I’m so glad I know Anton is safe. It sounds like he’s been through a lot. I hope he’s getting to rest tonight and maybe heal a little bit. There’s more to his story, and I’m sure he’ll tell me soon enough, but I don’t want to rush him. It sounds like he’s in a tight spot and what he went through sounds pretty awful. I wouldn’t try to process it all at once either.
Is it possible that the Martians are making pacts with people? At the very least, some kind of mutual arrangement? Is this the world we’re about to live in - one where people are scrambling to give each other up to our conquerors, just for the vague hope of relative safety? A system that will benefit the worst people, if it benefits anyone at all?
And is that any better than the lawlessness we might end up facing if we don’t find a way to drive the invaders out? Every day it looks more and more grim. I wish I could say I think we’re going to be able to fight them, but I don’t know. They’re vicious, they don’t care about us, they’ve got more technology than we do… I mean, nothing they’re doing makes any sense to me, or even Penny really, but there’s got to be a logic to it, right? They have to be planning something larger. That or they’re just mindless killing machines, and I don’t believe that’s true. Not all the way true.
Today has been uneventful for me. Just a lot of driving. Sometimes we hear the MAGUH of the tripod horns blazing in the distance, and the endless traffic jam speeds up a little bit. It’s always behind us. We’re always just outrunning them a little bit. Barely a step ahead.
Are they trying to chase us? What the hell are they doing? If they’re going to kill us, why don’t they just do it already? I know they can. I’ve seen the pictures of New York and Chicago and London and Moscow and Beijing and Dubai and God knows where else. Are they only concerned with the cities? Can they not be bothered with a perpetual traffic jam fleeing through the catskills? And why haven’t they taken down the internet yet? They’re not even trying to understand us. I don’t even know if they hate us. I don’t know what they’re thinking, and it makes me more mad than anything.
The Red Weed is everywhere now. It grows so quickly that if we stop for too long, it starts to grow on our tires, and we can hear it ripping away when we start back up again. I’ve almost gotten used to the smell, that mild aroma of burnt almonds. It’s almost sweet to me now. We try and keep it out of the car but we have to roll our windows down sometimes. It’s so hot, too hot for an Upstate November. Everyone seems to agree that’s the Red Weed’s fault too.
It’s turned from a light purplish-red frost into huge thick glops, like a bunch of fat red slugs clustered together. I’ve seen it creep over surfaces in minutes, moving imperceptibly but definitely moving, like the hands of a clock. Expanding and contracting, expanding just a little more each time, extending its reach. It reminds me of this one video Penny showed me of an organism called a slime mold. She was all interested in how it managed to map out an accurate representation of a subway, or something.
I love watching Penny talk about stuff like that, even if I don’t absorb very much of it. To her credit, she listens to me rant about Dali too, and I doubt she takes much of that in. Except where Penny’s eyes shine when she talks about her passion, I’m probably just annoying about it. I know I can be kind of snobby, like Anton. It’s all our dad’s fault, really. He passed some of that lawyer arrogance onto us.
Max has started praying before he goes to sleep now. I wish I could believe in God while all this was going on. Not like I could before, but it’s even harder now.
Maybe we have a god, and so do they, and their god beat the shit out of ours or something. That’s a neat idea for a painting actually. I’ll remember to make that if I ever see the inside of a studio again.
Keep going. That’s all I can think right now. Get to New Jersey and get to New York. Find Penny. Board a ferry. That’s as far as it goes and that’s as far as I need to do.
I’m getting tired. A nap would be nice. Just another half hour.