FRIDAY JULY 22ND, 2011
(Walking)

12:32 AM
Donnie's had to drive us in a circle, as the cops figured we were headed west. We've found a ghost town. Sign says Pahrump.
The lights of Las Vegas New Sanctuary are still visible, so we haven't made as much progress as we've wanted.
I'm sure this place used to be something. It will have had people in it. But the proximity of such a big city, a blatant safe haven, has emptied it and left it abandoned, all the better for us.
We've parked in a garage. Not much more than a little shed, but it hides the car.

12:40 AM
God, it's. It's just nothing out here.
"It's so flat."
There's some trees here and there, around the few houses, but they were clearly planted for the sake of... what? Suburbia? A budding attempt at suburbia?
The dominant plantlife is desert shrub. It's. It's a desert. It's some roads in a desert.
"There's nothing here for us."
Nothing at all.
"It's perfect."
o_o? For hiding from the law?
"That wasn't the law. That was some business that saw an opportunity to roleplay soldiers."
4chan wet dreams.
"No, this place is perfect for you and me. We can see out for miles, we can see if anyone's coming. And who's coming? This is a piss-poor dinky little patch of road. The monsters are going to be attracted by that." the lights in the distance.
She's grabbed my shoulder.
"Let's live here."
Uh?

1:05 AM
We spent some time scouting out houses that aren't too destroyed. Donnie killed some spiders for me.
There's no mattresses, no bed, only the floor. And a couch that was fucking destroyed.
But she's laid there on the floor regardless. Sprawled out like it's the comfiest thing in the world. She's not even in her big combat suit, she's raw-dogging it. In her. Dress. Which is not what "raw-dogging" means.
She wants me to come to 'bed.'
.....I mean, fuck it.

2:08 AM
life is kinda cool, sometimes.

9:02 AM
Morning.
Sunlight, filtered red through what's become of our atmosphere, beams through a broken window. Thank fuck it was broken, as last night was a scorcher. We'd have just left it open anyway.
There's a noticeable stain on the floor in the corner of the room Oh yeah, that was last night.
And there she is, still asleep. :) Covered in sweat, hair sticking to her face, mouth quivering with snores. God, I love her.
This is.. yeah.
This is what I've been wanting.

9:09 AM
Good morning, cutie. Welcome to awake.
"My ass."
You slept on the floor!
"I see the error of my ways."

9:11 AM
We're standing up now. We're awake.
"I miss working toilets."
Yeah. You know we're not going to find one of those here, right? In this town.
"Oh.. I guess I said some things last night."
Don't get me wrong! I thought it was really endearing.
"I was sick of the day we'd had. I still am sick of the day-by-day trudging along."
I can drive us today.
"Thanks."
So. Just to be clear, we're not staying in this town?
"Fuck no. This place sucks."

9:14 AM
"..our car is gone."
No.
"Do you see it?"
It can't be gone! The night was dead silent!
"But do you know what this means? We have to walk."
In this heat! :C
"Do we even have water left? Food?"
Whatever was left was still in the car, wasn't it?
"Fuck!"
Are we... are we sure the car's gone? Maybe we parked it in a different shed. We did go looking for other houses after we parked…

9:20 AM
No... no, this is it, this is the only shed around here.
Which means. Someone came around here when we were asleep and just took it.
Which means. We have to walk.

10:20 AM
We've been following the roads, the same roads we'd have been driving on.
We don't think we have to worry about the police. Hell, it's possible they're the ones who repossessed the car. But if we see them, then we... uhhh. We'll run. I guess. Unless we want to get into a shootout? I'd rather it not come to that.
Thankfully, Donnie had brought the rifle into the house last night, in case we had to clear out some zombies. So we still have that.
And I still have Tiger Stripes.
I've had to get back in the habit of using it again, as there are some wildlife critters out here we don't want to waste ammo on.

11:20 AM
I swear the spidercats are learning. They're staying away from us, as they know we don't have any food on us.
Meanwhile there's vultures and bugs.
Constant fucking bugs.
My guitar is covered in dead bugs. I keep trying to scrape them off on the road, but it doesn't matter, as I'm just gonna kill more bugs minutes later.
We are so thirsty.

