• He staggered through the broken city, what used to be one of the liveliest cities on Earth now lay in ruins, a mere memory is all that remain of the once amazing buildings. London; it used to be known as the home of the Queen, and the keeper of the lovely Big Ben, now both Her Majesty’s palace and the giant clock tower fall silent, the bells no longer toll to keep the time, and there’s never an important meeting with the Queen.
    It’d been at least a week without shelter, and even longer without a decent meal; though he was trained to keep his head I these types of situations, though there wasn’t much head to keep. A mass virus had whipped out most of human civilization and only the smart or lucky had survived. He’d never considered himself lucky, if he was would be have all the horrid scars that plague his body as he does now? Or maybe, he’d not been captured and thrown into a cage like an animal, with others like him. No, he wasn’t the luckiest man on earth, but now it was man-eat-man, and he’d proved himself a cannibal at times. More literally then figuratively.
    Most of the sepia buildings lay in ruin, not a decent place to hide from the incoming storm. There was always the option of hiding out in the sewers, the water was turned off to stop the spread of the virus, so it wasn’t clean down there, but it was dry at least. Of course, who knew what could be hiding down there? It was unsafe to sleep with all the piped tunnels leading every which way, you’d never be able to watch your back; and he’d learned full well that survivors like to hide in the sewers, and that they didn’t like outsiders.
    A loud crash of thunder, and a streak of bright lightning pierce the darken clouds. He’d better make up his mind one way or the other; go to the unsafe sewers, or stay in the storm and get sick, or worse, struck by lightning. The droplets of cool rain started to fall, an almost calming feeling of purity in this now hectic world. Though, in a flash it turns from a few drops to a downpour, and he finds himself standing in the rain for a while.
    He spreads his arms out, welcoming the water, letting it wash the blood and dirt off his body and letting it drench him. He shakes his head, and the droplets go flying off out of his long blond hair as he runs his fingers through the locks. It was a nice feeling all in all, but another crackle of thunder and the tree just next to him comes crashing down; a vague reminder that this wasn’t the safest place to have and nice little ‘shower’.
    With a grumble, he decides to think his options over again, and the sewer is a lovely little dry hole. Dirty dry hole, but still a dry hole. He’d crawled out of worse places, and had seen things to human should bear to anyway. What’s a little dried s**t compared to that? The fallen tree, blackened where it had been struck lay in flames, ember jumping from it, reaching out to touch and spread the life of it. Not too far from it was the man-hole, too dangerous to go down the one so close to the burning foliage, he’d have to take the nearest one to it. Just a little ways down the cobblestone road.
    Another crash. The tip of a thick both slams the stone in front of him, and jags across like a jumping fountain. Like the storm was attacking him, or like it was urging him to get to the sewers, like there was something don there he had to see, or something up there that he had to avoid.
    With a slight hop he took off running, no, sprinting for the man-hole. Any longer up here and he’d more then likely get struck, chances are it was being directed at him anyway because of all the metal he had on him.
    A quick stop forced the puddle to splash up his leg, thanks to knee high combat boots, he doesn’t fall, and just as soon as he gets to the cover, he lifts it with a mighty grunt as the heavy steel he moved. Not bothering to put the cover back on he jumps down to the bottom, about a twenty foot drop, but nothing for military training.
    A loud thud as he hits the bottom and another guttural grunt as the gets to his knees. Just in time for another both to streak across the sky. He lets out a sigh, and looks to his options. Left seems to lead down further into the sewers and more then likely into a reservoir that should be mostly wide-open and spacious enough to keep a look-out. While as right seems to lead to a winding pathways of tunnels, which will probably lead to the reservoir at some point anyway.
    He chooses to go the quicker path, he’s tired and wet, the sooner he could get dry and some rest; the better.