Project 43

I don't know if it's September anymore. I'm in a camp. I've been exposed as well as... as everyone here...

Things have been strange, and I haven't had time to write. To be honest I was lucky I even had this book on me, and it hadn't gone with Trinity.

Trinity...

Mom...

I don't even know how to write this without sounding crazy. They keep telling us we're crazy, but I know the before. I know what I saw and now things are so different.

I'm different.

Anyone potentially infected went to sickbay and the light is dim. There's a draft. How did I get here?

I'm trying to collect my thoughts but the pain... tears keep falling as I write this.