KimRae clung to the shadows as she moved up Fifth Avenue. She was careful to avoid the alley where she had seen ghouls eating a dead body. She knew she was no match for any of the ghouls. Just thinking of them made her wary. Something was up today. She could feel it in her bones, an intuition that had served her well.<br/><br/>As she slipped around the corner to 86th and ignored the crumbling mansions that were overgrown with vines, she noticed fresh markings. The houses were tagged with various ownership affiliations but none that KimRae cared to become more familiar with. The tags indicated that someone used the places from time to time and who it was, not as a welcome mat but as a warning to stay away. They didn’t need to worry about KimRae invading their space.<br/><br/>Tapping the pocket low on her thigh, KimRae prepared to cross the street, the worst time of exposure, in effort to return to her camp in Central Park. There were many shadows in the park and Brothers of Steel who patrolled there, so she felt as measure of safety there. Taking a deep breath and looking in all directions, all she could see was an armoured vehicle rumbling up from the south in the far distance. She ran full tilt across the empty intersection.<br/><br/>When the first spat of angry gunfire erupted at her feet, KimRae cursed to herself, glad that she no longer had the responsibility of any of the Abandoned. She had lost one of the twins in a situation just like this and sleep had not been her ally for many years after that. Having no one but herself to care for had made her complaisant. Not looking up, she ran a zig zag pattern across the street where once again shadows concealed her.<br/><br/>“Keep running. Run until you are worn down. I will make you submit or you will die like the rest.” Came the mocking voice, high up on her right side.<br/><br/>She didn’t respond. There was no need. This was an old fight and one that  would have to end in death. She didn’t plan on it being hers. She fingered the knives at her waist, touched the knives sheathed on her wrists and felt reassured at the knives nestled in the tops of her boots. KimRae was not one who enjoyed killing. Even the throwing knives in their leather pouch in her pocket, which were hard won spoils of battle, didn’t bring her pleasure in knowing of her ability to defend herself in self- defense. But learn to defend herself and the Abandoned, she did. All the knives were taken from the bodies of those who had under estimated her, with the exception of the first blade. That person had died of poison, a gruesome agonizing death.<br/><br/>Once in Central Park, still clinging to the shadows, she made her way to her small cold camp, not far from the station of the Brothers of Steel. Through the bushes she could see the sun glinting from their metal armor and hear the clinking of their boots on the street. All was peaceful here. No mutants, no ghouls and no one trying to disturb life. With a sigh, she settled back to eat the cheese and bread she had scavenged from a dumpster. As luck would have it, she had also found about a quarter of a bottle of water, which was all anyone could safely drink. So for now, she had all her basic needs met. Food, water, shelter and safety but now was when the longing for someone besides herself for company came flooding back.<br/><br/>Life was simpler without the Abandoned to care for. The Abandoned was what they called themselves. The children, orphaned, abandoned by family unable or unwilling to care for them, abandoned by a society that was struggling to survive, must less care about nurturing children. But now, as she lay down on the bed of rags under the low growing bushes, Kimberly Raelean Dobbs wished she was not so alone.