The view was gorgeous from up here.  The deep valleys, the emerald forests, the winding crystal clear rivers and magnificent blue bays.  This was a beauty to be cherished.  It was if she could see it all, and she loved it.  

![Washington.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmbEV1QePvT5JuYNYq8Enk7QDLrxYGauUgw3FBETV31CRU/Washington.jpg)

@Skyrah had finally climbed as high as she was going to make it.  An 8,300 foot climb might not seem too high of an altitude for the average person, but because of her “condition”, her limited lung capacity just couldn't handle much more.  But she needed to do this.  Climbing mountains was how she improved her endurance and breathing. Her lungs were much smaller, about two thirds the size that they should be.  Mountaineering gave her an excellent opportunity to practice her belly breathing and pressure breath techniques.  She was overcoming her handicap.  Someday maybe she would climb the full 14,411 feet to the summit of Mt Rainier, but that day wasn't going to be today.  

Observation Rock was her final destination today, a large rock outcropping on a northwestern ridge of Mt Rainier. It was late afternoon and she would wait to watch the sunset and camp here for the night to rest. She would return to the caravan in the morning.   

On a clear day like today, it was as if the world stretched on forever. To the north she could see well into Canada, a beautiful country she knew, but getting there was much easier said than done.  To the northwest was the Olympic mountains.  The saw shaped ridges sculpted over thousands of years by glaciers were an amazing sight to see.  In between were the cobalt blue waters of Puget Sound.  

And the cities? From here it was too far to see the death and mayhem that still reigned below. She preferred not to see it anyway. She came here to get away from it all.  Seattle had been completely decimated during the great war.  Even 23 years after the last bomb fell, it still had not been rebuilt or even an attempted resettlement by anyone smart enough to enter that city.  There were still residual effects of the radiation that made it unsafe. However, that was the least of the dangers. More concerning were those who did live there. Killers, madmen and cannibals.  All of them. There was no valid reason for any sane person to ever consider going into Seattle.  

Olympia and Tacoma had been spared in the war.  The Army and Air force at Joint Base Lewis-McChord, with the support of the Navy at Kitsap, managed to stave off the Chinese and Russian air raids, invasion forces and paratroopers.  But not without great causality. The US military had just lost too much.  Too many lives, too many assets.  It was a stalemate.  While the surviving Russian and Chinese troops had been driven south into the cities of Centralia and Chehalis, the remaining U.S. Military had made their stronghold in Olympia and Tacoma.  

After 5 years of small battles and skirmishes, what was left of the U.S.  finally collapsed.  Political tensions between leaders in Olympia and Tacoma led to both cities dividing and forming what they called a “Separate but Unified” agreement to each becoming sovereign city-states that would work together for common defense. SBU agreements were common between neighboring cities. There was no United States anymore, there was no federal government left, and there was no Washington State. Olympia and Tacoma would both have to pay for their military protection. What was left of the military at Lewis-McChord degraded to nothing more than a for-hire mercenary force, with their city-state being Lakewood.  They charged for their services.  Services like the protection of trade caravans that Skyrah had hired.  Of course in these days, Lakewood Militia was the most powerful military force in what used to be the northwestern United States.  There was no official political name for this region anymore.    

Americans in these parts no longer had the fight left in them to continue battling the foreign invaders that inhabited their land.  The Russians and the Chinese no longer wished to fight either.  A treaty was established between The Lakewood Militia State and the city-states of Centralia and Chehalis.  That would forever become home of the foreign invaders.  Although wishing to finish off the enemy forces, Olympia had no choice in the matter, they were too badly in debt to Lakewood.  

The biggest danger was to any female caught outside the southern borders of Olympia.  They would quickly become property of the Russians to either be kept or sold to their southern Chinese neighbors.  Slavery was the norm in this land, and the both the Russian and Chinese troops needed women.  By the time Skyrah was in her twenties there was already a new generation of sons and daughters of the foreign invaders, growing into adulthood who had been indoctrinated into believing that the Olympians and the Tacomans were their oppressors.  

@Skyrah just shook her head in disgust over what people had become.  She had climbed Mt. Rainier in order to clear her mind of the killing and slavery below.  While it helped, it still did not remove the images from her mind.  Skyrah had an eidetic memory.  Images of her past still haunted her.  They always would and she knew this.  She could even draw pictures from memory of events that took place in the early years of her life.  Her memory was so clear in fact that she could remember her very first steps, her very first words...and...my God.  It was just too much.  

