Whispers South of Portland

For weeks, the rumours moved quietly.

A mention overheard beside a roadside fire.
A broken transmission cutting out mid-sentence on UNICOM.
A scavenger refusing to travel inland after sunset.
A trader changing routes without explanation.

At first, most dismissed it as the usual paranoia that settles over Deer Isle whenever tensions rise elsewhere. But as May progresses and more survivors return from the southern mountain routes with similar stories, the whispers have become harder to ignore.

Something — or someone — may be operating south of Portland.

No one agrees on exactly what is happening there.

Some describe temporary checkpoints hidden along logging roads deep within the forest. Others speak of heavily armed patrols moving through elevated terrain before vanishing back into the tree line without warning. A pair of fishermen travelling north from the coast claimed they heard organised radio traffic echoing through the hills despite carrying no functioning receiver themselves.

One survivor arriving in Stonington earlier this week described encountering a small encampment concealed beneath camouflage netting high within the ridgeline.

“They weren’t infected. They weren’t scavengers either,” the man reportedly told listeners at a roadside cookfire near the Trade House. “They watched us long before we saw them.”

He refused to elaborate further.

Another traveller claimed they were approached directly while moving alone through woodland south-east of Portland. According to the account, the group spoke calmly, offered food and shelter, and asked a series of unsettling questions regarding loyalty, survival, and “what kind of future deserved to survive.”

The survivor later referred to the interaction only as “a test.”

No organisation has publicly claimed responsibility for these encounters.

Yet one name continues surfacing repeatedly across survivor testimony:

S.T.A.G.

The initials themselves remain poorly understood. Some insist the group are disciplined remnants of old-world operators attempting to restore order through strength and selective recruitment. Others believe they are little more than opportunists using military structure and fear to establish territorial influence across Deer Isle.

Few speak confidently about them.

Fewer still speak openly.

The rumours intensified dramatically following several recent helicopter crash incidents across the island. Multiple survivors reported seeing armed individuals emerging alive from wreck sites before disappearing into the wilderness ahead of responding scavengers. In several cases, crash locations appeared stripped with unusual speed and precision.

Questions surrounding the disappearance of survivor Green Bauman have only deepened public anxiety.

Bauman, whose name had reportedly become tied to tensions involving stolen S.T.A.G. equipment and movements near contested territory, has not been publicly seen in recent days. Some believe he fled inland voluntarily. Others claim he was taken. Several UNICOM users have suggested the entire story is fabricated misinformation intended to provoke fear and speculation.

No confirmation exists.

The Deer Isle Sheriff’s Office has issued no statement regarding the reports.

Likewise, personnel connected to North Haven Airfield operations and ATF-linked security details have remained notably silent on the matter. Even the recently destabilised Stonington Trade House leadership discussions appear to have pushed the subject aside publicly, though traders continue quietly rerouting supply convoys away from southern woodland routes.

Whether this caution is justified remains unclear.

Still, patterns are beginning to emerge.

Travellers moving in groups report fewer encounters than isolated individuals. Certain radio frequencies experience unusual dead silence near elevated southern terrain. Campfires once common along inland trails have become increasingly rare. Several experienced survivors now openly refuse to guide newcomers through the mountains after dark.

And then there are the stories that cannot be verified at all.

Stories of survivors returning changed.
Stories of ideological conversations held beneath floodlights in abandoned camps.
Stories of strangers offering frightened survivors “purpose.”
Stories of individuals leaving willingly beside armed patrols and never being heard from again.

None of it has been confirmed.

Perhaps none of it is true.

But Deer Isle has entered a different season now.

Trade routes are reopening. Flights between territories have resumed. Settlements are growing larger and more organised. Elections are being discussed openly. Armed groups no longer hide simply to survive — increasingly, they appear to be positioning themselves for influence.

And while much of the island focuses on rebuilding roads, restoring commerce, and reconnecting fractured communities, something quieter may already be taking shape in the wilderness south of Portland.

Something patient.

Something organised.

Something watching.