Dopass.com

My Daughter,

It has been a month since I last sat to write to you. My sense of you in this world grows ever more faint; I fear that you are being taken too far from this place for us to track you. When the despair hits me hardest, I fear that this feeling I have of you is a fiction that fades with hope, but Jared will hear none of it.

He has come to believe that the changes we have experienced have given some of us remarkable new abilities. Myself, I have darker suspicions. Only those of us who have survived the camp cough seem to exhibit any obvious abilities and while Jared refuses to consider it, I have come to believe that we were deliberately infected as part of some experiment in genetic engineering. Perhaps they seek to make a new breed of soldier, or perhaps they are simply testing biological weapons. Either way, I suspect that we are nothing but guinea pigs in their sick experiments.

Oh, how I hope you are living in a world where that thought is ludicrous! Yet, I have come to believe that no such world exists. With each day more newcomers are introduced to the camp. They all tell tales of growing chaos and unrest across the country due to the flood of refugees from the Canadian Disaster. We have seen none of these Canadians for ourselves, but even we have heard the tale of the nuclear accident along our mutual borders that has left most of Canada uninhabitable. As an engineer, I can feel nothing but contempt for a government that would let their nuclear reactors degrade to the point where an accident was even possible. As a father, I can only weep for the families devastated by the tragedy.

But, we cannot ignore the opportunity. If the tales are even remotely true, then the Plan might have a chance. With the governments focused on the problem of these refugees, our chances to remain undetected out in the world increase greatly. Our exodus is to begin soon. Perhaps because so many are dying, or perhaps because there is a spark of compassion in them still, the guards have allowed us to take limited excursions into the nearby desert to dispose of our dead. These trips are always supervised, so there is no chance of insurrection, but that doesn't matter to the Plan.

No one has told the guards that I have survived the camp cough, and indeed, I continue to show signs of worsening to anyone who comes to visit me. I'll be 'dead' before this day is done. Then, my good friend Jared and my brother in law Andrew will wrap the corpse in linen and throw it on the growing pile of corpses to be buried tomorrow. I don't relish the idea of a night spent amidst the moldering dead, but it will get me free!

I will have to find my own way out of the desert, but my friends have told me where to meet your cousins, Eli and Aaron. Together the three of us will put the Plan into motion. Hopefully it will one day free us all.

Farewell, for now.

I love you, daughter.

- Michael Mendoza, Your Father