12:20 PM
Donnie has taken to singing "A Horse With No Name" to keep her spirits up.
She's sung it enough times now that I know the words too.
Plants and birds and rocks and things, sand and hills and rings.
la laaaa laaaa laa lala laa, lala la... laaa laa…

1:20 PM
I miss my Rapture Duck.
Evidently those things are still ducks at heart, they won't be found out here in bumfuck heatwave.
We.. really need to stop soon.

1:34 PM
Taking a break.
"Jordan?"
Yeah, baby..?
"Why are we going west? Sorry, I mean." pant. pant. "Why are we trusting EAT?"
It's. The best lead we have right now.
"It thought the Ciphers were a good idea."
So did we.
"And it said it'd find out more about the graffiti. The thing we're walking into."
It.. it did.
"The potential trap."
Potential.
"..." she's too tired to argue. or she's just listening.
I just. You have to let me trust someone. Please. Even if EAT isn't the right source to count on... like, in trusting it we are performing an overture. Extending. Performing? And I feel like EAT is at least one to appreciate respect. We trust it in this matter. This says nothing about what we think of it in general. Because. We don't know it.. in general.
"…"
Talk to me, Donnie. Tell me what you're thinking. I trust you too. I trust you more.
"No, I'm just thinking... what we actually need is a plan. A plan for what we're doing when we hit California."
Oh. We do need one of those.
"Because, like. We're not just going to cross the border and then immediately meet whoever's waiting for us. All we know is there's graffiti in California. That's not specific."
No, it's not.
"So I'll tell you what we need to do. We need to look for EAT."
:D!!!
"It has lots of bodies, right? We only need to find one, any. That's not as hard as looking for a single person."
Yes!
"But I want us to avoid the other Fears. We've got a job to do. And that's all."
Okay. I'm good with this.
"We're already this far. I think it would have made sense to go to California anyway."

1:44 PM
Back on the road.

2:20 PM
Our luck turned around, as we came upon a car. It was ditched for a reason-- it doesn't work-- but in the trunk were some bottles of water.
With renewed vigor, we press on! o:

3:20 PM
This still sucks. We think an upcoming hill is going to reveal something new, and it never does. It's all one long road through a desert. A fucking desert!
But Donnie's not losing her spirit. Our talk, and that water, keeps her going.
So it's A Horse With No Name for us.

3:32 PM
this fire is out of control, it's gonna burn this city, burn this city

4:20 PM
we can't stop until we reach shelter.
every minute I pray we walk into a rabbit hole.

5:20 PM
did I ever mention.
I don't even like water.
and there's some new.. sound in the distance.
some kind of thump. thump. thump.
I thought it was my heartbeat for a while, but it's external. donnie hears it too.

6:06 PM
Wait, hold up.
There's fence-posts. Do you see those? We're coming up to fence-posts. And a sign that doesn't look like another "SPEED LIMIT 60."
Is this the border?

6:07 PM
Someone's up there, off the road and walking onto it.
Someone armed.
They know we're approaching.

6:09 PM
Bald guy in camo and wraparound sunglasses.
He's the... Border Patrol.
We need to present our passports.
I don't.. think I even took my passport out of my house back in England?
This is a little silly. What, is there a lot worth guarding in California? Did all of America's living rich people move in and barricade the walls?
...border patrol says yes, literally that.
Huh.
donnie's asking if he knows of somewhere we can take shelter and get some rest.
and there are some. in california. other side of the border.
"Not even a guard station? Where do you rest?"
"Other side of the border."
"This is ridiculous."
"The law's the law."
yeah. c'mon, donnie. remember, california's a separate country now. they do have the right to do this kind of LITERAL BULLSHIT.

6:10 PM
we're walking back the way we came.
no, of course we're not gonna walk all the way back.
we're gonna get out of sight, then leave the road.
ideally, we're gonna look for a rabbit hole.
if we have to just cross the border off-road, we will.
"we're armed too."

6:28 PM
OKAY I ESPECIALLY HATE NOT WALKING ON THE ROAD
IT'S SO UNEVEN AND SLOWER

6:33 PM
"wait, do you see that?"
what.
the giraffe?
with legs as long as its neck, so its body is halfway up its height.
"it's not an apocalypse monster. giraffes normally look like that."
wait, really? I could have sworn their neck was longer than their legs.
"they wouldn't be able to hold up their weight if that were the case."
huh. learn something new every day. so?
"so, what's a giraffe doing at the nevada-california border?"
..checking passports? please donnie I can't think straight.
"I bet it got here by rabbit hole. as in, I bet there's a hole nearby."
let's not just call them 'holes.' that's.. weird.

