?Lorna Robin Macrae? Listening intently to her surroundings and moving as softly as her booted feet would carry her, Lorna made her way gradually south. Why was she in this region? Well, that was a whole different story. She'd booked her own flight among the chaos that reigned when people began to turn fully. The plane had landed in a rather remote airport in northern New York state, where Lorna hefted her bag and set off. Nobody asked questions; they'd been too busy scurrying around trying to organize things or gather their children closer, or too worried about where they were going next. Lorna was given all the attention of a shadow, so incognito did she travel on foot. One or two people glanced at her, but she was just another lone trip-taker to them.
Now, the young woman could see the peaks of tall buildings rising among the trees ahead. It had become considerably warmer now, and Lorna had her sweat-shirt unzipped and her hood down. The wind buffeted her dark curls of hair, but she brushed it aside quickly and kept moving. The road seemed like it had been given a purpose: make straight for New York City. Convenient for me, she thought to herself. The street was devoid of any life other than the trees and greenery that scraped up against the pavement. The only sign other than the cement that any humans had been here was the scattering of old, battered cars that got more and more numerous as she reached the city-outskirts. Although her steps were not exceedingly fast, she noticed how soon the buildings seemed to loom up above her. Here was where she'd really have to watch out.
The robots didn't patrol the parts of the city that were useless to them, but Lorna was aware that now and again a group would move through, armed to the teeth and just itching - if robots could itch - to destroy human nuisances. It wouldn't do much good to be caught somewhere without a gun; all she had were knives and a single old pipe she'd picked up just today from near a crashed car. It would come in handy, and maybe she could even upgrade it with a knife strapped to the bent top. Despite the danger of being nearly weaponless, Lorna stood discreetly under the thick foliage of an ancient-looking tree just where the first city-road started. She leaned on the trunk and pulled out a bit of dried fruit she'd brought along in her pack. "Better stealth my way through here," she murmured to herself as she chewed the dry bits. Once the small handful she'd chosen was gone, she knelt down and swung her pack swiftly and quietly off of her shoulders. She reached in a hand and sifted through the neat contents for one of her knives.
Half-smiling in a grim triumph, she slid a long, glimmering knife out from the depths of her pack. One edge was serrated, while the other was a perfect edge. The hilt was black, and it had been bound somewhere in the past with a black material not unlike electrical tape. Lorna had never taken it off, since it served as a good grip. In fact, the thought had never even crossed her mind. It was such a tiny little detail that was not needed to be looked over. With this knife at the ready in her right hand, she lifted the dark pack to her shoulders again and checked the area. Nothing moved save for the wind blowing a piece of old, yellowed paper across the street. Nodding as if to reassure herself, she nearly sprinted across the road until she was under cover of the nearest building's shadow. "I'll make for that warehouse over there," she muttered under her breath. Her dark blue eyes focused on the prize location briefly before she looked around and stepped softly through the shadows again. It would be better to get there as quickly as she could, even though the place was obviously attractive to anyone from outside the city. It was bound to have some treasure - maybe even canned food or something! - hidden within. Hoping for the best, Lorna headed for it.
She would have liked to have a little more darkness to shield her, but this would have to do. The sun had settled just a little lower in the sky; Lorna judged it to be about five in the evening. At this thought, she slowed her movements. She'd have plenty of time to make a concealed path for the building if she was careful. This calm intention was cut short when she heard a metallic noise suddenly burst upon the silent city. She winced and flattened herself against the wall, startled. How had the cyborgs managed to stay so quiet here was a mystery to her. As they got closer, their footsteps grew apparent and she could hear them calling to each other, as if they were searching for something, or someone. Giving a sigh that was close to a hiss, she judged their position.
The robots were on one of the main streets to her right. They would no doubt turn the corner at any second, and she'd been seen if they happened to glance over. To her left and across three or four blocks was the warehouse. "Just my luck." She'd have to move as fast as she could but still say quiet. Cursing inwardly, she bolted off towards the warehouse, careful not to stumble over anything. After getting past two blocks, she heard one of the robots shout to its companions. A bullet whistled past her head and Lorna dodged behind a twisting tree, panting heavily. "Dammit, stupid things. Why now?" With a small grimace, she kicked off from the ground and hurried towards her destination again, which earned her a hail of gunfire. With the adrenaline pumping, she couldn't feel the path one bullet tore through the edge on her left side. Blood was already gushing from it the instant it struck, but the bullet had only skimmed her. The only reason the wound was so bad was that the metal object must've had something in it that released upon contact. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted that her pursuers were not too far behind. With the knowledge that they wouldn't be able to smell her path or anything, she dashed down an alley that lined up with the east side of the warehouse. She leaped over a pile of stinking debris that some wild animal had probably created and then made a sharp turn towards the big building. She stumbled against a door, trying futilely to open it.
Her breath was fast and hard, but she looked around, ready to spend more of her precious energy. There. A pile of broken-down crates lay tumbled down against a smashed-out window. Clambering over them to the sound of the robots' clanging footsteps passing down the alley she'd just left, Lorna heaved herself into a small side-room. She lay shaking on the floor as her hunters went out of range. Sitting up, Lorna finally felt the effects of her wound. Her eyes traveled to her side, and her right hand clamped down on the wound right when she saw the nasty thing. The chemical or whatever that the bullet had released made her skin around the initial slice burn in pain. The wound bled a steady stream of dark blood that glistened in the half light of the tiny room she was in. Inhaling through her teeth in agony, Lorna forced herself to her feet and examined the room. It had long since been looted, but the tall metal shelves remained intact, surrounding the room entirely. The door in the corner was old and would probably make a lot of noise if she opened it, so she decided to rest now. "Better tend this thing if I don't want to become infected...."
Releasing her wound momentarily, she drew her backpack off of her shoulders and dug around quickly for some bandages. She'd thought ahead at the old man's shack a few days back and taken a roll of cloth and some disinfecting alcohol. Dampening one portion of the bandages with the liquid, she stripped her sweatshirt off and then lifted her now-torn shirt underneath. Closing her eyes at the severity of it, she patched the wound as best as she could. Face it, it could be worse. Stop being such a wimp and just cover it already. Lorna, steeled now, tightened the bandage around her midsection and lowered her shirt again, leaving her sweatshirt on the floor. Sighing tiredly, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes coolly, deciding to take a quick nap until she felt better.
