Cold wet mud. Cold wet cloths. Cold wet bed. Cold wet food. No change there then. How can it be that a man can live is hole life in these condition’s knowing that there is something better out there, but yet I would not rather live any were else. There were all kinds of people hear tall, thin, fat, short, legless, arm less, footless and even some people who had 10 toes on one foot. Me, I am a third generation ‘Deviation’ which means that my Gran and Granddad were chased out of the Good Lands. They would tell me stores about how stupid people were back there, thinking that people having 11 fingers were some how ungodly. Aparently they kill the children who have any thing wrong with them.
It had been along time since the Bringers had left for the town Wacknuk, but now after about 3 weeks thé Bringers had arived with food and a few people who had recently escaped from the Good Lands. But what I was bothered was my brother. It was the first time he had left on a Bringers experdishion in years. The last time he had left on a experdishion he had killed a man with his bow and arrow. It had taken a long time for him to recover. But he was good now healthy, happy and most importantly full of food.
Cold wet mud, cold wet cloths, cold wet bed, hot warm food. Things were good and I my brother was back. He was the only family I had now my mum and dad had been killed when they were running from a petrol. There last act was to tell my brother to hold me and wate in the bush he was there when my parents were cut down he saw the joy in the killers faces. He was there when the people comited gods will.