Dopass.com

Dearest Daughter,

I fear I will not be able to write again for some time. My survival is not at all assured in this place and lately I have come to realize that the changes caused by this disease -- no, this process -- are not yet done.

My eyes have begun to pale. They are a shocking sight to those that see them and it becomes harder and harder to hide what I am. I've taken to wearing smoked glasses, but I fear that will only work for so long.

You might wonder how I have managed to survive this long and if I made it to Los Angeles. The answer to the first is one I don't understand myself, so I will begin with the question of LA. I did indeed make it to the city. I was closer to the shore than I expected and some came upon the highway that runs up the and down the coastline. I was came across a beach, a favorite spot for surfers and green-earthers. It was interesting, the rags I wore (that I still wear, but I will explain that more later) drew very little attention among them.

The few that ask supplied their own answers. "whoah," they would say, "Are you some kind of priest? Like a monk? A Shaman?" I said nothing and merely nodded. I think they thought I was mute, or perhaps they believed I had taken a vow of silence. It was convenient for me in any event, but not everyone was fooled. A small group of green-earthers took me aside the first night I was there on the beach and they confronted me.

They knew I had the disease and they were not afraid. They told me that they had already smuggled many refugees from Ecuador and places south to freedom further north. Apparently news of the disease's scope has leaked out already, but only from those locations in the third world that lacked the resources to keep it contained. I didn't have the heart to tell them I was an American, or that our own camps were spread up and down the coast already. What would it help for them to know they had likely delivered these refugees right into new camps? I hope that was the right choice.

None the less, they offered to help me if they could. I told them I needed to be in Los Angeles and they agreed to take me there that very night. On the way they explained their movement. The Green Earth movement had changed in the time I had been interred in the camp. The disaster in Canada was a catalyst for them, forging the soft ineffectual organization they had been into the hard unyielding movement they are today. I suspect they have as much desire to remain invisible as I. They claim the Patriot act has been reinstated and that Gitmo is once again a shadow prison. I wonder how many of us are kept there.

I wonder when I started to think of those us with the disease as "us" and everyone else as "them." Perhaps I have spent too much time in this shadow world of movements and hidden camps. I must maintain perspective.

When I arrived in Los Angeles, I was shocked at the site of it. Parts of the city were burning! The radio called it a forest fire that spread out of control and down into the city, but the Green Earthers claim otherwise. They say a missile struck the city. I can't imagine that's true, but they were adamant; something fell from the sky and struck the city, green and luminous. They say the fires spread from the point of impact out. I have to admit, the hills so very little evidence of a massive forest fire, but why would the government hide a terrorist attack of such magnitude?

Eli and Aaron have no idea, either. They arrived in the city from San Francisco days after the fire started. Ah, I apologize I have gotten ahead of myself, haven't I? Yes, child, I have met your cousins. I am proud to call them family, they are men of conviction.

Eli is passionate and resolute, perhaps even a little stubborn and rash, but a man of strong convictions in any event. His brother Aaron is the ice to his fire, cool, calculating and rational - but he is just as strong in his desire to see justice restored to our world. They were surprised to find out who I was when we met, let me tell you!

When Jared smuggled them out of Oregon he said only to go to Los Angeles and that someone would meet them there at the observatory on a Wednesday night and speak the code phrase. It was pure luck that they were there the first day I attempted the rendezvous; they had their own troubles getting from northern California to LA. Even though they themselves show no signs of the disease, they are on a terrorist watch list because of the way they disappeared when the soldiers came to take their father.

I don't know what history will say of this time, but you should know that our own government hunts these two like animals. They are not alone in this if the government knew I was free I am sure I would be similarly hunted. Only the fact that I am already dead saves me from their fate. None the less, I am in danger simply being near your cousins, but I cannot execute the Plan without them.

They want to free their father, but we do not know where the camp is and it is too dangerous to go search that desert ourselves; it would draw the wrong kind of attention. Instead we have focused our efforts on contacting those Green Earthers that have been helping the afflicted. We have explained our desire to crusade for humane treatment of those with this disease and they seem to be like-minded. I believe we are becoming our own movement, separate from the GE, but only time will tell. If this alliance plays out the way I hope, we will not just be a movement, we will be an army.

But what to do with an army? I have not told your cousins, but I have discarded Jared's Plan for my own. Simply exposing the camp will not be enough. The camps in south America have drawn no protest from the people or our government. I don't believe these people care about us. I think they would rather we simply disappear. It is a cruel irony that so many of us already have.

So, I find myself at a crossroads. If I can, indeed, raise an army, what will I do with them? Will we literally fight? Or will we be an underground to help the afflicted find freedom? Part of me wonders if there is any freedom to be found, for anyone. the atrocities I have seen are great, but I suspect they are only just the beginning. My only hope is that you yourself are protected from this madness. I have made inquiries, when I can, but so far I have found no clue of your whereabouts. I simply don't have the information I need to find you, yet. I first need to know more about those that took you, and so far I have nothing.

I will never stop looking, but you know that. One day I will find you and we will be together. Heaven help anyone that stands in my way.

I love you my child.

Your father,

- Michael Mendoza