Day 174: 22 Jan 2011
Portland Airport to Wilmington International Airport. Direct flight on a nearly empty commercial plane. It was just me, Jared, Cassie, Black, Eric Drake, and some young Air Force guy named Briggs.
Turns out Briggs was a medic. That was fortunate, because Jared was looking like shit. Briggs confirmed it -- Jared was poisoned. The slug was probably dead. Jared's thick, gray skin was peeling away, showing new pink skin underneath.
"Will he live?" I asked.
"Don't know," Briggs said. "Not like they cover this in paramedic training. I'll keep an eye on him."
When we landed in Wilmington, I realized I was home. It was strange-- I hadn't thought of this place as home (or,really, at all) since, I don't know, shit started going haywire out in the desert months ago. But here I was. Presumably, I still had an apartment here.
"Come on," Black said to me and Cassie. "We have to meet some people."
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