The Sun Awaits [Short Story]

Chapter 9: Starvation Struggles

            I wake up to Scratch pawing at my drawstring bag. I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes and swing the bag onto my lap. I dig through it and feel nothing other than, a small gun, my grappling hook, my medical stuff, my 9% phone, and the Blueprint Notes to The Box. I feel for what seems like hours until I realize I'm out of food.

"Scratch, we're out of food, let's go scavenge for an apartment or something." I stand up and walk to the roof of the building, Scratch behind me. I feel like today is going to be a loooong day.

~

I walk along another building, its windows tinted dark blue. The walls are a ruined steel, coated in a thick layer of dust; just like every other building in this place. I hook my grappling hook to a ledge, make sure it's secure and use it as a rope to climb down into the building below. The window is smashed and old shards of glass are shattered into the room. The room has an eerie feel, but what else is new?

It looks like this was an old office building, so really nothing good here. I climb back up the hook's rope, make sure it's back in place where it'll be ready to shoot it again, and shove it into my bag. Scratch and I keep walking; my stomach growls every step I take. I might starve soon, but that's something I don't want to think about.

I enter another building, this one's walls covered in old, bubbly, peeling orange paint. It smells like old milk and rot. It stinks, but it gives some hope knowing that there might be some food here, even if it's just granola bars or something.

I walk further in, but nothing seems to be revealing itself to me. The smell of rot is still strong and horrifying.

"Scratch, any idea?" I ask the pup, who's slumping behind me. I bet he's hungry too. I hope that werewolves like rotten meat; because granola bars wouldn't seem to appealing to me if I was one.

Scratch nods un-approvingly, and slouches in front of me, leading us through crazy corridors and hallways till he'll reach his destination for us. My head spins again and a wave of nausea washes over me; making me clutch my empty stomach. Scratch gives me a look of worry.

"I'm fine, just hungry." I say, taking my hands away from the pit of emptiness; also known as my stomach; and keep following him.

AllI can think of is; if I starve to death... what will happen? Will Scratch live?Or die? Will he eventually find food for himself? I let go of the thought andrecite on my dream: The Sun Awaits.