Chapter 2
In the apocalypse, people mattered less than dogs. Sometimes, animal meds were easier to get than medicine for humans, and they could save your life all the same.
The manager helping me wiped sweat from his brow. "Ms. Grant, the amount you're buying... it's enough to supply a top-tier hospital. I'll have to report this to my superiors."
I slid a thick envelope of cash, about $15,000, across the counter.
"Manager, I'm in a hurry. This is for you and your guys, a little something to make things easier. Help me out, will you?"
The manager's eyes lit up when he saw the stack of cash.
He grinned and took the envelope. "No problem at all, Ms. Grant. You're a straight shooter. We'll get your order ready right away."
Even before the apocalypse hit, cash could open any door.
Finally, the most important destination, the forgotten military supply warehouse out in the western suburbs.
In my previous life, a mudslide buried the entrance, and during the military's evacuation, they assumed it was destroyed and abandoned it.
It wasn't until the second year of the apocalypse that a lucky squad dug it out. The supplies inside catapulted them into becoming one of the strongest survivor factions around.
This time, it was mine.
As dusk settled in, I fired up the small excavator I'd rented and started digging at the base of the overgrown hill, at the spot etched in my memory.
The engine roared as the machine tore through the earth, and soon, a thick military green steel door emerged from the dirt.
I used the cutter I'd bought at the hardware store to cut through the lock, and the smell of old dust hit me as the door creaked open.
I switched on my flashlight, and the beam lit up the scene inside. My breath quickened.
Rows of shelves were packed with military canned food, combat rations, and water purification tablets, all lined up perfectly.
On the other side, crates of anti-stab vests, tactical vests, military knives, entrenching shovels, and even several boxes of high-powered military crossbows with matching bolts were stacked up.
At the very back, I spotted a few military radios and a full set of outdoor surveillance gear, night vision and thermal scopes included.
In the apocalypse, this stuff was a thousand times more precious than gold.
My hands were trembling as I swept every single item from the warehouse into my inventory, not a single thing left behind.
When I was done, there were less than twenty-four hours left before the apocalypse would begin.
I didn't head home. Instead, I drove straight to the apocalypse bunker I'd carefully chosen for myself and my family, an abandoned bomb shelter on the far outskirts of the city.
This shelter was a Cold War relic, buried deep within the mountain. Its fortress-like structure had just one narrow entrance, making it easy to defend and tough for anyone to break in.
Most importantly, it was hooked up to an underground water source, taking care of the deadliest issue in the apocalypse: drinking water.
In my last life, this place was seized by a vicious gang. Countless survivors passing by were subjected to unspeakable torment here.
But now, I would be the sole master of this place.
I fortified the bunker's sole entrance with steel plates and fast-setting cement I picked up at the hardware market, making it nearly impenetrable. The only way in was a heavy steel door, locked tight with both a password and fingerprint scan.
Then, I started to set up my "new home".
I grabbed a diesel generator from my inventory and hooked it up to the lights. The gloomy bunker instantly blazed bright, like it was noon outside.
Next up were the solar panels. I installed them in a hidden spot on the mountaintop, guaranteeing long-term power for my base.
I divided the bunker into separate zones: living quarters, storage, a planting area, and a defense section.
In the living area, I pulled out a comfy bed, a soft sofa, and even set up a mini home theater, all straight from my inventory.
Life after the apocalypse was harsh, but I refused to just scrape by like a rat clinging to survival.
In the storage zone, piles of food, medicine, and weapons were organized and lined up on shelves, putting any pre-apocalypse supermarket to shame.
In the planting zone, I carved out a little indoor farm, rigging up LED grow lights and hydroponic nutrients. I planted potatoes, tomatoes, and a bunch of quick-growing greens, ready to keep us fed no matter what.
Once everything was set up, I finally had a moment to sit down and pull out my phone.
There were over a dozen missed calls on the screen, every single one from Zachary.
There were also a few WhatsApp messages from Vanessa.
[Anya, where have you been? You're not picking up your phone. Did you forget our weekend shopping plans?]
[Hey girl, Zachary pissed me off again today. Come out, let's grab a drink and vent about him!]
[Where are you? Did you just vanish or something?]
'Staring at those phony messages, that icy dread from when I was shoved into a zombie horde in my last life washed over me all over again,' Anya thought.
Just then, my phone rang again, it was Zachary calling.
Anya answered, but didn't say a word.