FutureStory

The next evening, around four thirty in the afternoon, Tom left the apartment building with a single rotting backpack containing all of his worldly possessions, including Rodney the rat. He walked through the city, gazing at the crumbling buildings, all that remained of one of the greatest cities in the USA. For the next half hour, he walked through Chicago, slowly making his way to the edge of the city. As he neared the end of his little jaunt, he heard a clanking. He twisted to look behind him and, there, appearing from around a corner was a humanoid figure. From the waist up, it was a humanoid robot, albeit with four arms, two of which had large blades coming out from their wrists, and a rocket launcher on its shoulder. But from the waist down, it was a tank, without the turret and cannon. Tom screamed, and the robot turned in his direction. “You are not authorized to be in this area.” The robot said in a flat tone. “I will escort you to the city center and wait there for further or-or-or-orders” as it said that final word sparks flew from its metal head. Tom picked up his backpack and ran in the opposite direction from the robot. As he ran, a white and gold airplane with a red cross on its side landed on the uneven ground, about a half-mile away. Tom adjusted his course so he was heading directly at the plane. He turned to look behind him, and found him facing the robot, because it was barely a foot behind him!