From the Diaries of a Legend...
May 9th, 2251May 8th, 2252
First time I got the dates mixed up, but given we just ran out of water last night, maybe it's that baker of a sun to blame. We’ve been keeping track of the humidity for a week now. The rains seem to congeal over what used to be the city of…Phoenix. About the only patch of the map that still shines for me, so maybe that’s a good sign.
Joan is holding up well, even with the babe in her belly. Fortunately, she ain’t ballooned too bad so that old cart’s holding her fine. Sam’s still trying to figure out that damned gas-guzzler of his, but he’s made that his burden to bear so I’m not fighting him anymore. Maybe he can get it going, maybe some of that ancient gas he dug up is still good. That’s his bag to tie.
Not getting any younger out here. In fact, every day I move closer, the memories start to fade a little. Memories of what ol’ Ma and Pa said about everything. Before the war, before the bomb. All that shit.
Fur’s bleaching, went from gray to off-white over the last few days. Seems that crackpot lotion some of the fellow wayfarers were selling wasn’t doing all it should have. It was a good shot, but no dice. Only cost me a couple chunks of scrap anyhow. Here’s hoping it doesn’t fall off anytime soon, we’ve had some bad flareups on the Geiger counter today.
When I get there, and I don’t know when, where “there” is, or any of that, but when I get there, it’s all got to come back. The folks, the buildings, the town, everything. If they call it “New Phoenix,” “Marshall’s Land,” or “Timbuktu” for all I care, I just want to make sure we can keep it alive. Keep it flourishing. Keep it true to that grand old flag I remember Pa flying on the front of that old house back in
Back in Kansas, was it?
Gonna flip back through the book to refresh my memory. I can’t lose them again.
This last line’s for you God: watch over us, protect us, and see us through. A rapture by our hands isn’t how this ends. Not by a long shot.
Forever onwards, James Baron Marshall