Leeam's eyes opened slowly to the sound of a familiar voice nearby. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and licked the dried saliva from around his lips, trying his best to remind himself of his consciousness - so far his efforts were futile; and he was still very much involved in the dreamworld, plagued by visions of life, blossom, and prosperity.

For a good few moments Lutwig may aswell have been talking to a brick wall, as no response was to be had from Leeam other than a faint mumble and an occasional shift of posture on his sleeping mat. The troubled man, irritated faintly by the spikiness of his short beard on his hand, longed to plunge himself back into the realm of unconscious sleep. [i]Just an hour more, please,[/i] he begged in silence.

The warning whistle, however, dragged him out of comfort and into a state of controlled, rehearsed panic and fear. He jolted himself into a sitting position as if being propelled by an invisible force and quickly rest his eyes on Lutwig, who stood cautiously by the window. "What is it?" he asked, all memories of his pastoral sleep gone in a flash. Without waiting for an answer he joined Lutwig, his eyes creeping over the windowsill.

The two souls that Leeam found himself looking at were so apparent that it shocked him. There they stood, a couple of drowned rats as desperate as Lutwig and he. For a brief moment he felt a wave of pity wash over him, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Stay quiet," he warned, "and keep an eye on them. If they want to get to us they're going to have to swim." With that, he turned away and swiftly packed away his things, preparing himself for another day of travel. He had suspected that they would come across other survivors here, somewhere that used to be so dense with life, and worried little for the danger that may be so imminent.

No longer than a couple of minutes had passed when he put the final of his belongings in his bag. He strapped the roll-matt on tightly and buckled the opening of the pack together, swinging a strap over his shoulder as he returned to the window. The two survivors across the flooded road were still very much in view, rummaging through kitchen drawers and cabinets.

"They look lost - desperate," he said. "Have they any weapons?"