Chapter 3
I strolled out from behind the crowd, casually brushing the dust off my hands.
"Mr. Flores, the roads in our village have been falling apart for years. How about you chip in and help us out?" I said.
When Roger Flores saw me, his swagger shot up another notch.
Roger snapped, "Jenna! You did this on purpose, didn't you? Just a few days ago, trucks were rolling in and out of your village. The road's perfectly fine.
"Get these broke losers to lift my car out right now. Or I'll smash your village council office to pieces."
I smiled. "Sure, we can tow it out. That'll be 15 grand."
"Are you out of your mind? You guys dug this crappy pit. I haven't even asked you to pay for my car repairs, and now you want money from me?" Roger snapped.
"30 grand," I said.
I raised the price, expressionless.
"You..." Roger sputtered.
"45 grand. Suit yourself. If you don't pay, your car can sit here and be a roadblock," I said.
The fat on Roger's cheeks was trembling with rage.
"Fine. Jenna, getting gutsy now, aren't you?" Roger shot back.
He pulled out his phone, dialed, and put it on speaker.
As soon as the call went through, he instantly put on his best victim act.
"Mom, Jenna is ganging up with outsiders to bully me. My car's stuck in a pit, and she won't help. She's even trying to shake me down for money," Roger said.
My mom, Kiara Flores, started yelling on the phone right away.
She shouted, "Jenna, you ungrateful girl. That's your brother.
"Are you trying to defy me? Apologize to him and get his car out right now. Or I'll pretend I never had a worthless daughter like you."
I snorted.
This was what my so-called mom was like.
She thought just acknowledging me as her daughter was already some kind of blessing.
I guessed I was supposed to worship her and play the perfect little slave for them.
When I was one year old, my dad died in a construction accident. Kiara took the money, abandoned me, and went off to marry the local tycoon from the neighboring village.
I survived thanks to the villagers; everyone chipped in to feed me. Without their kindness, I would've been dead and forgotten somewhere by now.
All these years, she never once came to see me.
It wasn't until Roger started middle school and his grades tanked that she finally bothered to find me, to make me tutor Roger. That was the first time I ever laid eyes on my so-called mother.
What really stung was that in my previous life, I was so blinded by my craving for family that I couldn't see the truth that Kiara and Roger were a pair of heartless people.
"Oh wow, a grown man in his twenties still needs his mom to feed him milk when he goes out," someone from the crowd teased.
The villagers around us snickered.
"Yeah, Mr. Flores, so are you off the bottle yet?" someone else chimed in.
Roger's face flushed bright red as he yelled, "Shut up! You bunch of peasants."
I spoke into the phone, my voice icy.
I said, "Kiara, listen up.
"My real family is the people in this village. As for a mother? I don't have one."
As soon as I said that, the villagers around me perked up, looking even more confident.
Kiara went silent on the other end. She never expected me, the girl who always followed orders, to stand up to her for once.
Roger looked at me like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
The only reason he dared to push me around was that he knew how much I craved family.
"So, are you paying up, or are you going to get lost?" I said, staring Roger down.
Roger shot daggers at me, but in the end, he grudgingly sent over the 45 grand.
Once the money came through, Myron hitched up Roger's car and pulled it out of the pit.
"Jenna, just you wait; I'm keeping score," Roger growled.
As he left, Roger shot one last threat at me, gritting his teeth in anger.
On December 23rd, the sky was suddenly painted an eerie shade of dark purple.
There was no warning, no transition.
The temperature plummeted from 41 degrees Fahrenheit to 67 degrees below zero Fahrenheit in an instant.
A terrifying cold snap, along with a mysterious virus, swept across the globe in the blink of an eye.
Phones and TVs were flooded with official emergency alerts.
It read: [Red Alert: An extreme cold wave is coming. Everyone must stay indoors. No one is allowed outside.
I pulled my arctic parka tighter around me, turned, and descended into the tunnel.
The heavy alloy door slammed shut, locking out the merciless apocalypse outside.
Inside the tunnel hall, the fire was crackling, filling the air with the cozy aroma of roasted sweet potatoes and the tang of vinegar from the savory meat pastries.
The ladies from the village were busy making savory meat pastries with a bunch of kids, their little cheeks pink from the warmth of the fire.
I pulled out my phone. Surprisingly, the internet was still up.
The trending list was inundated with hashtags: [globalfreeze], [zombieseatpeople] and [endoftheworld].
I clicked randomly into a livestream.
The streamer was huddled under a blanket, shivering so badly her lips had turned a dark purple.
"Guys, it's freezing. Can anyone send me something to keep warm? I don't wanna die," she whimpered.
The camera swung to the fish tank behind her, where a few expensive golden arowanas were frozen in place like museum pieces.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
It was Kiara.