Day One Thousand Forty Nine #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The silence in the wilderness was highly unusual. Not even a breeze disturbed the air around us. And one had the sense that if there were any noise out there, at however great a distance, we would have plenty of time to prepare before we made visual contact.

Thus we heard the footsteps. But we weren’t prepared for what came.

By the sound we knew it could only be a single individual, making his way across the bedrock of the ground to our front.

We halted and waited, confident we would be hidden from view until whatever it was, was past us.

So, we did not see that it was Raj P until then. I bounded out to greet him.

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Day Nine Hundred Forty Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah passed the day in one corner of our cell. I kept watch, moving to the door whenever I heard the approach of footsteps. There was not much traffic down in this wing, and the few of which I became aware, continued on past. (Probably a guard).

As the day went on it was beginning to look like no one would be paying us a call to demand our answer and we would be given another day to accept the mark.

But that thought was interrupted by the arrival of our food. The guard who passed it through to me said it would be the last meal delivered here if we did not agree to the mark by his return.

Day Five Hundred Thirty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I had a dream in the early morning. I was jolted out of a deep sleep by a rhythmic pounding reverberating throughout the ship.

I left our cabin. There the pounding became muffled, but I could see a globe of light glowing as though through the bulkheads, emanating from somewhere below.

My footsteps took me to its source – the first container strapped to the deck.

The minute I touched its door, I awoke for real.

I looked to Elijah’s bunk. He was not there.

I encountered Tomas in the passageway. He had been on watch and saw a light down on the deck.

We found Elijah peering in through its open door.

We passed the day combing through its contents.

Day Four Hundred Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The crunch of our footsteps upon the caked salt, kept us company as we stuck to the tracks of the many who have passed before us.

It was easier to keep our heads down and eyes focused on the patterns on the ground rather than the over bright whiteness stretching beyond, made worse by the glowing haze that hugs the horizon.

That’s probably why we did not see the muddy quagmire until we almost stumbled into it. I looked up to see a man buried up to his neck in the sticky mess.

Elijah and I freed him with some risk to ourselves. He barely nodded his thanks as he sped away.

Does bearing the mark always make one surly?

Day Two Hundred Sixty Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The leader of our “escorts” has not a clue what to do with us. Elijah for his part has been content for us to remain along the river for now. But that will change soon.

We made a short expedition over to Elijah’s other bridge. The escorts (seven this time) became agitated when they realized where we were headed. No one from the city will go near that bridge. They take seriously the minefield warnings placed around its approaches. I wondered what they would do if they knew the signs were placed by Elijah. He persuaded them no harm would ensue if they followed in his footsteps.

Elijah was pleased to find all as before. I marvel our reputation grows.