I sit watching from my safe distance and secluded peeking spot at the large singular building nestled in an unnatural clearing, surrounded by ten feet of barbed wire fencing that stretches all the way around, save for a set of very large gates at the far side. All closed and locked tight and looking deserted. There are dirt tracks showing signs of infrequent visits from off road vehicles leading up to it, coming from the south, and I'm perched here for watching for signs of life for an hour now, as I try to figure out if it's safe to get closer.
It took the rest of the day to get here, following an imaginary line from my previous camp spot, in the general direction and sticking to hyper speed for most. I'm tired, my back agony from keeping on trekking at an hour I've grown accustomed to being the settling down and making camp stage. Sweating, breathless, hot, and sticky, and currently sat on my backpack as I try to figure out how stupid I would be if I went and further investigated.
There's no signs of life, no new tracks, or lingering scents of anyone being around the perimeter from this distance. It seems silent, but then it's a large white windowless building, with a rough cast of fine white stone, and looks exceptionally clean for being out here in the middle of no man's land. It has an aura of mystery and my gut is telling me to be wary, even if it's also urging me to investigate.
The mast on top is a huge metallic construction, like the Eiffel tower almost, and sits on the roof of it's a custom platform, stretching some thirty feet upwards. I thought at first it was a telecom mast, or maybe power, but there's nothing connecting to what looks like a radio antenna coming from the top of it. There's a generator steel box, almost half the size of the building, within the compound, yet sat apart from it, and it's humming on low within its own encasement, suggesting this building has constant power.
There's something off, even if on the surface it looks how I imagine an unmanned power plant substation would look, and despite that, my inner weird voice that kept pushing me east, it's telling me to get closer. My own mind and instincts battling with what to do and its why I've sat here staring at it for so long. The sensible part is screaming danger, the less logical me is telling me how harmless this looks and that there are no signs of life at all. The weak part of me is aching for some sort of connection to civilization, and a longing to touch something real and man made after so many weeks alone. It just reminds me that despite doing better, I've been crushingly lonely still.
I can't see any way in from this angle so the door must face those giant gates, which means it only has one entrance and nothing else. Not exactly a layout for any kind of worrying military base, I mean, it's not even that big. At most you could park two of the Santo trucks inside, so I doubt it homes any more than some power grid equipment for maybe some of the further rural homes. Maybe it's a radio station with sporadic visits or something. I don't have a clue, as it's hardly my area of expertise. It's not big enough to be anything much else.
The point is after an hour sat here, I haven't gotten any signs of life, or any reason to not go and have a closer look, and the only thing stopping me is my own terrified level of suspicion. I'm being overly cautious, my feeble side wading in, and even the wind blowing this way is picking up on no human scent in any way. It seems completely deserted.
I can see cameras at the corners of the building on this side and they probably have them at the front too, but they are all pointing down at the ground within the fences, so I can at least get that close without being caught on them. I guess they're to pick up on wildlife getting in, or something. I might see more if I go around the other side and figure out what it is. It might have signs, or maybe hazard warnings, if it is just a power plant. If I know for sure, then I can stop tiptoeing around and relax.
I exhale heavily, wiping the rolling beads of moisture from my brow and look up at the fading light in the greying sky. I should find a place to make camp and stop wasting what daylight I have left. Come back in the morning, but that means trekking further, as this is the first clearing I've come across in hours. There's nothing nearby that looks like a good place to set up, so maybe I might have to sacrifice a comfy night and roll up in the bear fur right here. I can't think of anything else to do.