Occurred: 6/12/2017 03:45 (Entered as: 06/12/17 3:45) Reported: 6/15/2017 7:33:48 A.M. 07:33 Posted: 6/15/2017 Location: Fortuna, AZ Shape: Unknown Duration: 60 minutes Stopped to assist several entities.
I’M not sure how this fits in but the experience has stayed with me; and I had to post something.
I am a long haul driver and was travelling east on Interstate 8, just east of Fortuna, Arizona. Having checked the clock, it was 3:45 A.M. when I alerted my partner to the presence of three or four individuals standing in the middle of the traffic lane. After sounding the truck horn, I began to slow our rig. Given the fact that the area is well known for human smuggling and is dangerous to travel, I wondered if, perhaps, we should keep going.
But, when it became apparent that at least three of the individuals were wearing some kind of uniform, I decided to stop along the right shoulder. Nevertheless, my second driver emerged from the sleeper with the shotgun that we carry. Both of us agreed that neither of us was going to step from the cab, and we kept the engine idling.
Three individuals walked slowly toward me, toward the driver’s side of the cab. At about fifteen feet, I could tell that all three of them were suited, if you will, in some sort of gear. I wondered if the Marines, from the nearby Marine Corps air station, had crashed and were going to ask us for help.
As I lowered the driver’s window, the shortest of the three, bundled in heavy white gear, with what looked like white armor around the chest, and a partial faceplate that emerged from below the chin, said to me, in perfect English, “Not to worry, we have a minor situation.” He (it) motioned with his left arm toward the distance, off the highway. It was strange because neither my partner nor I saw anything as we approached the group but, sure enough, something was putting out intense red flames, maybe fifty feet off the right shoulder from where we were parked.
Before I could say anything, a triangle-shaped wedge of the landscape to our right, with the flames at the base of the triangle, rose up and sliced through the truck cab. For lack of a better description, I felt like I was looking at some kind of image -- as it came through the cab. I mean, the individual who spoke to me appeared first on the left side near me, and then appeared on the right side, the raised side, then on both sides, which appeared raised.
My throat was so dry, my stomach in knots; honestly, I felt like I was going to heave. I figured we had it. Three individuals, two in white, wearing helmets, and one who appeared burned or blackened and without a helmet, appeared in the image to our right, as they made their way around chunks of rock, walking towards our cab. There was a lot of communication, like radio, between them, or between somebody.
The one who had spoken to me, after I had lowered the window, now sounded metallic. So I turned once again towards the voice, to my left again, toward the open window and he (or it) wasn’t there. I turned toward my partner, in the right front seat, who was still cradling the shotgun, nothing. I mean, it was black. It was perfectly silent. There were no flames off to the right in the distance.
Our clock showed 5:15 A.M., only the entire encounter felt like it had lasted fifteen minutes or so. I don’t know what to claim. I stopped to assist several entities that appeared to be projected from somewhere; and I still feel nauseous.