The airport isn't safe anymore. The control tower is ablaze and the monstrous sounds on the wind will keep us from investigating any further.
We walk parallel to the roads and lie down in hiding when we hear other travelers. My legs are sore and my mouth is dry from answering her barrage of questions. There's so much of this world that she doesn't understand, and so much I want to tell her, but I just can't. Not right now. Yuki's death has weighed on us both, yet she retains an innocence. I'm trying so very hard not to ruin it.
We came across the remains of a petrol-burning car in the forest and she asked if it could still be alive. I had to explain it was never alive. Those machines had no souls. I instantly regretted saying that, because it only lead to more painful inquiries. I told her I had a headache and needed some quiet.
When the sun is up, we're wary of other Humans. When the moon rises, we worry about worse creatures. We're on a road to nowhere now, and I was always paranoid, but I can't shake the feeling that the man I let escape is watching us.
Going further inland would be a mistake. That has become clear from the increasing destruction we're encountering. I'm hopeful that if we can make it south to the Mediterranean Sea, even if it means going through the Alps, we might be able to find a small boat. An island sounds perfect, and I think Corsica should be the end goal. But with our luck it will be beset by some sort of invincible sea monsters.