Razor checked the area before dashing across from the exit of the shadowy alleyway to the boarded-up house on the other side of the road. On the inside, there was a simple metal bolt across the front door, but he could not open it so went round looking for other entrances. All the large windows were covered with sheets of corrugated iron, and the back door was boarded up, but he found a small bathroom window about head height that he would be able to squeeze through if he could get high enough.
Razor wasn't his real name, but since the Daleks had conquered Earth, real names had lost their meaning. Everyone was a liar and a cheater nowadays, doing what little they could to survive. They rarely gave their true names, so he had adopted Razor, to inspire fear in others. The Daleks were completely unfazed.
He found a sheet of corrugated iron lying discarded against a fence nearby. As quickly and quietly as he could, he grabbed it and dragged it over to the house. He rested it on a 45 degree angle against the wall, so the top end was just below the window. Then, he removed his pistol, placed the silencer on, and fired one shot straight through the window. The glass shattered and fell inward. If anyone lived inside, which was likely as the barricade was still intact, they would know he was here, but that wouldn't matter.
He took a run up, then powered up the sheet of metal, pushing himself through the window. He gave himself a last push with his feet, then managed to squeeze through, landing on a tiled floor with an undignified crash.
Then, to his horror, he heard a loud scraping, followed by a clang, as the sheet metal slipped and crashed to the ground outside. Any Dalek within half a mile would've heard that. After all the effort he'd gone to to get in, he needed to get straight back outside again.
He opened the bathroom door and walked into the hall, straight into the barrel of a rifle. He raised his pistol, but was too slow.
"Put it down or I'll shoot you dead," the man said menacingly. Reluctantly, Razor did so, allowing the pistol to hit the tiles with a clatter.
"Now then," the man continued, rifle pointed at Razor's chest. "You've just sent every Dalek in the area a big beacon to this house. Now, seeing as this is all your fault, you either die with me, or get me out."
"I could do it better with my gun," Razor replied.
"I'm not stupid. You know as well as I do these guns are useless against the Daleks. Now get me out."
"Front door," Razor replied. "I don't understand why you've hardly bothered to board it up. Suspicious, of you ask me."
"No sort of barricade I can make will keep a Dalek out. Thought there was no point wasting sheet metal and things like that. I could also use it as a quick way out."
"Like you're going to now," Razor insisted.
"Alright. You first."
Keeping the gun pointed at Razor, the man forced him to pull back the bolt and step out. Distant mechanical voices could be heard.
"NOISE ORIGIN PINPOINTED."
"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTEMRINAAATE!"
"Run," Razor whispered. They dashed across the road, Razor guiding the man back into the alleyway system. They could hear Daleks gliding into the area as they left it. The man no longer kept his gun pointed at Razor, instead switching it between Razor and the path behind them, in case a Dalek should find them.
Razor waited until the rifle was pointing away from him, then punched the man on the side of his head. He collapsed to the ground, only stunned, but Razor grabbed his rifle and twisted it from his hands. Instead of shooting the man, he simply ran. A gunshot would only attract the Daleks, and he would have no chance against them.
He ran, and heard an extermination ray behind him. The man he had just left behind screamed in agony, and Razor had no doubt that he was dead.
Razor kept running, without looking back. the Daleks would know where he was, and they wouldn't stop chasing him until he was dead. He had no time to make a stronghold, or even find a way into an already existing one. Daleks were machines; he could outrun them, but not forever. They could hover and fly, so hill or stairs were useless. His rifle wouldn't penetrate a Dalek's forcefield, let alone its armour.
The only advantage he had was a Dalek's size. They were quite large and square, and their design had no flexibility, so small holes and tunnels, even narrow alleyways, could provide escape routes. However, people had tried to hide underground before. The Daleks had simply starved them out, or to death.
He ran down another alley, then slipped into a small, dead-end alley halfway along. It was barely wide enough for him to stand in forward-facing, so he was confident the Dalek couldn't follow. He stepped over a soggy cardboard box, then turned round and crouched behind it, rifle pointed at the tunnel entrance.
"MALE HUMAN DETECTED. EXTERMINATE!"
A Dalek glided into the entrance of the tunnel, but couldn't make it any further.
Deathray blasts illuminated the tunnel, and discarded objects all around the alley burst into flames. Razor took aim with his rfile, firing at the Dalek's eyestalk. The bullets had no effect, and the Dalek continued to blast apart the tunnel. It wouldn't be long before the deathrays found their mark. Razor was beginning to regret picking a dead-end tunnel.
As he continued firing, he was aware he was running out of time and bullets. The last bullet left the barrel of the rifle, impacting against the Dalek's forcefield to no effect. A deathray struck the ground in front of him, exploding in a brilliant white light and sending flaming fragments of cardboard all over the place.
Razor sighed. Game over. He stood up, spreading his arms as wide as he could in a gesture of defiance, and waited for the final deathray. Just as it was fired, another idea occurred to him. He ducked, and grabbed his rifle. He was about to throw it at the Dalek, but a second deathray shattered it in his hands, badly burning them.
Razor backed right up against the back wall of the alley, but it wouldn't buy him much extra time. The Dalek could see him now, so the next shot wouldn't miss. He probed around, looking for something to defend himself with. He didn't find anything, but instead, when his foot probed against the wall, he found there was in fact another narrow alley.
