Day Three Hundred Ninety Three #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

This has been the longest day. Mile after mile of bush, boring in the extreme for its sameness. Visibility only dropped off in the haziness of the distant horizon to our front. And we kept a wary regard as to what lay behind us. No longer did we see the wilderness through which we had passed, but, then again, neither did we see anyone following us. A good thing, but tempered by the thought of what that meant, that they were perhaps on the trail of the Purser and his family instead.

Elijah and I did use the time to catch one another up on our doings while we were separated. What he shared about the robotic warship haunted me.