Day Six Hundred Thirty Six #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lots of bushy scrub in the area we passed through over night. Much easier to avoid mishaps when the moon was up. Or so the Captain learned. He was tripped up twice.

I did see lights in the sky that were not stars, flitting from one side of the sky to the other. More of those machines that Elijah says are looking for us. And per Tomas, guided from within by men.

I sense the hand of Stan at work. Perhaps not directing each individual action, but setting the pattern as they perform his bidding.

We called it an early night and went into camp before the sun cleared the horizon.

Elijah stood vigil while we ate, then turned in.

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.