Rawn wandered along a deserted street, peering into gloomy doorways, his hand never far from his weapon. Deep concern for Rayne gnawed at his mind just as hunger gnawed at his stomach, and he could not decide which was more unpleasant. He had not eaten since that morning, when his food had run out. Rayne was undoubtedly hiding, so finding her would be difficult. He wanted to call her, but drawing attention to himself was folly. He stopped for water at a tap, then walked on until dark, when he found a safe spot to spend the night on the ground floor of a crumbling apartment block. He lighted a fire, using broken furniture, old newspapers and cardboard for fuel.
As night chilled the air, he went to a nearby furniture shop and searched the rubbish for curtains and blankets, coming away with an armload. Returning to his fire, he wrapped himself in them and settled down for the night. Distant shouts and screams echoed along the streets as raiders, rapists and mutants hunted, and occasional crashes punctuated the hush between the cries as victims fled or were caught. The city was even more perilous at night, with so many hunters prowling its streets, and he disliked sleeping in such a dangerous environment. His sleep was always light, so the slightest odd sound would wake him, but still, he disliked closing his eyes even for a moment.