I am writing this with a nine inch nail, on the floor of the cellar where I am hiding. I can hear the mad shrieks of the radiation infested animals outside. It's scary and it's horrible, you don't want to be in my foot rags right now. Whatever I have left of my feet after the frostbite, two toes I guess. But I do not feel pain when I walk though. The times I am not crawling through the debris of the world that once was.
The Big War has ended and there aren't enough of us left. Life was easy once, now it's all survival. The scientists said that cockroaches would survive the nuclear holocaust. As anyone could see now, they were wrong. It was not the cockroaches, they got eaten by the penguins.
No one here really remembers how it all started, which year the Big War began, or how many countries fought. It's all pointless really. What we know now is that its one planet and it's either us, the few groups of humans, or the penguin packs.
The radiation from the fallout of the nuclear wars triggered some nascent gene in the penguins and they transformed into the most vicious, ruthless killers in the history of mankind. Worse than man. They rose from icy pits of Antarctica and swarmed the cities like a plague of locusts. The animals were the first to get eaten. We tried weapons, but they were all useless. The penguins healed quick, bred quick, moved quick and killed like thunder from the Gods. For every one of us, there are more than a hundred of them. They have heard the sound of the nail on the floor, I can hear them slam into the door of the cellar. Any moment they will break in and they wil
