John Mathews had never been this cold. He could hear the rustling of the wind outside of the thin nook in which he hid. Only hours before he had been walking in bright sunshine on a warm spring morning; or rather, he had been running. His pursuers had followed him until the storm started. He had heard the sweeping hum of their robot scanners following his trail for almost two hours after his escape. The storm had come swiftly, overrunning the chasers and destroying their robots. John had been grateful at the time, thinking perhaps his luck had changed.