[h1][color=olive]Bozak[/color][/h1]
[hr]
[i]“You ask Bozak why he walks? Well, why does anyone walk? Standing and sitting are boring. Walking takes you places. Good and bad places, but, still places. Is better life than settlers. Is best life for Bozak.”[/i]
[center][h1]…[/h1][/center]
Bozak descended the stairs leading into a subway station, keen on checking out the immediate interior. More often than not, these types of city constructs were used for shelter purposes. Metros and transits across the nation were prime locations to settle within. Safe from outside elements, easily defendable, hidden away, all the like. But for many, the tunnels of the underground were too unsettling to reside within. And almost every city Bozak had been to so far, there was always [i]something[/i] lurking in the darkness amidst the rails.

He paced along the concrete walkway, noting the scattered papers and luggage. He checked a few, but he didn’t find much other than spare clothes and impractical baubles. Cell phones have no place in this day and age. He checked the bathrooms and the offices – more useless crap, and the first aid kits had been picked clean. Oh, well.

The subway tunnel. Bozak took a peak down both ways, seeing no indication of a hostile presence or any settlers. He considered wandering down one of them but, that never turned up anything useful. When there’s lights in the distance, you know there’s folks ahead. They always built their hovels in the slightest view of the exit so they wouldn’t get lost, and so that escaping was easy, if escape were necessary. No lights mean either nothing was down there, or whoever [i]were[/i] down there wished to remain [i]especially[/i] hidden. And Bozak wasn’t up for disturbing anyone in the unfamiliar darkness at the moment. New city, new lessons.

He emerged from the station, out into an open area a little deeper into the city. Buildings reaching upward, cars strewn about. Mixtures of grays and browns and faint greens. Something pretty in all of it, when you stop and look.

But stop for too long and it all disappears.

Bozak kept moving, shotgun drawn, weaving through the cars, looking for more and more things to pilfer amidst the ruins.