LaGuardia Airport

A dusty wasteland of empty terminals and rotting airplane hulls stretches across the Iron Gardens where LaGuardia Airport once connected the old world to itself. The tarmac is cracked and buckled, the concourses hollow and silent, and the aircraft sit where they were abandoned, their fuselages slowly collapsing under decades of neglect. Nothing about the site is remarkable in a world full of ruins, except for one detail that unsettles everyone who knows of it.
  Nothing lives here. Not even the dead.
  The undead, which infest nearly every other structure and street in Old York, do not venture onto the airport grounds. Animals avoid it. Scavengers who have entered report finding nothing of value and feeling nothing but the urge to leave. No one has been able to explain what force repels all life from the site, and the few who have investigated have found no answers, only silence and dust.
  LaGuardia sits as one of Old York's quiet mysteries: a place that the apocalypse claimed but something else keeps empty.