She didn't even notice the sharp sting of the cold mountain air as it whipped across her face.  Her deep thoughts consumed her.  Skyrah was a very strong woman, both physically and mentally.  But to look south toward Mt. St. Helens.  She couldn't do it.  The horror of her first years was unbearable.  She remembered the first flash, the first nuke that destroyed Portland, the city where she was born.  She trembled as she remembered her mother, a tear streaking down her face.     

Her mother was one of the only two people she ever loved. Skyrah never blamed her mom for what she had to endure.  Both of them were victims of circumstance.  It was men that she blamed.  She hated all men.  Especially Thomas.  That man was the most vile human she ever knew, as if he was Satan incarnate himself.  Skyrah buried her face into her hands and wept.  

Skyrah recalled the events as clear as day.  Even though she was less than a year old when it happened, and unable to fully comprehend what was going on at the time, her later memories would be so vivid that they would reveal the story to her.  It would take years, but eventually her mind would piece together the horror that befell her as a baby and young child.

Shortly after fleeing the war, Thomas and Carl had discovered a cabin near Mt. St Helens.  It was in this place that Skyrah would have the worst of her memories.  After a few months of surviving on canned soup, spam, crackers and whatever food they could scrounge, hunger began to set in.  The two thugs may have been good street fighters, but they were no survivalists.  Neither one could hunt. Thomas's eyesight had only partially regained from being blinded by the nuclear explosion.  Carl was a horrible shot with the .45, and the ammo didn't last long.  Winter was setting in, and so was the fear of starving to death.  That's when the two began to have “other ideas”.

Skyrah's mom would be the first of many of their victims.  She was forced to watch as Thomas and Carl stabbed, mutilated and diced up her mother right in front of her.  Cindy was already on the verge of death from starvation and malnutrition.  That's how they rationalized it.  She had grown sick and weak and was unable to fight back.  And of course, Skyrah could do nothing but cry.  What else could a one year old baby girl do? 

“Eat this!” demanded Thomas.  “I said Eat it!”  Skyrah tried to refuse, but her survival instincts had kicked in, and the hunger was just too great. Thomas and Carl had force fed her parts of her own mother. They pried her mouth open and shoved the flesh in.  While holding her nose shut and mouth closed, they forced her to swallow.  They did this over and over again gorging her on it.   “We can't have you going hungry, now can we?” Thomas smirked.

For the following 6 years, Thomas and Carl would lure the weakest survivors of the war into the cabin where they would butcher them and trade the human body parts to other people as food.  They did this in order to acquire more weapons and supplies.  This became their new business.  It didn't take long for survivors to accept the new food supply.  After all, there was no wildlife left anywhere.  Deer, elk, bear, rabbits, all hunted to near extinction. There were no farms and no gardens.  Stores had long since been cleared out. It was survival of the fittest and the weakest people were to be killed off and eaten.  

From the moment that Skyrah had witnessed the gruesome murder of her mother, and for years after, she became their personal play toy.  They would rape and abuse her repeatedly.  There was no law, no consequences to worry about, and these two were already the most despicable people you could imagine.  The only thing that kept Skyrah alive was the value she had for them to sell to others.  The torment she would endure would never be wiped from her memory.  

The abuse and torture in that cabin lasted until Skyrah was about 7 years old.  She never had a childhood, no other kids to play with, no father, no role models.  She never knew what it meant to be a kid.  She had no fear anymore.  Her small child mind had become hardened to the evil around her and the despicable things that were done to her.  It only fueled her hatred of men.  She watched hundreds of killings in that home over the years.  She observed, and she learned.  She knew how to snap a neck, how to cut a jugular, how to decapitate, where the heart was, and how to disembowel a victim.  

Skyrah's eidetic memory allowed her to learn how to wield and throw a knife simply by observation.  She learned how to shoot a gun just by watching Carl practice with rifles and pistols that they had acquired from their  trade and from their victims.  She watched how they built traps and snared people.  Carl honed in his survival skills over the years, and as he did, she watched and learned every bit of it.  She learned how to speak by watching Thomas make deals and trade with other new warlords in the area.  She absorbed everything she saw.  Skyrah would often steal topographic maps to read while learning how to use a compass.

Deep in thought and memory, as the sun descended on the horizon, Skyrah positioned herself on top of Observation Rock so she could get a better view of the sunset.  The orange colors across the clouds and landscape as the sun dropped below the Olympic peninsula were just stunning to watch as darkness swept the sky. She watched the sunset in awe in an attempt to shake those memories as she recalled the night she killed those bastards.  She was only 7 years old when she did it.   

