Urban Decay

[Omi]

Lukas was less than elated. Lying face-up on top of a heavy rucksack after falling out of a gunship will do that to a person. He was thankful that they hadn't been flying very high, but he still felt like his stomach had negotiated a positional swap with one of his lungs. Gingerly, he disentangled himself from his rucksack and got to his feet, looking around him as the sounds of gunfire echoed all about.
Well, it was pretty much as he'd expected. Everything was in a different shade of brown; the buildings off in the distance, the grass, the ground. Even the sky was tinged a dusty sort of colour. The only thing in coloured differently was the gunmetal grey gunship he'd been dropped from, which was currently on fire and speeding away. He shrugged. It was already too far away for him to help, and if it crashed they'd probably all be left here to turn into so much radioactive sludge. Not the best of starts, he thought.

He lifted his pack and began to trudge onwards, making sure to keep one hand down by the butt of his Luger. The atmosphere was heavy and tense. Twice, he thought he'd seen something move, but nothing further came of it. He forged onwards, determined to find some sort of shelter before it got dark. Eventually, he found a small wooden shack seemingly in the middle of nowhere, as the sun was beginning its slow descent. Funny, that. He'd never seen a brown sunset before.
Carefully, he nudged the door open, Luger held at the ready. Although the light was dim, it looked empty to him, apart from a large black boulder sitting in one corner. He entered and closed the door, bracing his pack against it to provide a modicum of security and to alert him if anyone pushed it open. He flopped down beside the boulder, tired, and grateful for the warmth it provided.
Wait, warmth?
The boulder moved.

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