Thoren
By sunset, the last bus had arrived.
The sound of engines had long since faded, replaced by the quieter noises of people attempting to settle into lives they had not chosen. Children cried. Livestock complained from the pens. Somewhere in the distance, someone hammered boards into place while low voices carried through the cooling evening air.
Life.
Not comfortable or peaceful life. But life nonetheless.
Blackstone had spent nearly two centuries waiting for disaster. Today, disaster had finally arrived. Just not in the form my grandfather had imagined.
I walked through the settlement with supervisors and officials accompanying me, providing updates I only half listened to because most of the important information could be seen without anyone saying a word. Water systems were f
