The next few hours of scavenging turned up little, but you hoped it would be good enough for now. You found a really good place to set up base- sure, you had to crawl through a doorway almost completely blocked with rubble, and the aperture was only barely large enough for you, but there was no other way to get into the room beyond. There was also piece of rusted sheet metal you could use to cover up the entrance- no one would know it's there!
You also found something that could work like a canteen, but you'd need to find a water source. Considering some of the plant life you've seen past that bridge three floors up from your base, a scouting expedition there could turn up something. Food, you found, was rather lacking. Your growling stomach reminded you that you'd been working for hours. You had found a fair amount of firewood and something that could be used as a knife. You weren't great at fishing, especially without a pole, but you were willing to try. And that's what's important, right?
Right?
Wrong, as it turns out. Yes, you found a river a ways past the bridge, and yes, it had fish, but you'd need a lot more experience fishing before you could get enough in one go. You sighed. This trip did provide enough for now, you suppose. The next problem would be where to place the fire to cook these fish. There wasn't too much ventilation in your room, so it would be imperative to place it somewhere else. It probably wouldn't be too good to put it right outside. Maybe a floor up, where there was a huge hole in the wall? That would probably be good enough.
You finally reached your base, where you dropped the fish and picked up some firewood and tinder before starting the fire. A thought crossed your mind: how long was today, anyway? You remember that you kept glancing up at the sun to gauge your progress during the day, but you hadn't seen it budge an inch up there. The curiosities here seemed to build up when you weren't paying attention.
You had to go to sleep in full daylight, which was quite the experience. Thankfully, 'day' two brought with it the discovery of various pieces of cloth, varying in size. One was large enough to mostly cover up the 'window' in your base, and the other, smaller bits you found afterwards were piled together to make a makeshift bed/ pillow/ blanket. It wasn't much, but it was better than the cold concrete beneath. You also found a real knife to replace that rusty shard of iron you used to gut the fish. As time wore on (as you couldn't really call it days, anymore, could you) you felt more and more comfortable with everything you had to do. It was becoming a routine: after waking up, go out to the river to fish, return to prepare the fish and have some, then go out scavenging.
You were especially thankful for everything the river was bringing you. Even after a good haul from scavenging, another glance at the river turned up at least one or two more items you could find useful, even if it was just another piece of cloth. You noticed a number of strange items in there from time to time. Was someone just throwing machinery into the river? Maybe those parts matched up with some of the robots you'd see out of your window from time to time, but the quantity of parts strewn around was worryingly high, at times. It couldn't have been thrown out because it was past it usefulness. Was there some link to those people who reanimated that metal skeleton a while back?
As time wore on, you couldn't shake a feeling of isolation. Where was everyone else? Did something happen to them? Why were you in some sort of abandoned city with no one else in sight? Why were there robots just meandering around on the long-shattered roads? Just what was going on?
A few days later, you were returning after an average scavenging day. You were starting down the stairs between the first and second floors down from the bridge, about to head toward the fire to get something ready to eat. Some of the more useful objects from river or ruins was usually keeping you occupied so you wouldn't jump at the slightest of sounds. You went down a few steps when you heard something that made you freeze. A voice.
"The machines wouldn't make this." It was a boy, by the sound of it. Not too young; you'd guess mid- to late-teens. There was an unplaceable air about how he spoke. Curiosity dampened artificially. Hadn't you heard his voice before?
"At the very least, it's a sign of recent habitation. We should sweep the area again, make sure that there isn't some machine hiding from us." That was a girl talking. Her voice was flat emotionless, but seemed to have some undercurrent of deep-seated anger. The realization hit you- these two were the ones who (re-)animated that metallic skeleton. The ones who fought floors beneath you.
The ones who wouldn't be afraid to kill.
"I'll make a report to base, and then we'll head out." The boy was inadvertently buying you time. You turned around and tried to, as quietly as possible, hurry yourself up the stairs and set everything you were carrying out of sight. With that done, you bolted up the stairs and over the bridge. You had expected that, if anything were to go wrong, you would be able to hole yourself up in your base and wait for it to blow over. Now where would you turn? You made a mental list of places that were close but well-covered in the abandoned buildings past the river. You had to make a guess, but it was the best you had to work with. You quickly searched the area it should be as you turned a corner. There it was, just past the rusted-out fire escape. You climbed up and squeezed into a space barely wider than you.
Then you waited. It was all you could do in this situation, after all.