Mapping the Silence

I've been at my backup location for five days now, doing nothing but analysis. No field work, no radio monitoring. Just maps, data, and coffee.

I compiled everything:

• The magnetic anomaly zone (200 yards diameter)
• Mile marker 17 (strongest hum, radio gaps)
• The window coordinates (35.7796, -83.5279)
• The new road location
• The photograph surveillance point
• Every GPS anomaly reported by the community
• The direction the crows face

When I plotted it all, I expected chaos. Random points scattered across the area. That's usually what unexplained phenomena look like—noise pretending to be signal.

But this isn't noise.

It's a grid.

The points form a nearly perfect hexagonal pattern. Six outer points, equally spaced. And at the center—exactly at the center—is that clearing I found in satellite images. The one that doesn't appear on any map.

The hexagon is about 40 miles across. My cabin sits on one vertex. Mile marker 17 is on the edge of one face. The window coordinates are dead center.

Someone built this. Deliberately. With mathematical precision.

I don't know what's at the center yet. I'm not ready to go there—not alone, not without more information. But I know now that everything I've been experiencing isn't random. It's infrastructure.

Infrastructure for what?

That's the question I'm going to answer.

I'm coming home to my cabin tomorrow. Whatever they're doing, they've already noticed me. Hiding won't change that. But understanding might.

Patterns matter more than names. And this pattern is finally becoming clear.