Day Three Hundred Twenty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Elijah emerged from the set apart cabin, staff in hand. And I was waiting for him.

He simply said, “I know,” and beckoned me to follow. I offered to fetch the Captain, but he answered it would not be necessary.

No one was about when we arrived forward. The acetylene torch and its paraphernalia were cluttering the passageway  outside the cabin in question.

Elijah ordered me to wait outside, and cautioned me to do nothing no matter what I saw or heard.

He struck the door with his staff. It opened and he entered, slamming the door behind him.  Smoke or mist which had issued forth, was sucked back in by the action of the closing door.

Again, I wait.

Day Three Hundred Twenty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We have settled in for a lengthy stretch until our next port, at least two weeks per the Captain. A longer time is necessary to navigate the difficulties lurking in our course consequent to the Troubles.

And to his experience they are constantly changing.

Elijah wanders about talking to the crew, but spends more time scanning the horizon ahead. He thinks the passage will take longer than the Captain’s estimate.

I am inclined to agree.

And I tremble for those on the land. My times alone in the set apart cabin are filled with unsettling visions. Visions of clouds of insects falling upon ripening fields and consuming everything in sight. And those who are bitten run away in a frenzy.