I went out with the patrol the other day to check out where they dropped the bomb. Nothing but a great big black scorch mark on a hill to be seen. A few charred bodies around the perimeter. Ones too far away from ground zero to be vapourised. What screwed with my head was that there was the body of a child there. Probably about 5 or 6 years old. Hadn’t thought about that before. Suppose I must have just shut out that thought. But why not? If old people and adults got this, why not the kids too? Hell, Adam has a form of the disease, but the lucky bugger somehow changed it in his body before being born. Still, that messed me up a bit, and makes me look at the wee girls’ decorations in my commandeered bedroom a little differently now. Where are those kids now? Did their parents eat them? Did they eat their parents? Were they in the lot that just got deep fried on that hilltop the other night? Man, if I thought things couldn’t be any more snafu (another bit of military jargon – look it up) then this just took it up a notch for me. My roommate didn’t seem all that concerned about it. Said he’d seen way weirder. Said he’d take me out on a patrol sometime with the SF guys and show me. Should be fun – the SF patrol, not the weirdo stuff he would rather show me than explain.