| |
[Jul. 24th, 2020|02:57 pm] |
 |
|
|
| [This Is How The World Ends] |
[Sep. 2nd, 2011|09:34 pm] |
The plan such as it was at the moment was to put one foot in front of the other. And repeat. And keep your eyes open and your ears working - because humans were no longer at the top of the food chain. Looking around, John determined that the path in front of them was clear, and started slowly picking his way down it, keeping a grip on his gun as he did so.
Since they had gotten out of the bunker, it had been just one foot in front of the other. The humans that had survived were all on the move. Everyone who had a pulse was on the move constantly, trying to stay one step ahead of the machines. That was good - keep mobile, keep out of the machines grasp was a plan that John could back, but it made finding other people difficult. And he knew that they had to find other people, because there had be people to form the resistance. And John was trying not to think too hard about what his role in that was supposed to be.
Right at the moment he'd settle for making if off this footpath that was running through the wooded area they had found themselves in, and finding a place to make camp. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time.
"What do you think, another hour and then camp?" He paused in his forward march and looked up at the sky. He frowned then, and pointed forward - there was a break in the trees up ahead. "Do you see that? Is that smoke ahead?" |
|
|