no title - date unknown

We’ve been on the move for weeks now. 
Most of what we come across is a reminder of how bad this is. 
Seeing hundreds of years of hard work and collaboration torn down and burned to the ground.  Most of the places we’ve come across have been abandoned, left for dead like the rest. 
A few days ago we found a camp of about 15 people. 
As soon as we saw them, we knew they weren’t doing any better than the rest. 
A family, an old man, a young woman, a young man, the typical story. 
They were thin, hungry, some were sick, and they all had the grief in their eyes. 
Like everyone else we’ve come across they were in mourning. 
Mourning the loved ones hey lost, the world that was gone, and the way things were taken from us.  They had questions like everyone else.  “Who are you?  Do you know what’s happening? Got any food to eat?”  Our answers always fell short of their hopes.  Like them we we’re just trying to “get away” whatever the fuck that means.  And like most of the others, they were desperate.  Desperation is dangerous because it has no conscience.  It’s a cousin of the purest necessity and it can’t be trusted with the morals of man. 
We approached them with caution and told them the usual story.
That we knew nothing and were just like them. 
Looking for anything familiar, anything to eat. 
Like all the others they were conflicted, divided, arguing constantly in the chaos of what’s been left behind for us.  This one guy named Michael kept going on about how lucky the ones who died on the last day were.  How if he knew what awaited us he wouldn’t have bothered fighting.  More pointless bullshit, because at the end of the day he didn’t have the guts to let death into his life.  Then again, neither do we, so that night we abandoned them and kept moving away from the city.  I’m sure they won’t make it far.