Isaac Marion

“I find a grin spreading across my face. I don't know what I'm doing, how I'm doing it, or what will happen when it's done, but at the very bottom of this rising siege-ladder, I at least know I'm going to see Julie again. I know I'm not going to say goodbye. And if these staggering refugees want to help, if they think they see something bigger here than a boy chasing a girl, then they can help, and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No.We start lumbering north on the southbound freeway, and the thunder drifts away towards the mountains as if it's scared of us.Here we are on the road. We must be going somewhere.”

“I sigh inside, so exhausted by these ugly questions, but when did a monster ever deserve its privacy?”

“And yet ...But what if ...I want to do something impossible. Something astounding and unheard of. I want to scrub the moss off the Space Shuttle and fly Julie to the moon and colonise it, or float a capsized cruise ship to some distant island where no one will protest us, or just harness the magic that brings me into the brains of the Living and use it to bring Julie into mine, because it's warm in here, it's quiet and lovely, and in here we aren't an absurd juxtaposition, we are perfect.”

“I can no longer believe in any voodoo spell or laboratory virus. This is something deeper, darker. This comes from the cosmos, from the stars, or the unknown blackness behind them. The shadows in God's boarded-up basement.”

“But it does make me sad that we've forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else's, because I'd like to love them, but I don't know who they are.”

“I want a new past,new memories, a new first handshake with love. I want to start over in every possible way.”

“Not so easy, Mr Lennon. Even if you try.”

“If there are rules, we're the ones making them. We can change them whenever we want to.”

“Once you've arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.”

“I think the world has mostly ended because the cities we wander through are as rotten as we are. Buildings have collapsed. Rusted cars clog the streets. Most glass is shattered and the wind drifting through the hollow high-rises moans like an animal left to die. I don't know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it's not so important. Once you're arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which road you took.”

“There is no ideal world for you to wait around for. The world is always just what it is now, and it's up to you how you respond to it.”

“Writing isn't letters on paper. It's communication. It's memory.”