Phonecalls John did not expect to get today: some weird guy is knocking on doors in District 3 looking for you by name. It was one of those times where he was both really glad that no one knew why that would be an issue and completely infuriated.
The breakdown was this: John's name and address was public record, like all Immune. That someone was looking for him (in the wrong district to boot) without going straight to where he lived meant they were also Immune, probably brand new, didn't know how to access the record on the glasses, maybe never even used the Network at all.
Alternatively - and here's where John's paranoia reared it's ugly head - it was a trap. Plain and simple. For what? He had no idea, considering he was stuck in the future with zombies and a dome between everyone and the sky, weird metal bits in his spine and the possibility for his memory to be completely altered by them.
So. Tracking down some guy who was just knocking on doors at random. Not the easiest task of his afternoon, but he found him eventually. Stood off a ways and raised his voice loud enough to be heard. "Hey. You're looking for Connor?"
no subject
The breakdown was this: John's name and address was public record, like all Immune. That someone was looking for him (in the wrong district to boot) without going straight to where he lived meant they were also Immune, probably brand new, didn't know how to access the record on the glasses, maybe never even used the Network at all.
Alternatively - and here's where John's paranoia reared it's ugly head - it was a trap. Plain and simple. For what? He had no idea, considering he was stuck in the future with zombies and a dome between everyone and the sky, weird metal bits in his spine and the possibility for his memory to be completely altered by them.
So. Tracking down some guy who was just knocking on doors at random. Not the easiest task of his afternoon, but he found him eventually. Stood off a ways and raised his voice loud enough to be heard. "Hey. You're looking for Connor?"