XII. Old continent.

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   Since the incident, the days passed like a dream. Rosadella walked ahead, guiding the way with her map, she suffered great pain but could continue the journey. Sometimes the wound would bleed again, but slowly it began to close and heal. Nadine walked three meters behind her, in complete silence without lifting her gaze from the ground, with Wilfred's crab hanging from her belt. A few meters behind was Antonia. She often lagged, distracted by checking corners, cars, and bags. She had to jog to keep them in sight.

   The few attempts at conversation had ended in arguments, and some in slight aggression. Therefore, when night fell or they stopped to eat, they did not speak a word. The three constantly ignored each other's presence while simultaneously being aware of one another.

   They carried with them a reddish leather notebook where they wrote down all the information that might be useful. In the mornings, while walking, Rosadella would jot down notes on the weather changes and the animals seen. After the midday rest, she would leave it to Antonia without looking at her, placing it beside her. Antonia didn't write anything, just read... her only observation was that she hadn't found any substances, not even in Belgium, but she had no intention of noting that down. Finally at night it was Nadine's turn, who seeing what Rosadella wrote, focused more on the behavior of the survivors and the few drowned they had seen.

   When she finished writing, Nadine would read Rosadella's notes over and over again, dying to talk to her but knowing things were better this way. Conversely, Rosadella avoided reading Nadine's notes at all costs... it hurt too much how much she missed her.

   She could see her there, close to her, sleeping or drinking water. She was dying to run over and hug her, but the situation was too fragile.

   Antonia, however, couldn't retain what she read, and besides, she didn't care. She felt like she was going completely crazy. She could remember every day at the party with too much clarity. She remembered every person who had used her like an object, remembered everything she had done and given for a bit of substances. At night, she couldn't sleep thinking about that man, on her last night there, who had left indelible marks on her for life. She also remembered how she had been bathed in his blood... she felt dirty all the time.

   So many torments, so much withdrawal, made her constantly feel sick.

   In the city of Belgium, the notes in the book doubled:


   "The cold at night stopped being deadly a few weeks ago (no knowledge of the exact date of this change). The heat is still high for this time of year but slowly becoming bearable. The humidity is no longer so suffocating, you can barely feel it when it doesn't rain. The rainwater is no longer at high temperatures.

   Every day I manage to see at least one ray of sunlight filtering through the clouds for a few seconds.

- Rosadella. April 2036. Belgium."


   They often saw a survivor being touched by a tiny ray of sun. Automatically, people would stand still, facing the sun, eyes closed, with a small smile. Some even cried.

   Contact with the sun was scarce, survivors even more so.


   "Before Belgium: One survivor (a solitary man in a house, indifferent to our presence). One drowned (not sure), we could see him from afar jumping off a cliff. We are already halfway to the city, a couple of more days and we will be on our way to Amsterdam. So far, I have counted 8 survivors. All offered us help, they looked healthy despite the situation and hope could be seen in their eyes. Drowned: 0.

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