He ducked as a deathray blast shattered the wall behind him, then slipped into the alley. He had to edge along sideways, and it was so narrow he was sure it wasn't even supposed to be there; just a gap in the city plan where nothing fitted. At any rate, the Daleks couldn't follow him or get within firing range of him, so he was safe for now.
However, he knew the Daleks would be performing detailed long-range scans of the city even now, searching for other exits. If he was going to get to one before they did, he had to move now. If not, he would be trapped in and starved to death.
He continued edging along, and the alley suddenly widened out. The walls turned outwards at right angles, until they made a full-size alleyway. He was back in the main system, but this meant the Daleks would be able to get him. He knew they wouldn't give up, and he had to keep moving.
He took as many twists and turns as he could, until he was utterly and completely lost. He doubted that this would have put the Daleks off his trail, as they would perform heat scans of the area and had probably tracked him every step of the way. If he had passed other survivors in hiding, he may have given away their location to the Daleks. He concluded that he didn't have time to worry about those sorts of things, and kept moving.
He was about to step into another alleyway, but glimpsed movement and stepped back immediately. He kept his back to the wall and cautiously advanced, peering very slowly round the corner.
He spotted another Dalek, its dome and weapons section swiveling constantly. But it was like no Dalek he had ever seen. The bronze colouration was the same, but it had a flat dome, and none of the flashing lights. It had no visible eyestalk, nor a plunger arm or traditional deathray. The entire front of the dome/weapons section was taken up by a huge cannon, that looked even more formidable than the regular gunstick, and he had seen the effect they had on people.
The Dalek swiveled to face him, and Razor realised he was more exposed than he had thought he was.
The Special Weapons Dalek fired at Razor, who ducked back behind the wall. A bolt of yellow energy blasted from the cannon, striking the back wall. There was a huge explosion, engulfing the entire area, and Razor was thrown backwards several metres.
When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the wall. The Dalek took aim again, and Razor only just escaped being caught by the full blast. He was thrown backwards against a solid concrete wall which was promptly destroyed by energy from the blast.
Razor was now weak and unable to stand. He had known the Daleks were powerful but this was off the scale. He had no chance of survival, and no secret alley could save him. Even if he had the strength to make it into one, the Dalek would just blast it wide open.
Not only that, but the huge energy blasts would bring other Daleks too. If he couldn't stop one in a narrow alley, he had no chance against several in the open. Desperate, he retrieved his second pistol from securely in his pocket, and fired at the Dalek. The shots rang out loud and clear in the dying hours of day, but the Dalek was unaffected.
The next blast struck him almost full on, annihilating the area around him, throwing him backwards and pounding him into the ground. Rubble and shrapnel fell from above, cutting and bruising him, and pinning him to the ground. He found it a miracle he could still breathe.
He soon heard the sound of other Daleks gliding into the area, and he lay down, closed his eyes and prepared to die, only vaguely aware of what they were saying.
"DALEKS REIGN SUPREME. ALL HAIL THE DALEKS!"
"SPECIAL WEAPONS DALEK WILL MOVE OUT."
Razor waited several minutes, then let out a ragged sigh of relief, which quickly became a spluttering cough. They had mistaken him for dead. That might even get them permanently off his tail. However, when he tried to move, he found he couldn't. He had little energy left, and the weight of rubble pinning him down was too great for him to lift.
Trying not to despair, he decided just to rest. He could get his strength back, and hopefully any Daleks that passed through would also mistake him for dead.
His body, completely worn out, made the decision for him. He closed his eyes and slept.
Razor was rather surprised when he woke up, mainly because he could wake up. He was still alive, and he felt renewed, as if the rest really had helped get his strenght back. He tried to lift himself up, and the rubble shifted, pouring off on either side as a mini-avalanche.
He tried to get up, then discovered he couldn't. He tried to move his legs, but was completely unable to. They were both still attached to his body, but the Special Weapons blast had clearly paralysed them. Not for the first time in the past day, he felt despair creep through his veins. If the effect was permanent, he would starve or dehydrate. If not, he might stand a chance, but he highly doubted it.
It was getting dark around him. The sun was already sinking behind the buildings, which meant it was quite late, as most tall buildings had been reduced to ruins by the Dalek fleet. He supposed dark would make good cover, but he suspected Daleks could use night vision or heat scans to navigate anyway, which would put him at a disadvantage instead. He was also a bit frightened to out in the open in a post-apocalyptic world. It reminded him too much of the zombie movies he had seen.
He tried feebly to drag himself along by his arms, but found he couldn't. He made it a few metres, but nowhere covered, and his arms were starting to burn from the effort. He supposed that the special weapons blast had got him after all.
As much as he hated to give up, he knew there was no choice. He lay down, and slept again.
Five days later, he was still lying paralysed, and his throat was completely dry. Over the days, he had managed to drag himself into a small alley between two houses, where he rested now. His legs were still paralysed, and he suspected the ffect was permanent. Even if it wasn't, it was too late for him. By tomorrow, he was pretty sure he'd have died from lack of fluids.
A few days later, a bronze Dalek glided through the wrecked area. From the shared database, it recognised the place and what had happened. It rotated its dome, examining the area, and spotted a body lying in an alleyway between two houses. It performed a brief scan, and concluded it had partially paralysed by a special weapons blast. Defenceless, it had died soon after of dehydration.