They were so used to being alone in this empty land that the movement made them jump.

He reached out to push her behind him.

She scowled, a razor sharp disk forming in one hand. "Who's there?"

A man stepped out from the ruined buildings. He was tall and thin, with green scales down the left of his face. They glared at him, wary, waiting.

"Are you looking for the broadcast?"

They followed him to a small, intact building nestled amongst the destruction, where another mutant, an older man with slatted eyes and a forked tongue, was waiting.

"You hungry?"

They exchanged looks.

"Starving," he said.

"We've got stew. It's not much, but it's filling. You two got names?"

They took the bowls of food gratefully and sat down to speak to their two new acquiantances. The scaled one was Matthew, and the forked tongue one Slips. They were part of a group called the Morlocks.

"We've been saying it for years, that mutants need to be separate from humans. Now look what happened."

"But mutants started this," he said.

"And the humans retaliated."

"Because they were attacked!"

Slips hissed. "Whose side are you on boy?"