vanish into the forest.

There were no signs. No fences. No gates. Nothing to suggest that beyond the wall of ancient pines lay an entire hidden valley.

Dodger was the rear guard. His head on a swivel as the convey slowly first crossed the bridge and now moving through dense woodland. Fisher trotted by his side and did loops around the convey like the other dogs he was ever vigilant for anything out of the ordinary.

Normally he would would want to be out front doing the exploring but as he clenched the baseball bat in his left hand, right now being in the rear left him alone with his thoughts. Not just on the group, he was confident they were going to make it. But on Elena as well and her noble sacrifice. He had liked her, her quiet dignity and sage advice, her friendship. She had been all that an adult was supposed to be. Not the lying, back stabbing SOBs all adults seemed to become. The ones who sell you out for a dollar. Now she was gone just like Dante and his world seemed a little more harsh, a little more cold bitten and uncaring.

Only Amy knew what Elena's journal promised lay ahead. Somewhere beyond these woods... Beyond the mountain... Beyond the tunnel hidden from the world... Was Pine Hollow. For the first time in weeks, the destination felt real. No longer a story. No longer a hope. Just one more road. One more turn. And, if Elena had been right... Home.

Jordan had been quiet, pondering. Carrying her supplies, she held a pole on one hand. Sturdy and bendable, it held under the right conditions. Crossing the bridge, she looked around seeing the long line. They made progress since her captivity at the fort. Being there left some scars, but she kept her head on.

George was bringing up the rear of the group, ensuring everyone got across the old bridge. While they had had no issues with anything dangerous, he was certain that their luck would not hold out forever.

OFF

 

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