#ThursThreads week 62

Prompt: http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.com/2013/03/thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales.html

The two travelers reached the gully during a brief respite from the rains one morning late in the last year. The full moon was setting in the western sky, bloated and red, casting its diseased glow over the riverbed; the swollen river frothing with the jetsam of a lost world. On a hillock near the far side of the river was a rough shack, the bodies of its most recent occupants lying mangled and decaying in the doorway. Alastair spit out the scabflower seed he’d been chewing and cursed. “Fuck, man, there’s a babe there. No goddamned justice anymore.”

“No goddamned much of anything anymore. What good is justice?” Sebastian was the younger of the two, and he faced the end with equal parts equanimity and callousness. “There’d better be a place to cross this river. I didn’t walk all the way from New China not to.”

“There will be, you jackass. And you didn’t walk from New China – I saw you get off that stolen ‘copt back at the spaceport. Now shut up. We just have to go north a bit.” Alastair hefted his pack and began shambling along the bank, dragging his lame right leg with each step.

Sebastian popped a scabflower seed in his mouth and followed. Not that he knew it, nor would he have cared, but the man who in the very near future would be the last on Earth walked the same path as the one who’d taken the first steps, back before time.


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