The thing with Harris was that he couldn’t get it clear in his head: there were no countries...

The thing with Harris was that he couldn’t get it clear in his head: there were no countries anymore.  Nobody wanted them.  Everyone was just trying to stay warm, stay fed.  He kept saying he was going to be the one to do it, he’d find a piece of land somewhere and start one, and Wizard would shake his head, tell him why it wouldn’t work.  Anything worth having, they’d kill you for, he said. And what good were they anyway, if you think back?  Wizard gestured with his arm and spit.  I mean, just look where it got us.  Harris got moody and quiet, he started snapping twigs in his hands, maybe just to do something, to work the heat out of him.  Wizard was right, of course.  He was always right.  There was nothing here worth having.  No place safe, nothing constant.  When the world ended, something inside of us went with it– good or bad, I don’t know.  Harris couldn’t get his mind around it.  We couldn’t go back.  We were on our way to something different.