The morning had dawned cold and bitter. With a crispness that left no doubt of the coming harsh fall weather. Zach’s breath fogged out and his fingers stung as he crouched, hidden from sight in an alcove of an ally. As Zach waited for the Capital Guard he looked around, the streets of Chapin were bordered by the lowest of the low lives begging for sustenance and shelter. The government had supplied the town of Chapin with housing which were more like shacks than homes, but Red caps had raided the town that had resulted in the west side being burned to ashes. 

This had happened over two months ago, but since then everyone had done nothing to rebuild, except few people. the resources were abundant and the approval from the Zoning Office was so strong that most of the employees there helped with the building of some homes. The only problem that prevented the rebuilding of the burned homes were the people, they lacked the drive and creativeness to rebuild. Zach couldn't blame them, the entire world was on the brink of collapse.

Zach caught movement from the corner to his right and knew exactly what it was, the caravan was right on schedule. Waiting for the right moment Zach spotted his target, a crate of rations in the bed of a truck. As the truck got closer Zach used  the moving shadows for cover as he snuck closer. With his mask and hood covering his face he had no fear of someone recognizing him. He darted out and snatched the  crate from the bed and sprinted for the town square. 

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Screeching to a halt the passenger side door was flung open. The occupant leapt from the vehicle and hit the ground running. The man had on a uniform with the cress of the Capitol Guard on his right sleeve an image of a bloodhound on a field of gray. “Stop!” the Guardsman yelled as he gave chase. He started to close the gap, but Zach had knowledge of the streets that gave him the undeniable advantage. 

It was not long before Zach had shaken his pursuer, not one to take chances Zach waited for an hour on the fifth floor fire escape of an old office building. He was right to do so, because after twenty minutes had passed his presuer stalked into the alley where the fire escape was, hidden from the street below. The Guardsman looked around the trashy alley but only found a raccoon. The vicious pest jumped out at him from the large garbage container when he lifted one of the large plastic lids. The guardsman walked out of the ally cursing. 

Zach smiled and snickered, he had learned at a young age that pursuers rarely looked up, whether it was muggers or other kids with a vendetta to settle. His family was nonexistent so he had to grow up fast. Seventeen years alive and thirteen of them on the streets gave a person certain talents that helped them survive. He now has a home and a job fixing construction equipment.