My eyes burn and I can hardly keep them open. Ashes and smoke blow through the wind toward me and in to my mouth and eyes as I say hello to the families and children walking up and down the smoky and dry streets, the children would often call me ' " Or "Uncle Gilbert". It wasn't a bad thing I suppose, The smell of burning wood and bodies fill the air, It's a smell that you can never really get used to. I wonder how many people have lost their lives in this god damned war between the biters and us, thousands? millions? Probably ten times that. God knows we might be the only refugee camp in the entire world. We've got 300 people. That means 300 mouths to feed. We have cattle, horses ,goats, pigs, and other animals living in barns around the camp. I fear we'll need to find more by winter, it's going to be rough, but we've made it through one winter I'm pretty sure we can deal with one more. We lost a newborn last winter to hypothermia and I don't plan to lose another this year, especially with the birth of my little brother. I would never want to lose him. he's all I have left aside from my mother, my father was bitten and he had to be "put down" as the other refugees call it just so he wouldn't become a biter. I try not to think of it much though, he was a bitter old man but I loved him. My mother still isn't quite over it, she'll say his name sometimes and then she'll remember that he won't answer. It's hard but we get by with what little food we get from the distribution office. They'll give us a slab of meat and some bread with vegetables to last us 3 days and the process repeats. Sometimes there will be canned food and dry pastas included if you were one of the lucky ones. Unfortunately, my family was not so I had to hunt and bring back more food. I'm still not sure if we're going to make it.