"Mandy," I grunt under my breath. She stirs, barely, turns terrified eyes towards me. She's in no state to run.
"I'll come for you, girl. Hear me? I'll come for you."
"Hands flat on the ground, DON'T MOVE!" The Enforcers are moving in at a jog. I glance to my left--there's something there, some hulking peice of decades-old enforcer bot. It's gone to rust, but it's titanium plates are still in place, too tough for scavergers to tear off...
I go for it, rolling to my feet and hurling myself behind its bulk, clutching my gun as I go. I hear them yelling on the other side and assault rifles spit bullets into the night, ricocheting off the titanium with the sharp sound of chimes in the wind. I thrust my arms over the top of the titanium shell and return fire; they drop and roll for cover across the lot. Here's my chance. I sprint around the side of the store, three-inch titanium shells ripping it to splinters behind me. I hurl myself over the fence and crash down into slime and broken concrete. Behind me I hear shouted orders and booted feet, but I'm into the low district now--alleys, slums, gangs spreading like cancer. It's all coming back. I keep my head about me, I might just survive, but I need a place to lay low... a place where people will turn a blind eye...
I know just the place.
Damn, but in a way, I'm liking this.
Head to the bar.