6:47 PM
it happened without warning, as they have tended to lately. a giant portal without a door, walking on and then suddenly we're on a rooftop.
a building surrounded by ocean. gargantuan cliffs and a waterfall behind us. a sky full of stars and bright colorful space-clouds.
donnie tells me those are called nebulae.
the atmosphere is already so refreshing. gone is the stagnant heat, now we are rinsed with cool perspiration.
I feel like we can breathe again.

6:48 PM
So how did the giraffe navigate this?

6:50 PM
Oh dammit. We're gonna have to descend a lot of stairs, as this is a tall building.
And as Donnie pointed out to me, it'd be wise to look a little more and find some food before we allow ourselves to pass out.

6:52 PM
Lots of mannequins on these floors. Dusty lamps, boxes. This is all some kind of storage.
We can't eat mannequins!

6:57 PM
oh my god it's a shopping mall.
with a food court.
"free samples…"
oh we're gonna sleep tonight.

7:20 PM
only stall that was open was something called Fried Burger. they were asking for a currency we've never heard of (the sign said burgers were Z2). so we just stuffed ourselves with free samples. didn't need to eat a ton. just enough to make us feel tired rather than hungry.

7:25 PM
On the way back up the stairs.
Someone else must be up here, because some of the mannequins have moved.
But we're not stopping.

7:29 PM
Rooftop. Cool rooftop. Gorgeous rooftop.
I thought this day would never end.
No talk, journal.
Just rest.
God, rest.
We need a car...

(Attached is a detail from the Book of Ptah: “By the power of Legsteps, out here in the abyss, I've created writing. Such a discovery, I will be the first to acknowledge, did not seem likely, but perhaps there's some proto-universal constant to be found in linguistics. Or perhaps, more likely, loneliness is to blame for all that is. Is that really so likely? I don't feel lonely. For the first time in millions of years, I am free. I have left, behind me, the contemporary for the instinctive, the true, the all-permeating around.
My powers, ancient, are reborn in a hydrogen cauldron. Chemistry no longer seems so quantum, so reliant on observer effects. I create a nose, I inhale, I smell deep space in all its majesty. I create ears, I listen, I hear distant solar flares cackling spells into the abyss. I create eyes, I open, I behold constellations of coincidence-- an astral chalkboard on which I may plot and rediscover arithmetics my memories only cry at. I create a form, I am, I exist.
Perhaps I discovered writing so I might set my thoughts in stone. There's certainly a lot to see.
Right, I have a body. I smell, I hear, I see, I am. I think.
What will I make now? Other than a question.
Vanity, I shall make a mirror.
Comets, send me your inertia. Planets, give me your gravity. It has been… quite a while since I last created an independent object, and I don't want to blow up a solar system in my rustiness.
And so the comets sent me their inertia, and the planets gave me their gravity. A sheet of ice rose, unbounded by dimensions, solidifying with the ordinary temperatures of this corner of space.
Still something is missing. It isn't so reflective. I need a star, a real god's forge.
..with an invisible finger I implant on the ice a light touch. It rockets forward at incredible speeds, spiking through a sun, spinning, arcing, tracing a boomerang line in the vacuum, until at last it returns to me and I stop it with a blink.
Mirror, vanity is your name. Behold the words on this reflective page! Behold my face, my design, my make. Behold, I create, and I am!
…so what will I make next?
How about a planet? Much mightier a task for mine eldritch arms. I'll need lots of hydrogen, lots of carbon, and… what goes into making a planet? Now that I stop to think, I don't think I'm too sure. Maybe I should stop and ask for directions.
Alright, but before I set off on such a journey, unknown be the people I'll see, I want a walking stick.
And so the comets sent me more inertia, and the planets gave me more gravity. A block of wood rose, unbounded by dimensions, and with a fierce crack I bend and break its tendons, hurtling the excess chips into the nearest star (nature's furnace, my workshop's wastebasket). I bend force to wood, I force wood to bend, until at last staring at me with inanimate faceless is my ashplant, my walking stick, SBOMTEN etched effortlessly around its diameter. Timeless rune, a window into who we once were. Characters and phonemes do not match. What does it matter? Wordplay for wandering wizards.")