Part 1: Tracker info

I am a Manhunter. It's been two long, tedious years since the invasion. They came suddenly, like a thief in the night...it was all over by dawn's first light. I have no idea how the rest of the world is doing...outside communication has been suffocated.

All of us are required to wear the designated uniform, brown robes, and we must keep our faces hidden as much as possible. Above all else, we are not allowed to speak to each other. To do so would mean certain death.

Most have given up, for fear of the aliens with their powerful technology and deadly robots.

New York has been devastated. The invasion has taken its toll on the city, damaging many structures. Living conditions have steadily eroded. Vandalism has skyrocketed, and there is no longer any maintenance of the city or its streets. Most businesses have shut down; only a handful of small shops remain. The larger buildings in town have been boarded up or taken over by the Orbs. There are restrictions to traveling through the city, and most humans are not allowed out of their confined designated areas.

The Orbs have been working furiously since their arrival. It is like they are on a special mission of some sort. I have noticed significant changes in the atmosphere since their arrival. Strange, rotting odors permeate the air and an increasingly red tint has overtaken the skyline. The behavior of fellow humans has grown increasingly peculiar. It's all a mystery to me.

There are fewer people on the streets. All of my friends have disappeared, vanished into thin air. I have looked for them where I could...I mean, it's not like they had anywhere to go.

There are rumors floating on the street of a secret society, humans who have banded together to drive the Orbs from New York. I have heard they thrive underground, where the tracking disks cannot read their signal.

The tracking disks were surgically implanted in the backs of our necks. It is now common knowledge that they Orbs have had trouble with these disks. Apparently the disks can only transmit the location, but not the identity of the user as expected. Thus, the need for Manhunters.





















I've seen and done a lot of weird things in these last two years, but I never suspected that I'd be working for the Orbs. I track down suspects, confirm their identity and hand them over to the Orbs. It's not a glamorous job, and we Manhunters are looked down upon by other humans. If they were allowed to speak they'd no doubt call me all kind of names. Benedict, Quisling, collaborator, traitor. But hey, the Orbs compensate me well for my service, and who knows - maybe someday I'll discover something about the Orbs that will help us defeat them, and drive them off our world.



However, right now I have a job to do.







My laptop, called MAD, can access the tracking signal that all humans emit. I'll need to access the tracking log for the past 24 hours and see where the suspect has been, follow their footsteps and gather clues as to their identity.



The suspect is that yellow...square thing...in the top left.



The suspect pauses at this wall for a few seconds...



...and runs away.



Hmm, looks like this person set a bomb to blast open this wall.



They stand over this gurney for a moment...



...before leaving. Odd.

The suspect then travels to the following locations:



Trinity Church.



Flatbush Bar.



And Prospect Park.



That's strange...tracking signals are only lost once the suspect stops moving, dies or heads deep underground. Oh, I hope I don't find a corpse in that stall. I don't want to experience that smell.



And so begins another day. Time to head out into the city. First stop, Bellevue Hospital.