This part of the Redmond Barrens is exactly the image people think of when the wasteland is mentioned in casual conversation. The few folks you see on the streets have the desperate and hungry look to them that marks both predator and prey. There are forms shambling about that make easy identification of even general metahumanity unlikely. In the early light of the new day, everything seems washed of any color or vitality.
O'Connor knows these streets well, and he knows the way to travel them. Head on swivel, but never meeting the eyes of anyone unless it is to challenge, voice low, almost subvocal, weapon in plain sight. He is a product of this environment, he would even be the pride of these streets if they gave the product of a devil rat's hindquarters.
He reaches the building that Darrel lives in, and just before he uncovers the secreted touchpad at the back door, he checks his surrounding one final time. Clem sees him visibly stiffen, but misses the thing that catches his eye- the icy blue images of clenched hands on the jackets of three men stumbling away from them, several blocks away.
