APOCALYPSE REBORN: Survive Or Die Twice.

BETRAYAL AND REBIRTH

Sandra's Pov

My bleeding fingernails scraped against the reinforced steel doorframe, digging into the tiny grooves until my knuckles turned white, then crimson.

“Drake—please! Drake! Look at me!” The scream tore raw from my throat.

My husband stood three feet away in the warm glow of the hall light. His eyes were fixed firmly on the polished concrete floor, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, silent as a grave.

Beside him, his mother wrapped a thick wool scarf tighter around her neck. She didn't look angry; her face was a mask of cold, practical arithmetic. She reached out with a gloved hand and nudged my shoulder toward the dark, gaping abyss of the storm doors.

“You’ve always been a survivor, Sandra,” his mother murmured softly, her voice carrying the gentle, patronizing cadence she usually reserved for house help. “This won’t be any different. Besides, the pantry is down to three weeks of rations. We have to preserve resources for the family.” She offered a faint, chilling smile. “Don't worry about your parents' estate. I’ll make sure your inheritance is managed properly.”

“Drake!” I sobbed, my feet slipping on the slick metal threshold.

“Drake, tell her! Tell them!”

Then came Selena. Drake’s younger sister.

She slammed her palms against my chest, pushing her weight into me. I locked my elbows, my feet hovering over the edge where the shelter ended and the blizzard began. My bare soles accidentally scraped against the skin of her forearm as I thrashed, trying desperately to find purchase.

“Ah!” Selena shrieked, recoiling violently as if struck by lightning. She clutched her wrist, her eyes brimming with sudden, theatrical tears. “Drake, baby! She’s hurting me! She’s ripping my skin!”

Baby?

The word hung suspended in the freezing air, absurd and grotesque.

Drake’s head snapped up. The passive, cowardly posture dissolved in an instant. He rushed forward, his eyes wild with concern, and grabbed Selena around the waist.

He hauled her back against his chest, locking his arms around her, shielding her as if she were made of spun glass.

I froze. The cold air was already clawing at my throat, but the sight of his hands anchored firmly on her hips turned my blood into needles.

Drake paused, looking down at me where I clung to the doorframe, my knuckles bleeding, my breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. He cleared his throat.

“I suppose I should at least be honest with you in your final minute, Sandra,” he said, his voice flat, stripped of any warmth it had ever faked over the last four years.

He pulled Selena closer, burying his chin into the crook of her neck. She pressed back against him, a terrible, triumphant smirk dawning across her lips. “Selena has always been my woman in case you’re still too stupid to understand that. I married you because I can't watch my woman go through the pain of childbirth!”

My brain stalled. The shock hit harder than the wind, paralyzing my voice. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even weep.

Before my mind could process the grotesque reality of his words, Drake raised his heavy winter boot.

Crack.

The blow landed squarely against my chest. The impact shattered my grip on the doorframe. I flew backward into the screaming white void.

The heavy steel door slammed shut with a definitive, mechanical thud, cutting off the light, the warmth, and the last remnants of my sanity.

My bare feet hit the ice.

Instantaneous, agonizing frostbite roared up my ankles like liquid nitrogen, freezing the flesh solid in seconds. But the cold was immediately drowned out by a chorus of wet, guttural growls coming from the zombies.

They moved like lightning through the snowstorm. Shadows with pale, rotting skin and milky, hollow eyes bounded toward me. Before I could even scream, over five of them slammed into my body, throwing me flat onto the frozen earth.

Sharp, blackened teeth sank into my throat. Fingers like iron claws tore open the skin of my face, peeling away cheek and bone. The sensation of my own flesh being shredded and swallowed raw surged through my nervous system in waves of unimaginable agony.

I lay there, staring up at the gray, swirling sky, my blood painting the white snow a deep, steaming crimson, until the darkness swallowed me whole.

My eyes sprang open.

A harsh, golden light stung my retinas, making my head throb violently. Heat radiated through my clothes. Sweat rolled down my back, soaking my silk blouse despite the hum of an air conditioner overhead.

I gasped for air, clutching my chest where Drake’s boot had crushed my ribs. But there was no pain. No frostbite. No tearing teeth.

“Ma’am? Are you ready to order, or should I give you a few more minutes?”

A waiter stood beside me, clad in a crisp black vest, holding a laminated menu.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Where are the zombies? Where is the ice? I looked down at my hands. My skin was smooth, unblemished, free of dried blood and ripped fingernails.

Panicking, my hand flew up to my face. My fingers desperately traced my nose, my cheeks, my lips. A zombie had ripped my face off—I had felt the cartilage snap in its jaws! But everything was soft, intact, and warm.

I grabbed my phone from the marble tabletop. The screen lit up:

FEBRUARY 14, 2026. 7:15 PM.

March 6th, 2026. That was the day I died. The day the outbreak hit its peak. The day my husband, his mother and his disguised mistress, threw me to the wolves.

I was back. Three weeks before the end of the world.

My thumb trembled as memories flooded my mind. Tonight was Valentine's Day. In my past life, I had invited Drake here to give him a romantic surprise. Tonight was the night my parents' corporate attorney called to finalize the transfer of my multi-billion-dollar inheritance.

And then, out of soft-headed, blind devotion, I had instructed the lawyer to put Drake’s name on the deeds as the primary signatory. I had handed him the very inheritance

he would later kill me for.

I dismissed the waiter and then a shadow fell across the white tablecloth.

“Make it brief, Sandra. I told you on the phone I don't have all night for this nonsense.”

Drake stood before me, impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit. And attached to his arm, wearing a tight crimson dress, was Selena. Her fingers were laced tightly through his, a sweet, innocent smile plastered on her face, until her eyes met mine. The smile wavered, replaced by a flicker of annoyance.

The blood in my veins turned from ice to pure, concentrated fire. How stupid had I been not to realize that no man brings his supposed, beloved sister to a date meant for him and his wife. I had been blinded by my one-sided love not to notice this in the past.

But now, not anymore. That pathetic, pleading woman who died in the snow died forever. In her place, something cold, calculating, and utterly merciless took its first breath.

Drake pulled out a chair and sat down, dragging Selena down next to him. “Well? Speak up. Why are you staring at me like that?”

In my past life, I would have cowered. I had been systematically trained to lower my gaze, conditioned by his quiet aggression never to meet his eyes directly.

This time, I leaned back, resting my chin on my folded hands, staring straight into his pupils with unblinking, chilling intensity.

Drake’s jaw clenched. The audacity of my gaze unnerved him.

Selena leaned over, resting her chin on Drake’s shoulder, her voice dripping with artificial sweet poison. “Drake… when did your wife become so disobedient? The way she’s glaring at you is so disrespectful.”

A bitter smirk broke across my lips.

“Disrespectful? Well… I was just wondering… am I actually the wife here, or is someone else playing the part?”

Drake’s face flushed a deep, ugly red. “What the hell did you just say? Are you accusing me of cheating?”

Without warning, his hand shot across the table.

SLAP!

The sharp crack echoed off the mahogany walls of the restaurant. My head snapped to the side. The stinging heat burned on my left cheek. From the corner of my eye, I caught the flare of pure, sadistic satisfaction dancing in Selena’s eyes.

Drake sneered, pulling his hand back. “Know your place, Sandra!. I’ve told you a thousand times not to talk back or look at me like—”

CRACK!

The force of my hand striking his cheek sent his head spinning violently to the right.