Her Diary

Day 474:

We drank again. Eclipses are usually tough on the group’s morale, especially when they’re strange colours like the red one today. I wanted to keep a clearer head, and nights like these when everyone else is passed out are always perfect to have some alone time doing the solo night shift on watch duty.

I still can’t decide whether or not I like when Charlie gets drunk, especially during his blackouts. I suppose I’m enjoying feeling needed. Tonight he held me again by the burn barrel as he wept and babbled his drunken nonsense, precariously balancing the bottle of single malt tucked away between his legs. He never talks about who he lost last year, but we all figured that I must resemble someone – maybe a daughter? It would explain why he’s always so hard on me most of the time, except for when he drinks this much. He was his usual self today during the supply run, but I saw it in his eyes again… when they looked like deep sad pools. This was the first time that he actually cried in front of everyone else.

He’s finally asleep face-down now. I noticed the delicate silver chain around his neck for the first time a few months back (months? Weeks? I don’t really know anymore), but tonight it’s out on full display. He’ll probably stuff it right back under his layers of flannel at some point in the night when he wakes up from his usual bout of nightmares. He was a hardened veteran soldier, so we always assumed it was his dog tag or something, but I get the sense that it’s something more sentimental than that. Maybe one day he’ll talk about it.

I left some more food out for the dog that kept following us. It’s probably a good thing that I haven’t named him. I know I’d just get attached like the last time.

Day 475:

We finally found out what this place was used for! After kicking in a frosted-over door leading to a staircase to the second floor, we found loads of offices with paperwork stuffed into loads of the desks. Apparently this was some sort of civil service building.

As spacious and easy to protect as it is, it’s getting too cold to stay in a place that is this difficult to keep warm. There’s always the risk that the firelight will be visible through the enormous windows on the higher floors, and settling on the ground floor would essentially be asking for flood damage to ruin our set-up. Imani was explaining to us the other day how important it was to not settle on the top floor – something about the acid rain and roof integrity? I’m not sure, I wasn’t really listening.

Imani went out on a supply run with Charlie after sundown. I think she wants to get him alone to talk some sense into him. Maybe she’ll stop him from being such a damn liability. The guy has his problems, but I don’t think she has it in her to leave him behind, or worse. Plus, he’s the best tracker in the group.

I wish we didn’t have to leave here. We finally feel settled. Not to mention, this place is on higher ground – which is ideal during heavy rain. Maybe I can talk everyone around? Besides, it’s not like we have anywhere to be rushing off to. Noriko managed to get some hot water going, so that’s something to celebrate.

Day 476:

Charlie seemed more downcast today. I hope Imani wasn’t too harsh on him, he’s definitely become more sensitive since we left the countryside. He’s a bit of a pain, but he’s our pain.

I think I saw a light flicker on in the church from across the square. It was definitely a candle or fire or some sort. Nobody on watch saw any movement this week – and we’ve actually gotten better at spotting things since doing shifts in pairs. Seeing as how I normally can’t sleep, I’m usually on the night shift with whoever else would volunteer. But tonight it was just me. I’m going to keep an eye on it, but maybe I really do need to rest if even I’m doubting myself.

If it were a threat of some kind, surely they would have made themselves known to us by now? Maybe they’re another group of people just like us? Or maybe just a lost soul, trying to make it on their own? I would have gone to investigate as I remember how lonely it got out on the road, but I know the group would never go for it.

I’m glad I started this diary. When I saw Noriko with a diary of her own a little while back, it hit me that it would probably be healthy for me too, in light of the current situation – what with the world having a therapist shortage on account of them being thrown into space, along with everyone else who made the cut for the ARK.

Day 477:

I helped Imani change the bandages around her ankle today. It finally felt like the resentment I held towards her had subsided enough to spend more than a few minutes with her, and she welcomed the time set aside for just the two of us. She’s not so bad, just a little too abrasive and head-strong for her own good. I suppose it’s completely possible that we got off on the wrong foot. I suggested she did something nice for Charlie, as he was the one who found her and made her a leg splint after realising something was off when she hadn’t returned from her solo trip. Her miscalculating that jump has admittedly slowed us down as a group.

