o one knew when the war began. Several generations had been born since black star day. The day the earth had ended, or the day the world began. We were the descendants of the survivors. Our great, great grand parents found themselves on a barren planet. Some survived because they prepared. The dug holes underground. They predicted that the world was going to fall apart. Their bunkers protected them from annihilation. Their food supplies would last 10 years. They collected guns for years. When judgement day finally came,they had enough ammunition to protect themselves from any intruders. Some survived for no reason. At least that's what they say. Some genetic mutation ignored the radiation and didn't kill them. At least it didn't kill them on the outside. On the inside the hurt, anger, despair had no ending. They walked through the world of death the only survivor in their town, or African village, township in Europe or rice patty in China. Eventually, some of them found the others, only to be rejected and called Mutants. The others wouldn't let them near their daughters. The years past with unknow