The first thing I realized was that I was in the wrong place. The second thing was that I was all alone. Either everyone else had been vaporized in some freak accident, or Dr. Krall had made a fatal error - for him, when I got my hands on him - and I had been transported elsewhere.
None of my equipment seemed functional. I poked and prodded my belt and wrist attachment but they were completely dead. In a fit of rage I tore off the belt and jumped up and down on it a few times to relieve my feelings, imagining it was Dr. Krall and his sinister assistant Ms Bell. By now the red mist had lifted enough for me to see where I was, and the sight of it did not cheer me up one little bit.
The landscape was a loner's dream: A featureless plain stretching for miles in every direction. The ground was gritty, brown clayey dirt strewn with small pebbles and stones. Rain dripped down in a steady, insistent sort of way that told me it had settled in nicely and was ready to stick around for the rest of the day. It was also cold, stinging, and tasted slightly of tin. Far off, about two miles distant, was a small hump in the ground, the only relief in the flat dreariness. It wasn't very high, but for a lack of anything else I supposed a local might have called it a mountain.
If there were any locals. By the look of the place they had either fled or become so depressed by the awfulness of their home they had just up and died.
I was just setting off for the mountain, for lack of a better word, when...