The Lost City

A Warm Awakening

21-year-old Elanor Pheonix woke up with a start. Taking a few deep breaths, she worked to calm herself down. Groggily, the young woman looked around at her surroundings, recalling where she was. A dilapidated old bus on the interstate housed her, the morning sun shining through the broken windows to wake her up. She grumbled to herself about it, the midwest sun already hot in the morning. She hated summers.

Wrapping her hand around her pistol, a trusty custom Glock 17 with an affixed laser sight, Elanor sat up. She peered all around outside, looking through the windows. Seeing that she was alone, she set the gun down.

From within her bag, Elanor pulled a bottle of whiskey. Taking off her rebreather, she unscrewed the cap and took a swig of her liquid courage. It burned her throat, giving her the wake-up call she needed. She sighed as she held the bottle in her hand and stared at it for almost a minute.

"You'll be the death of me yet, Jack," she commented to no one but herself. Letting out another sigh, she screwed the cap back onto the bottle and hid it away in her bag again. She stood up and stretched herself out, feeling the blood pump through her muscles to wake her body up before re-equipping her rebreather.

Elanor sat down to put her armor on. Sliding her knee pads on, then her combat apron, then her elbow pads, and finally, her wrist PDA, the woman began to feel more and more safe. She swung her bag over her shoulders and holstered her pistol before grabbing her primary weapon- a scoped Scar-H with an attached laser and flashlight. Holding it in an at-ease position, Elanor stepped out of the pre-war vehicle she had been using for shelter.

The woman fiddled with the device on her arm for a bit until a radio came crackling to life. The noise emanated from the thing on her arm, adding some noise other than the warm summer wind blowing by. Content with her new background noise, she began to walk down the road.

"-saying that a mutant encampment has been spotted near Wichita. It's highly advised that everyone stay away from the city for the time being. Once again, the FBC has issued a report saying that there is a mutant encampment near Wichita. Stay safe out there, folks. Now, let's warm the morning up a bit more with some relaxing music. This is Route Around, made by Rebulation before the world, you know, died out," a smooth voice crackled through the radio.

Elanor smirked to herself. The FBC is either lying or stupid. If there were mutants in Wichita, I would've seen them , she thought. She shared a bitter laugh with herself as she walked, the sweltering heat beating down on her much the same as it had all those years ago.

A busted sign on the side of the road told Elanor that she should check her map, an idea that she took to heart. Still walking, she slung her Scar over her shoulder and produced a map and marker from her bag. Using the marker to draw how far along she was, Elanor figured she had just crossed the Kansas-Oklahoma border, and that she was roughly halfway to Perry. From there, she knew she needed to head south, still, to Oklahoma City, then west to Amarillo, Texas, and finally, south from there to Lubbock.

Lubbock, Texas would be Elanor's final destination, as evidenced by a circle around it on her map. She'd need to stop and scavenge in Perry, which was reportedly abandoned, stock up in Oklahoma City, stop and rest in Amarillo, and finally be on her way. If she were lucky, she could find a still-working vehicle and cut down her trip's time by a lot, but she didn't ever really consider herself lucky.

As she walked, she heard a noise above the radio. A soft humming from behind her growing closer and closer. She looked up, using her map to block the sun from her eyes, and saw an old fighter jet passing overhead.

"Be so much easier if I had one of those," Elanor sighed. She placed the map and marker back in her bag and unslung her rifle again.

It had been hours of walking, yet Elanor felt like she was still no closer to Perry. She stopped around what she guessed was noon to fill up with a stick of beef jerky and a bottle of Atom Kick, a stop that lasted maybe 15 minutes, but after that, she was back on the road.

As she walked, thinking of her frustration, something caught her attention. She switched her radio off and took cover behind one of the many old cars scattered across the old highway. As she listened, she could make out three voices.

"Just shoot the damn thing," the first voice spoke. It was deep, gruff, and masculine, no doubt a threat if an enemy.

"But... it's a dog," the second spoke. This one, while still male, was much higher and younger sounding.

"So what? The owner's dead, not like he can get revenge on you for it," the third voice spoke. Elanor recognized that this one was female.

Elanor knew she needed to play this smart. If these were hostile people, she couldn't just walk up and introduce herself like they were old friends. If they weren't she didn't want to shoot them and kill innocent people.

She took a look at her surroundings. Scattered along the ground of the old, dusty interstate were chunks of concrete that had broken up due to years of heat exposure and neglect. Elanor picked up a small piece as she looked above the car's hood. She spotted another car a bit farther down that would be perfect. Mustering as much strength as she could, Elanor chucked the old piece of concrete at the car before quickly ducking back down. A loud thud was heard at the same time.

"What was that?" the second voice practically screamed.

"Must've been another person," the third replied.

Unsurprisingly, it was the first voice that took charge. "Fan out and find whoever made that noise. When you do, kill 'em!"

So, they're hostile , Elanor decided. Quietly, she flicked her rifle's safety off and began to move closer to the group, still crouching. Taking cover behind cars, she was eventually able to circle around them. Wasting no time, Elanor burst a few bullets into each of their skulls, dropping the trio with satisfying splat s.

Now alone, or so she thought, Elanor stood up and slung her rifle over her back. Stepping out to where they were, Elanor noted another dead body on the ground, and a dog whimpering not so far away from it. It didn't take much deliberation for her to decide what she wanted to do. Taking some of the leftover beef jerky she had earlier, Elanor crouched down and offered it to the dog.

The canine graciously accepted the food, as well as some pets upon the head. For the first time in what felt like a long time, Elanor found herself smiling. That happiness was short-lived, though, as she felt something yank her back by her ponytail. She hit the ground only to see the barrel of a shotgun aimed directly at her.

It was, she assumed, the first man she heard. Older, gruff, and bleeding from the head. He was completely missing an eye, something he was clearly angry about. The position wasn't held for long, though, as the dog jumped on the older man. Elanor quickly got up and unholstered her pistol. Holding it boldly with one hand, she placed a bullet in the man's forehead. The dog let go of the man and rubbed up against Elanor's leg.

"Bet that felt good for you, huh?" Elanor spoke to the dog, earning a bark in response. She bent down to pet it again as she spoke. "Why don't you come with me, huh?" The dog responded positively, jumping up and giving Elanor's face a lick.

Elanor stood up, feeling more confident now that she had a new traveling companion. She turned to face south again, knowing she still had a long trip ahead of her, and with newfound determination, she began to walk, a new canine friend by her side.