Day Eight Hundred Seventy Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Our series of meetings have started to bear fruit. Word comes through Meesa that many people are contacting her, to ask when they can leave.

This ground swell burgeoned throughout the day.

However, we still had the problem of meeting to coordinate our actions to reach our desired goal.

That’s when Jezer reappeared. And he had a solution.

Wherever he had been, he was in position to hear all about our efforts to contact Hamashiachites. He identified those who were the most effective in spreading the word. And now Meesa has a list and a method for pulling us all together.

But Jezer also brought the intelligence that the authorities will soon be clamping down on movement within the city.

Day Eight Hundred Twenty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Already we have seen the harvest of much fruit in the tribal encampment – both in the numbers of people and in the maturity so evident in the life of Quasimo.

Elijah marvels at the advances he is making in grasping the gist of all he is teaching. And he is cheered by the fact that he puts it immediately into practice.

There is no doubt in our minds that we can safely leave him to his task tomorrow, and set off to our calling.

We shall assemble with him and his fledglings later this evening for last minute essential instructions, and for a time of corporate prayer. And for a time of leave taking. A prospect both glad and sad.

Day Seven Hundred Twenty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We exercised the usual caution today.  At first light Tomas went into the city to scout, while we stayed on the outskirts.

The Captain was focused on the fruit trees that were indeed on the approaches to the city. Very little fruit was left to glean. What there was, was green or in one instance mealy.

Tomas brought an end to our foraging upon his return. With a long explanation he hustled us into the city.

The city was in the throes of preparing to stave off an invasion.  He convinced us that we needed to be settled as soon as possible.

Thankfully we found an inn. Though Stan’s image was everywhere no one asked if we bore the mark.

Day Seven Hundred Twenty Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The speck on the horizon has taken on a more recognizable form. Buildings spread out in a line, conforming, I surmise, to the presence of a river or some other feature out of our sight.

The Captain bubbles over with excitement at the prospect of fresh fruit. For he believes he sees groves of trees grouped around the approaches to the city.

Tomas stayed awake late last night smelting the gold from the satellite components. This morning he showed us the results of his labors – four small, shiny rectangles of the precious substance. One for each of us if we wanted to divide them up.

We will make a short day of it. We prefer to enter tomorrow in daylight.

Day Seven Hundred Twenty Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Two caravans passed by us today, and unlike the first, these in their turn tried to interest us in their wares. The Captain was drawn to the fruit they were hawking, but balked at the price. After haggling he passed.

Elijah congratulated him afterwards. And pointed to a hazy speck on the horizon. He said we would find a city at the edge of the desert. No doubt fruit would be cheaper at its source.

We kept on in order – Tomas far to the front, the Captain walking and conversing with Elijah, and I brought up the rear, thinking about many things.

Did that satellite crash accidentally or was it shot down?

Neither Tomas nor the Captain offered an opinion.

Day Six Hundred Seventy #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Overwhelmed.

This is one of those times when so much has happened I am not able to write it all down. So I’ll just touch on my highest concern.

I went out early to find some light fare with which Elijah can end his fast. (And to look around and get a feel for our situation). The innkeeper looked nervous when he saw me leave.

After a multitude of encounters in the market I concluded that it was sold out of fruit. A function of the army’s presence.

That being the case I found and begged a few pieces from an army mess.

Upon my return to the inn, the innkeeper was gone. Vanished.

And so were my three friends.

Day Five Hundred Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The trash from the slum is the refuse of the refuse. The slum grew up around the dumping ground of the well-to-do, and is minutely combed through by the slum’s denizens. What is left to be carted out, no guard would deign touch.

So, our friends covered Elijah and me with the most foul-smelling and messy collection of trash possible.

And thus we took our leave of the metropolis. And after cleaning up in a safe place and a change of clothes we were on our way again.

Elijah is confident that Jordan will bear much fruit to the glory of the One. And I am glad at the prospect of seeing our friends on the ship.

Day One Hundred Sixty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle’s mission yesterday bore fruit. He emerged from the west with five children. They are now scattered to other families throughout the encampment for safe keeping.

We now know that by no means is the mark borne universally in the west. But people there reported rumors that those who have, are forming bands to sweep through the city to seek out those who don’t. And Lyle saw evidence of this on his way back through the district. A band surrounded one of the west end markets and checked each customer.

Talking with Lyle about this, I was feeling overwhelmed. There must be a better way to help.

I was unsettled further when he described smoke rising from the first district.