After his date, Edilio took Roger home and then returned to his own. He was the only one still living on the beach. He was the only one who had experienced the earth quake.
He had watched in a guarded silence as the crack split between his legs, tearing the ground open. He didn't panic like everyone else on the beach was. He knew something like this was going to happen. He expected it. It was only a matter of time. He had a dream about it.
Roger Sam Dekka Astrid Quinn. His friends. He looked for them instinctively.
They were out of Perdido Beach, he thought with a sigh. They wouldn't be here for this. That made him both happy and sad. They'd be safe, but he would be alone.
He'd have to survive this alone so he could find them once it was over.
Edilio sat down on the sand, his switch blade in his hand, fingering the blade.
And when a girl made of gold came to him and touched her fingers to his temples, he was ready for the unbearable tiredness that filled his bones. He was ready for the blackening view of the world. He was ready for the heavy darkness he felt in his heart.
His head hit the sand and Edilio slept.
When he came to, the newly rebuilt Perdido Beach was the wasteland that Edilio had spent nearly a year in. The grass was dead and the sky was clear and seemed to reflect the ocean. No clouds were in sight. No breeze blew through the palm tree tops. The waves in front of him no longer crashed or receded; the water sat and rippled weakly.
The brightness of the sun blinded him and for a moment he couldn't see anything. He rubbed his eyes, sighed, and stood up. If he was back here, there had to be a reason why and he couldn't be the only one. So he walked to town, fingering the blade of his knife in his pocket.