Imani definitely feels the atmosphere in the group towards her. She told me that she’d understand if we left her behind. She shared with me that she had done that to someone else in the early days, when the sea levels rose quickly. Even though she didn’t do it willingly, I can tell it still haunts her. It can’t have been easy leaving a parent dependant on oxygen tanks and daily medicine.

I did my best to reassure her that nobody will get left behind, but I suppose it’s hard to promise these things – especially now.

Day 478:

I’d just finished giving Charlie’s hair a trim when I saw the delicate chain around his neck again. I only saw it for a second or two, but I could have sworn that it looked like there was a small silver heart locket dangling from the chain. When he saw that I saw and our eyes met, he sheepishly broke eye contact and pulled his collar taught to hide it again.

I think I actually saw a star earlier tonight for the first time in months. We can actually see out of the windows on the second floor – given how we were almost ambushed in the last place, we were quick to cover the windows on the lower floors.

Kieran and I used to stargaze all the time from the little roof above the garage. We’d wait for our parents to say goodnight and then he’d sneak across the hallway to my room and I’d lower him out of the window. I still remember how to spot the constellations that he showed me, but we would have more fun spotting things like rabbits and boots in the stars. I would give anything to hear his infectious little giggle again.

Saying goodbye to them was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but their big brains were exactly what passengers on the ARK were required to have (apparently arts degrees have absolutely nothing on STEM subjects!). I have no way of knowing that the ARK ever took off, but I always look out for the stars… I suppose it makes me feel close to them.

Day 479

The air had that strange electricity today. Not altogether different from a thunderstorm, but instead when the winds pick up and allow the clouds actually part for once – usually the cloudy spirals make the sky mostly overcast. We were all pretty sure that it meant there would be another meteor shower, so all five of us set up whatever furniture we could find on the roof to watch it.

People used to ensure that their base would have a bunker or basement in the hopes that they could at least hunker down and panic safely in there the next time. Now we’ve all realised that the meteors are about as dangerous and frequent as the rainstorms.

I couldn’t tell if everyone wanted to see if our building was in the line of fire, or if they just wanted to watch the spectacle. Probably a bit of both, I suppose. We all passed around a bottle of whiskey and took it all in as the sky changed from the usual dull yellow to a fiery orange as the purple meteors raced towards the horizon.

I agree with what Alex said up there on that roof: “I never thought that global warming would look so beautiful.”

He was woken sharply by the sound of a can falling to the stone floor, a relic from his grand feast of beans earlier that night. Months of hyper-vigilance had left his sleeping pattern in disarray and his weary blue-grey eyes showed it. His bruised knuckles were like stamps in a passport showing how fraught his journey to this very church had been. The church was comfortable enough for a short stop, but he knew that it was by no means safe. In this new world, threats are all but guaranteed – human or otherwise– and he could see that the acid rain had compromised the roof beyond repair. He extinguished the flame in the kerosene lamp and readied himself for departure, exhaling sharply as he looked back at the lone candle lit on the stand.

He exercised his judgement as he peered through the planks covering the windows and slipped outside undetectably. Across the street and through the square, he went bounding all the way till he reached the crumbling steps adorned with columns. As he wandered through the grand halls with high ceilings, he noticed the tell-tale signs of people occupying the building: the many muddy footprints leading to and from the stairs and unlit kerosene lamps in every room. His adrenaline piqued as he wondered how many there were, and whether it was so quiet because they were simply sleeping, or watching him. He slowly ascended the stairs, careful to keep his shotgun to hand – even though he hoped not to use it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he passed a set of signs suggesting that the building was both ripe with supplies. He proceeded to enter the room closest to the stairs and was surprised to find four or five beds. The deep purple twilight strobed through the planks on the windows, illuminating the room just enough so that he could see. Apart from empty bottles, he found that there were no belongings around the room, suggesting that the group had abandoned this base. By the open metal barrel in the centre of the room and found a small book with a thin red ribbon book marker. Turning to the first page, he saw written in neat penmanship “Day 474”. Smiling, he was filled with hope that there were still good people left out there, and he vowed to find them.