I joined up with a few men below the Arctic Circle, but had to leave them. One of them fell sick a day after I joined, and another followed him. I figured I was a carrier, so I left in the night, still heading North. They bombed the North, too, to make sure no one got the pitchblende. I ran through the woods; I hid in caves. At night I would look at the moon, and the little sprinkling of stars left across the sky. After the fourth year I didn't see any more human beings. I didn't have time to look. All my day was spent filling my belly. It was a full-time job, just to gather grasses, and perhaps kill a rabbit with a stone. I became pretty handy with stones. I didn't even know when the ten years were up. To sum up, I don't suppose I'm the last man on earth. There must be others, hiding in caves in other parts of the world, waiting on islands, on mountaintops. You can check my story with them, if you can find them, but I think you'll find it pretty accurate. Now as for me.... _I suppose I've been as sinful as most, but that's for you to judge, Sir._ _My name is Adam Ostersen. I was born in Pine Grove, Maine, in June of...._