Snake wandered out on to the streets early in search of food. It was late enough that the crazies had settled in for the day. Their eyes were too sensitive for this light. Plissken knew that because his own eye had suffered similar damage. It was too early for most people to stir for fear of lingering cannibals. Snake hesitatingly glanced back at Brazen who still lay sleeping on the floor. She would be alright. Snake had learned on the trip between LA and here that despite youth, compared to his age anyway, she had many of the things remaining from her training that had kept Snake alive over the years. Most important waking like an angry wild cat.
Snake rubbed the scratch on his neck where she had clawed him when he woke her. It still stung to the touch but Snake shrugged it off as he closed the door. The streets were deserted as far as the eye could see but he didn't trust it. Snake never trusted silence. Snake felt his stomach rumble so loud he swore others had to hear it. They were two days out of LA and he hadn't eaten since a day earlier. Starvation wasn't his idea of dying.
There wasn't much but at this moment even the rats scurrying through the rubble looked appetizing. Snake hobbled a few steps before he forced his body to use the wounded leg. A cough followed but he stifled it with his hand. The Plutoxin virus could go to hell with his wound. He needed food. Straightening his stance he walked down the street trying to hide the limp, the weakness that might leave others to think he could be a victim.
Snake stopped once more surveying the streets when a tight lipped scowl formed on his lips. Hobbling through the rubble he stood next to it and stared with the longing of a man looking on his lover. Food was forgotten as he looked over the Harley sitting on the side of the road. His fingers ran over the leather seat before he straddled it.
The bike sat perfectly beckoning him to feel the freedom of riding down the street. To him it was a call like he heard from the sky. It beckoned Plissken to fly and be set free of the earth and all its turmoil. His hand grasped the throttle and twisted with a flick of the wrist. His other hand went for the key in the ignition on instinct. He wanted to hear that rumbling purr of a bike and feel the wind burn his cheeks as he drove too fast.
Plissken glared at the key knowing it wouldn't start. The battery was shot and it was his fault. Snake's hands slipped away settling on his thighs. Snake hadn't thought about this when he pressed that death button back in LA. Plissken was instantly disgusted with himself despite the knowledge that no matter what he would have pushed that button.
"Sorry baby." He whispered to it absently as he got off careful of his bad leg. The coughing started again as he contemplated the battery case on the side beneath the seat. The grumbling in his stomach returned and he frowned. All he needed was some strong acid and she might run again. The thought played in his mind as he headed down the road to continue his search. He'd give anything to have a bike again and the thought of having one when no one else had a vehicle made it that much more enticing.
Snake glanced back at the bike with a smile. Food first then maybe Brazen could point him in the direction of one of the USPF chemical distilleries, a little jury-rigging and he'd be up and running again on the sweetest bike he could get his hands on.