Dear Diary

October 14, 77 P.C.

Dear Diary-

This morning, like many others, I took the mountain path before sunrise. Climbing the mountain, I cautiously hoped today would be the day he would come back for me. Days are long when you are waiting for someone. Walking this path up the mountain I always think back to his last words to me, “I’ll come back for you.” Breathing lightly to minimize effects of the miasma clinging to the treacherous path, I seek beauty in this gray world. I am grateful for the thin air, at this altitude it maximizes the length of outdoor exposure. Conditions permitting, I often visit this high vantage point at dawn or dusk. The palate of my existence is so gray, even a momentary reprieve is sublime. Perched upon my rock high above the bunker facing east, I wait, keeping my breath shallow, keeping my eyes to the horizon.

At first, the impenetrable black of night starts to lighten, a nearly undetectable slow creep towards the daylight. Darkness gives way to gray, nearly the same color as the dirty concrete walls of our bunker. Right before the sky settles into its normal ashy tone, color will wash over our septic world. Brilliant reds and deep yellows will briefly cut the dank fetid clouds masking the surface world. These colors moving through poisonous air would shatter, creating repeating fractals of color across the whole sky. Today was predicted to be a particularly light day of airborne particulates, as it is. The lightness of this toxic air provides a particularly splendid sunrise. These brief moments of expanse and color sustain me during these long stints underground.

High above I can see for miles into the empty lands. On a clear day like today I can even make out the surface of the valley below and the road leading to the entrance of our bunker. I sit, taking advantage of the good conditions to remain outside as long as I could. As the light-head that precedes headaches from breathing the toxic air started to arrive, I looked down toward the bunker. I was in disbelief. I thought my eyes were playing tricks. A moving glint in the distance! Something so shiny that even the dull light pushing through the thick air was reflected. Outsiders! I began an exhilarated descent.

Breaking from the tree line at the bottom of the mountain trail, I beheld an incredible sight. Before me sat a long, silver, potato shaped craft on wheels. Four giant beasts were harnessed to the front of this contraption. Each of them harnessed with a face shroud connected to the shiny pod by a thick hose. Upon approach I could make out the word “AirStream” emblazoned upon the side of this mystifying mobile machine. Its mirror hull in a stark relief against the giant concrete bunker door behind it.

A sharp voice broke the spell, “behind me girl!” Looking around, I now noticed I had run into the middle of a very tense situation. Several Militia-Men from the bunker had the silver craft surrounded. Weapons were pointed aggressively at the man who presumably had just arrived, his arms held up high over his head. The voice belonged to the Security Captain, who was pointing behind him with one hand, while holding a leveled pistol in the other. As I have never seen the Captain pull his gun out, I rushed to obey. Now standing behind the Captain I could appraise the Outsider.

He stood there in clothes much cleaner than most people I knew. The palms floating over his head were pale and spotless; this stood out to me the most. “I am a trader and an engineer,” the outsider was saying. “I can help fix equipment and purify water. I have news and goods from other settlements far away!” The strange man was wearing a white overcoat that went almost to his knees, lending much to his immaculate appearance. A black face framed by large curly hair ensured he was not the man who left me here so long ago.

“I just need a few days to rest the animals and I’d like to trade for some food.” To me, this seemed reasonable. Although he was not who I was hoping for, I was excited for the change in pace none the less.

“Look, I have much to trade” the Outsider explained as he slowly reached into his pocket.

The stranger slowly walked forward, toward the Captain, pulling a small item from his coat pocket while keeping the other hand high above his head. Clicking the item in his fist a couple times, a small flame appeared above the Outsiders hand. “I have a few of these fire makers to trade” he said in an offering toward the Captain. He was now only a dozen paces or so away. The cold lack of response from the Captain made the Outsider rethink his advance, as he stopped and tossed the fire maker to one of the Militia.

The stranger asked, “How about this?” He was apparently doing his best to not seem like a threat. With one hand still above his head, he produced with the other a small metal object hanging from a delicate chain.

In all my years I have never seen such a thing. The chain was so thin the links were nearly indistinguishable from where I was standing. I could see a heart shaped pendant with vine and flower patterns seemingly drawn into the metal.

“Do you have a Lady sir? A gift for her?” I was in absolute awe. I found the delicate details and sterling sheen of this item captivating.

“I don’t,” The Captain said dryly.

The stranger’s eyes drifted down to my face and the astonishment must have been clear. “Here little girl.” The stranger gently tossed me the piece, a strange knowing in his eyes as he looked into mine. I immediately caught the strange item and instinctively clutched it to my chest. The metal was warm. Reality had yet to set in, as I don’t remember what happened next. I heard someone say “Take her in,” while a hand gently turned me around and prodded me toward the bunker. All I could do was focus on the warm mass in my hands, I could not believe what had just happened.

I have been here in my room now looking at my new treasure for hours, contemplating the events and what I saw. My Keeper said this was a necklace of silver. Before the Calamity, people would display such things proudly, wearing it around their neck. I cannot imagine wearing something so valuable! I am determined to keep my treasure as secret and secure as I can. What kind of society could produce something so delicate and beautiful as this, while still creating such miserable conditions and destruction upon our planet? Turning the heart shaped metal over and over in my hands I discovered a seam. The seam led me to a miniscule hinge on one side. I pried gently on the seam opposite the hinge with my nails. The beds of my nails burned in pain at the strain of splitting the two halves. Eventually the small heart folded open, like a book. Inside sat a tiny folded piece of paper I gently pulled out and unfolded, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. The note had only two words. “I’m Coming.”

AR