There it was: a rogue smartcar. No mirage–this was the real thing. Dotted with bullet holes, the dusty and dented autonomous Tesla roamed the desert in search of a GPS signal. But the satellites were long dead; space junk littering orbit.
Rek the mechanoid took aim at the tires. Fuel cells had become as rare as water in the Wasteland–energy in a parched land for mechanoids like Rek. Rek and his robodoxie had to survive, and if hunting smartcars brought ‘em fuel cells, then it was survival of the fastest.
And no car, no matter how intelligent, could outrun a hail of self-guided .50-caliber smart bullets.