Day Nine Hundred Seventy Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our friend could talk of nothing else but the explosion. He was well past the town where it went off when it went off. He turned around and ran back to investigate. But he couldn’t get any closer than the fields outside. Nothing stirred, except the raging fire – everywhere. It seemed to be feeding on something within itself.

When he passed through before, not a soul would answer him. So he had wiped his feet and left in search of us.

When Tomas had unburdened himself, Elijah had us all turn in. Only with the new morning did we open up about our journey and about the rumor we had heard.

We parlayed and unanimously decided to pursue the lead.

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Day Eight Hundred Twenty Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Come morning I thought it time to shake the dust from our feet and move on. Elijah concurred in my assessment, but Quasimo was unwilling to leave as of yet.

Elijah and I considered continuing on without him. We were out of danger in so far as pursuit was concerned. And we had no real need for his guidance anymore, but we both sensed that he needed ours. Or more to the point he knows not how to follow the lead of the Spirit and we felt the responsibility to be sure that he knows before we part.

We then decided simultaneously that we had to be sure ourselves about our next move.

So we felt no guilt in staying.

Day Six Hundred Twenty One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We saw a column of dust rising at the far end of the plain across the river from us. The army had to be marching somewhere below that smudge splitting the blue of the sky.

We discovered the point at which they must have crossed yesterday, where their trail disappeared at the water’s edge. I surmised they must have had boats or pontoon bridges.

It was much too deep for us there.

I knew from my time reconnoitering that a better place lay around the bend.

We found a derelict boat upon which the Captain and Tomas made repairs and we crossed without getting our feet wet.

Elijah wants to overtake the army, but none of us will ask why.

Day Three Hundred Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Almost too much has happened today for me to write about.

And the sights I was witness to crowd out all else.

The storm clouds have moved on, leaving behind them a new reality.

The great city is no more. Its structures razed down to ground level – and below. The deepest depression appears to be in the area of the administration building. And there is no movement, of man or beast across the landscape. No fires burn and no smoke fills the air above. Silence only spreads its wings, flushing out the sighing of the wind.

Elijah and I returned aft to our cabin in the superstructure of the vessel, as the ship’s engines rumbled the deck beneath our feet.

Day Two Hundred Seventy Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

It would have been a quiet night in the square if not for the revelers at midnight. They appeared intent on hassling anyone in their path. Catching sight of us they came straight for us in a booze fueled fury.

Elijah stood to his feet and around the rock of his presence the subhuman tide split and fell to fighting amongst themselves.

We were not bothered the rest of the night, though we did take turns on watch.

With the dawn we took note of which residences surrounding the square did not disgorge any occupants. The second such house as it turned out belongs to Sy’s parents.

They invited us in. And listened eagerly to the news about their son.

Day Two Hundred Thirty Seven Afternoon #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Enough writes:

Saw Lyle stumble to his feet in the clear light of day.

Encouraged to see him continue on.  

Wonder if he knows he’s not alone.

Day Two Hundred Thirty Four Late Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

A low rumble brought me to my feet, but it was a momentary status. The following tremor threw me to the ground.

A mounting wave filled the horizon.

Day Two Hundred Three Evening #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Enough writes:

The slap of my feet echoes across the rocky expanse I am traversing. Gone is the scrub, the last vestige of a living organism out here.

Or so I thought.

At one point there was a loud buzzing way off to my left. Then nothing.

A dragonfly flicked by my ear and for a moment I thought it may have been the source.

But no.

Day One Hundred Ninety Eight Evening #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Enough writes:

Grazie appeared to me in my dreams. She took my hand and I stood to my feet.

My cell door lay open. Soon I followed her lead through empty corridors and out into the streets of the second district.

I was not asleep after all.

We hid in an empty house in the third district.

An image of Flowers graced one wall.

Day One Hundred Ninety Five Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

Silence blanketed the camp, as if the very earth paused between breaths.

I took a walk in the quiet. No one stirred from their tents. Only the muffled sounds of whispered conversations.

My feet bore me over the well trodden path down to the vineyard. There I sat, and watched and pondered.

No, nothing to get ready, just be ready.