Day Three Hundred Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

But the hail did not spare those surrounding us. To the last man they were swept away or crushed under boulders of ice.

And there is no sign of Stan. Elijah is sure he is well away from the city. I am sure we have not seen the last of him.

We made it down to the dockside where our vessel had previously berthed. Another was is its place, its back broken, as though dropped from the sky too.

Our ship rode at anchor still out in the roads. Elijah observed me watching it, then took me in tow.

We rounded some buildings and climbed down to the beach.

From there I followed Elijah as we walked to our ship.

Day Three Hundred Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Storm clouds blew in this afternoon. And appear to go on forever, encircling and closing in on the city. It seems too early as there yet remains three days to run.

Elijah and I discussed plans to get through the cordon and into our ship. We had just settled on a stratagem, when the said ship cast off from the dock and pulled away out into the roads.

Obviously Stan has identified it as ours and ordered her off. At the same time he has reinforced the troops on the perimeter around us.

I admitted disappointment, but Elijah remained non-plussed.

At that moment the storm broke loose. Lightning and hail fell from the turbulent skies.

They both spared us.