Chapter 3: The Dead Wind City

So, switching over POVs from the last chapter. I wonder who it could be... haha guess you'll have to read to find out! Enjoy! Also shorter! Figured it be a better idea.

Chapter 3: The Dead Wind City

            She was sitting at the end of the Boardwalk and looking behind her at the cloud covered city of Chicago, the normal routine. Every day it was an eerie feeling as she just looked on at the ravaged city, striped of everything. Resources, food, even people. Not a living soul could be found in the apocalyptically torn buildings. For all she knew, she was the only one alive in the entire area surrounding Chicago. Yet she stayed, not knowing exactly why she wanted to stay. An answer immediately popped into her head, but she shoved it away as soon as it came to her.

            All she was doing near Lake Michigan was waiting, every day until midday. She waited to see if anyone would see the messages she had written around the city. All of them said the same thing, “Come to the Boardwalk at midday, I’ll be waiting.” Many of the signs were small, only pieces of paper that were on buildings. Others were written over bill boards, used to advertise something different now. The only thing Lyra wanted to have was someone else to survive this apocalypse with, not caring who it was, as long as that person could survive. It was a hard and lonely existence Lyra lived, but she did so by her own free will.

            When the apocalypse began, everyone close to her was killed, by human and lurker alike. Her family fell within the first few days, her closest friends fell within a few weeks after that. She felt so much heartbreak from losing those she loved, that she shut herself off from almost everyone who tried to befriend her since then. Lyra couldn’t lose anyone else close to her. She was even responsible for being stuck in the hostile ruins of Chicago alone.

           

            A group of scavengers found her one day while Lyra was scavenging around the city. It was headed by a man named Rich. They were going to leave the city, suspecting it would be safer away from Chicago.

            “It seems like you can carry your own weight” he pointed out after she snuck up behind and held him at gun point. “You could probably even get in and out of places that are more difficult for some of us to get into.”

            Lyra began to lower her gun, thinking that she could have a chance to leave all the heartbreak and fear behind. She fought with herself for a minute, not knowing what to do. Then, she came to a decision.

            “Thanks for the offer, but I just can’t” she answered very hesitantly.

            “Are you crazy? This city is a complete wasteland and you choose to stay here?” he yelled at her at this point.

            “I… I can’t explain it. I just need to…”

            He softened his composure after she spoke, “Well, you’re still crazy, but I understand. I respect your decision and wish the best of luck to you. Now if you could just um… Finish lowering your gun?”

            The pistol she had was still pointed at him. She quickly lowered it and let the man go, saying good-bye and wishing him the best. Something made her stay, and she knew what it was, but she rarely let herself give the obvious answer.

 

            “You promised… So where are you?” she said to no one in particular.

            Looking up into the sky, she wished she was with Dallas right now. He promised he would find her, no matter what and he never broke his promises. She wanted to know if he was okay, though she had a feeling that he was. However, she had very little hope that her feeling was correct. Even though waiting for Dallas was a big reason, there were others too.

She felt attached to Chicago, like she couldn’t leave it. It was where she grew up. Lyra would only leave if the reason was great enough in her mind. Leaving because of some stranger’s hunch wasn’t exactly a good enough reason to her, even though it was a good idea. Continuing to look up at the sky, she saw that the sun was approaching midday. So she decided to leave, calling it quits a little early today.

            ‘No one ever comes anyways.’

            She shoved Dallas out of her mind, reminding herself that they would never be together again, but hope kept appearing in her mind as it always did. To get her mind off of him, she decided to check the traps she laid out around Grant Park. Squirrels were almost always on the menu, but sometimes there were rabbits or foxes, driven to the city by hunger and desperation. Most times, however, there was no catch whatsoever, sometimes eaten by lurkers and at other times just nothing in the trap. You could tell when a lurker took your catch as blood was always splashed around, and the head was torn off from being yanked out of the trap.

            As she approached the park, Lyra saw most of her traps had no yield. One, however, did have a rather large catch. It wasn’t the usual squirrel of course, but it wasn’t a fox or rabbit either. She came closer to the lump of dead flesh to see that it was a fawn. Actual meat, and she could almost taste it until she saw its stomach area.

Its guts were torn out everywhere; its stomach next to a tree, intestines on its legs, blood staining the green grass and its bones broken apart. The rotten smell almost made her throw up her own guts. Lyra was hoping it would be just a wolf attack, but she knew better, she saw the claw marks on the fawn’s hide. Lurkers got to it before she could.

            “GOD D****T!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Can I not just a get a break for once! Look at where I am, what I’m doing! I have no one! So why can’t I be thrown a bone for one, damn time!”

            She collapsed in exhaustion and frustration.

            “Why can’t anything just go right…? For once, that’s all I ask.” She pleaded to the empty sky above her.

            The answer was clear, it always is in this world. Nothing goes right for anyone, you can only rely on your skills and luck. If those couldn’t get you past the trials of every day, then you had a horrible skill set for the apocalypse or s****y luck. Lyra knew that things would go her way sometime, but then they would go the opposite way other times. It was just how this world worked.

            She stood up and finished looking at the rest of the traps, still frustrated by the current situation that fate dealt her. There were a few squirrels that would cook nicely and weren’t poisoned with the lurker toxin, so she took them. It would only last her at most three days though, so she had to find some more food. No other traps were placed around the city, so the only thing she could do was comb the ruins of Chicago, again. First, she would have to drop off the squirrels and pick up a few things, so she went to her hideout near the boardwalk.

            It was only a few minutes away from the Boardwalk, not exactly well-hidden either. The reason? Lyra’s hideout was a small yacht she found a few days after she lost her family and friends. She thought lurkers might not be able to swim. Through sheer luck, she was right; lurkers detested the water. Nothing on the outside of the small vessel gave it away either, it looked like any other abandoned ship on the coast of Lake Michigan.

            The ship itself had one sail and had to be used manually, but it served its purpose. It was roughly 29 feet long, plenty of room and space for Lyra to live in. Savior, as she called it, had been just that for her, saving her life more than once. During the day she’d sail into a quaint dock that looked abandoned next to the city, and go about her daily life. At night, she would sail out to the middle of the massive lake, away from all threatening dangers.

            With the way the world was, this gave Lyra a distinct advantage over many less fortunate survivors. Having the ability to live on a plain where the lurkers couldn’t get you made her superior to others. She even liked to think she was now part of the upper class in the new, ruined world. Clearly, none of that really amounts to anything now.

            Once Lyra got to the boat, she quickly unloaded the squirrels she found into the open hatch leading to the rear end of the hull. Most of her supplies were stored down there, besides her weapons. Those were stored in the front end of the hull, along with the “captain’s” quarters (she loved nautical terms in that sense). She entered in and put on the few pieces of protective gear she had, which were a police RIOT vest, shin guards and padded gloves. Then she went to her small armory and picked up one of her pistols, along with three spare clips. Lyra then proceeded to fill her pack with food and water, taking everything else out, excluding her knife, and throwing it on the small cot she slept on across from her.

            After finding all she needed, she went to the dock and took the rope of the ship off of it. Nothing was connecting her to dry land, she only had the lake to see now. She diverted the ship’s sail astern (towards the south in laymen’s terms), knowing this would be faster than walking to get to her desired destination. The area she was sailing towards was barely picked by scavengers, so she visited their frequently, finding several goods, luxury and necessary.

As she was just sailing away from the dock, she heard an all too familiar voice behind her. “So, making another run, are we?”

Author's Note

Critique anything and everything! Also, let me know if the chapter is too short and if I need to make them longer again, I'd love input on that! Thanks y'all!