Carl was the first one she killed.  Get him while he was most vulnerable she remembered.  That's how it had to happen.  It didn't take long for Carl to fall asleep after having his way with her that night.  She never fought either of the two, always complied, always obedient, never any trouble.  It would be said that Carl let his guard down, but the fact was, neither of them had their guard up in the first place when it came to Skyrah.  She just did what she was told. There was no reason to think she would cross either of them. 

While Carl was fast asleep, Skyrah slipped out of the bed and grabbed the makeshift knife that he had fabricated out of an old saw blade. She snuck up to him, leaned over the bed, and slit is throat. Blood began spurting from his neck and spattering across her face.  Gurgling and choking on his own blood, his eyes opened in shock and horror.  But it was too late, he would be dead in a matter of seconds.  Too quick to even warn Thomas.  Skyrah stood there and watched him die.  Not even phased by the taking of that evil life.  “Die F-cker” she murmured under her breath.  

Carl had acquired a safe that he kept his guns in that he had tucked away in the corner of the bedroom.  Only one time, when she was 4, had Skyrah ever watched him turn the numbers on the dial to the combination safe.   That was all she need.  Her near photographic memory would serve her well tonight.  34-26-67.  She quickly dialed the numbers and opened the door to the safe.  There was some cash there, but that wasn't any good.  Some gold and several silver coins caught her eye.  She would come back for that later.  She was going for the gun. She saw the Smith and Wesson .45, but that was too big for her small child hands.  She knew she could manage with the .22 pistol, but she couldn't rely on that to kill Thomas.  The 9mm.  It was a Beretta Px4 Sub-compact chambered in 9x19mm.  That's the one she would use.  

Skyra checked the magazine on the Beretta, it was already loaded.  She cocked the pistol loading a round into the chamber, clicked off the safety and proceeded down the hall of the cabin to Thomas's bedroom.  Creaking the door open slightly she could see he was sound asleep in his bed.  She proceeded to tip toe so as not to make a sound as she inched step by step to the side of his bed.  She raised the pistol and pointed it directly at his head.  Not even 5 feet away.  Close enough she knew she'd get a good shot, but not so close that he could knock the gun out of her hand.  “Thomas!” She shouted.  She wanted him to see what was about to happen.  She wanted him to die in pain suffering.  

Thomas was startled awake by the shout of that girl.  “What the f-ck!”  

Skyrah leveled the gun and shifted aim from his head to his torso.  BAM! The blast of the Beretta rang in her ears as she shot him in the gut.  “Die  f-cker!  Die!”  BAM! BAM! She fired two more shots into his gut.  BAM!  The next shot nearly blowing his right hand clean off.  BAM! Another one into his leg.  BAM! BAM!  Skyrah continued to unload on him but without offering a kill shot.  BAM! BAM! She emptied the entire magazine into him.  His days...no seconds... were numbered.  She had shot him so many times, there was no chance he would survive.  Wallowing in pain and sheets soaked in blood, Thomas could barely even utter a word “Buh...Buh...B-tch” he managed to slip from his mouth.   

Skyrah ran back to Carls room, grabbed the knife and dashed back into Thomas's room.  She jumped on top of him and began stabbing him.  One jab right after another, in his gut, in his chest, in his neck, and in his face.  Over, and over again she stabbed him in a rage.  He was already dead by now, but she kept stabbing as long as her energy would last.  Skyrah was a killer.  She felt no remorse for taking their lives.  It felt GOOD!  These monsters had stolen her mother, the only love of her life away from her.  It felt good to kill them.  

From this day forward, not only would she have a murderous heart toward all men, she would be known as a killer of killers, and a thief of thieves.  No slaver in this land would ever sleep without one eye open again.  

Skyrah kept trying to shake the memories of those years from her mind.  She was tired.  She crawled down to a flat area at the base of Observation Rock.  It was getting dark and cold on Mt. Rainier.  It was time to sleep.  She broke out her sleeping bag, rolled it out, and crawled in.  Skayrah would head back down to the caravan in the morning.

<center>[Prologue](https://steemit.com/writing/@tomtrademore/skyrah-prologue-and-so-darkness-covers-the-earth)</center>

-------------------

Thank you for reading the first chapter of my story.  Did you read the prologue?  If not, be sure to read it here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@tomtrademore/skyrah-prologue-and-so-darkness-covers-the-earth

There you will find some backstory to Skyrah, and her mother.

Be sure to follow the Character @Skyrah and the #skyrah tag for more chapters to come!

All rewards from this story will go toward Steem Power.  Thank you for your support