In the brief moments of peace I glanced over at the bar. The machines were serving drinks in seconds, the convenience making ordering more drinks more tempting. However, I wasn’t the masses of people chanting at the bar, downing various drinks that the universe had to offer.

I held the edge of the shielding and started to shake it. Within moments I could feel the cheap bolts wiggling loose.

“Do you really have to do that, cadet?” my captain asked me.

“Sir, these things couldn’t take a light kick from my gran,” I told him. “What are we supposed to do against the possessed?”

Clint stared at the small handgun that sat on the table. It was old, defective and more useful as a paperweight. After the resistance fell, Clint could relate a lot to that simple handgun. Feeling underappreciated wasn’t anything, but feeling useless was a pain that never lost its sting.

The Rat wasn’t easy to find, not in this city. He would used the underground to move around and if the law happened to take the search below he would take to the roofs. There was always a way for the Rat to escape, especially when he felt the ship beginning to sink. ‘Sinking ship’ was a great way to sum up London in this age, but with the help of people like the Rat, it felt a lot easier.