Guns, Germs, and Steel

Is this where I finally ended up?

The summation of the human race had me trapped in a place where the IQ was measured by the money in your wallet, and by the looks of it, it was in short supply. The thugs continued to drag their knuckles as I tried to flow into the traffic as much as possible. I pulled my hood up over my head in an effort to stay warm and to stay cool. I felt that blending in was mandatory. Despite the psycho killer wild west of a world out there, there wasn't much to go on here.

I was hoping that Casey would be reminded of me at some point in her trek. I was hoping that they were safe. I was hoping she was still as free as she was when they abandoned me.

I knew they were travelling in a pack. Dogs in the front and back. They carried UV lights and a necklace of onions for the superstitious. I didn't know what books or witness accounts they were reading, but onions were only going to make you more appealing. It was the stupidity of those people that made me worry about Casey.

Tears started in my eyes as the cement dust hit my face. I pulled my hood up farther in an attempt to keep anyone from seeing. The last thing I needed was some short-skirted chick following around and laughing at my misfortune. The goal was less attention.

More offers for my body. I heard the whispers as I walked past each worn out, unused terminal: "Fresh meat", "What's up with the marsupial?", "Someone needs their hands held..." This was followed by hollow laughter and my harsh stares in reply. I was at a tipping point and they had no way of knowing the repercussions of my actions.