Chapter 3

As the attic slowly emptied, an indescribable pleasure and a cold sense of safety washed over me.

And then, there was the most important spot, which was the basement storage room.

That was where we kept most of our food and water, along with a few heavy tools.

The stairs to the basement were tucked behind the kitchen, better concealed, but any sound from there would carry straight to the living room.

I held my breath, moving at a snail's pace, twice as slow as when I'd come up earlier, until I finally reached the basement door.

The door was locked.

The key was with my mom.

But back then, I'd secretly made myself a spare so I could sort out the stash.

I fished the cold key out of my pocket and eased it into the lock.

Click.

The sound was barely audible, but in the dead quiet, it made my heart stop.

I held my breath and listened. The TV was still blaring in the living room, and Jemma's exaggerated laughter rang out.

I slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind me.

The basement had no windows, so it was pitch black.

I fished out the small flashlight I'd brought and switched it on.

The beam lit up the whole scene in front of me.

Ready-to-eat meals and flour piled high to the ceiling, bottled water stacked like mountains, boxes and boxes of canned meat, fish, and fruit, crates of salt, sugar, and spices.

There were a few fuel heaters and big drums of fuel, all covered with waterproof tarps.

Everything here was paid for with my blood, sweat, and tears. It was my whole life.

And they were going to be my second chance.

I felt no attachment at all. As my flashlight swept across the room, everything just melted away in an instant.

The meal boxes vanished, the water mountains disappeared, and the can walls were just... gone.

I even took the plastic sheets and wooden boards underneath.

And finally, I scooped up the shovels and baseball bats for defense in the corner as well.

When the flashlight beam revealed nothing but cold concrete walls and floor, I switched it off and let myself get lost in the pitch-black silence.

It was over.

Everything in this house that I'd paid for with my own money, all the supplies that once belonged to "us", were mine only.

I didn't leave right away.

Back in my room, I pulled out my phone and started typing up a post on Twitter.

Last time, Devin showed up at our door on the third day of the apocalypse, somehow having heard we had a ton of supplies stashed away.

This time, I was giving the jerk a little push.

I chose a picture of the supplies I'd hoarded before, stacked so high that they filled half the room.

I captioned it, [Mom and Jemma keep saying I'm just being paranoid, but honestly, seeing all this stockpile makes me feel way more secure. This should last us for years, right? Someone hype me up!]

I made sure only Devin and his so-called "sister" Cora could see it, then hit post.

Then I blocked my mom and Jemma on every contact, phone, email, and everything. I popped out my SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it into my space.

After that, I swapped it out for an anonymous SIM card I'd prepared long ago.

Finally, I took one last look around this place I'd called my room for years, but it had never felt like home.

I grabbed the few sentimental keepsakes that were truly mine, along with my important documents, and stuffed them into a plain backpack.

Everything else, including the old clothes my mom "bestowed" on me and the outdated skincare products Jemma "handed down" as charity, I left untouched.

It was deep into the night, and the house was utterly silent. The living room had been quiet for ages.

My mom and Jemma were probably sleeping soundly, satisfied after "teaching their wasteful daughter/sister a lesson."

I eased my door open, slipped my feather-light backpack on, and drifted through the pitch-black living room like a real ghost, quietly turning the lock on the front door.

Click.

The door opened.

The chill of the final night before the world ended swept in.

I didn't look back.

I slipped into the darkness, closing the door softly behind me.

I shut Mom and Jemma out, sealing them and the tragic fate that awaited them firmly behind that door.

The wind was razor-sharp, cutting through the empty streets before dawn.

I pulled up the hood of my down jacket and buried my face in my thick scarf, leaving only my eyes exposed.

My backpack was light, but I walked with steady steps, each one firm and sure, leading me toward a new life.

The city was still slumbering, and the streetlights cast a misty yellow glow that blurred in the intensifying cold.

The occasional car rolled by, its tires amplified in the silence, then quickly faded into the distance.

Everything seemed no different from any other cold winter night.

But only I knew that in a few hours, the sky would turn ghostly pale, the first snowflake would drift down with a sense of utter despair, and then an endless blizzard would rage, with the temperature dropping.

The power would go out in the chaos, the internet would glitch out, and then go dark for good.