From the journal of John Archer, the Archivist, March 15

March 15, 2017

     It has taken us a lot longer than we thought or planned for to skirt around Denver. So far, we have only gone about a third of the way and it has been 8 days. Not all the delay has been caused by the undead, although they have caused their own delays. We have had to get off the road and keep quiet a few times to avoid groups of those still alive. They were preying on groups of other alive to get what they need or want.

     The first group like this that we saw was on March 10th. Luckily for us, we saw them before they saw us. There must have been  or so guys on motorcycles and several truckloads as well. They used the semi truck to push a bus off the road about a mile down the road. We were still at the very crest of the hill when we heard the sound of impacting metal and came to a stop. Those in the bus that survived the crash were dragged off the bus, women and children separated from the men. The women and children were herded to the side while the men were forced onto their knees in the middle of the road and shot execution style. Children and women screamed and cried while the biker group just laughed and started going through the remains of the bus. The women and children were put into the back of a military convoy truck while the bikers took whatever else they wanted.
     We pulled back to the other side of the hilltop and scouted for a place to fall back to. Aaron found an old logging/mining road that was overgrown and we pulled all the vehicles down it without making it too obvious by breaking branches or driving on the high center of the road where the grass was tallest. We got the vehicles circled, sentries posted both where our group was settling and back in the trees at the main road where we had pulled off. Everyone was fed and the children were put in the back of the vans with their back doors facing each other and had stories read to them quietly. The rest of us waited to see if they would pass our way down the highway or if they would go the way we were headed. We stayed as quiet as possible because we did not want to take the chance that sound would travel to where they could hear it and we did not make a fire because it would make us more visible what with the smoke and light through the trees.
     About an hour after we had gotten settled in we heard the group approaching on the main road. Everyone held their breath and kept the children quiet while they passed by, but still we did not leave. Who knew if they had scouts in front or behind their group, so we decided our best chance was to stay where we were for the rest of the 10th.
     We hadn't thought about live people going to that dark of a place this fast. I guess we had gotten luckier with the group we ended up with at the camp than any of us had thought. We might have gotten someone like one of those bikers and then where would we be? None of us said anything to the kids, but we knew what the fate of those women would be. For all we knew, the children could end up in the same situation as their mothers. They would be wishing they had not survived the crash before the night was over. That is the only thing I am certain about.

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