Vincent had killed thousands of men in his long life. This next one would be no different.
The night had brought peace to the wasteland, disturbed only by the clumsy movements of his prey. Vincent kept his eyes on his target as he followed him, his own steps deathly silent on old concrete. Ahead, a man with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a flashlight clutched in his shaking hand was heading towards a building long forgotten by the new world. Its crumbling walls promised ancient scrap and with it, potential reward.
This man that wandered alone through the wastes, however, would find nothing but death inside.