Thirty Days Before The End

Amanda came back to life with seawater still choking her. Her fingers clawed desperately at the sheets as she coughed, expecting muddy floodwater, blood, and the crushing weight of death.

Instead, warm cotton pressed beneath her trembling palms, and familiar darkness surrounded her. She dragged in another breath and stared at the ceiling, her chest rising violently.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as memories crashed through her mind—the flood, the shark, the locked door, Eric, Katie, Susan. “No…” Her voice came out broken.

Amanda pressed both hands against her stomach, terrified of what she might find. Then her breath stopped completely. There was no wound. No blood. No seawater. Her body was whole.

And when she felt the faint warmth beneath her palm, tears immediately filled her eyes.

“My baby…” She whispered the words as though speaking louder might make them disappear.

Amanda slowly sat up, one trembling hand remaining over her stomach while the other reached blindly for the phone beside her.

“Please…” Her fingers shook so badly that she nearly dropped it.

She unlocked the screen, staring at the date. Then she froze. “No.” Amanda checked it again. The same date stared back at her.

She looked toward the bedroom window, then at the familiar furniture, the curtains, the nightstand, the photograph of herself and Eric she had once treasured. “This isn't possible.”

Her voice cracked as she stumbled out of bed and grabbed the calendar hanging beside the desk. Thirty days. Exactly thirty days before the tsunami.

“No…” Amanda's knees weakened, and she caught herself against the desk.

Her mind replayed everything with horrifying clarity.

Amanda covered her mouth as a sob escaped. “They killed me.” Her shoulders shook as she remembered begging them to open the door while the water rose around her.

“They watched me die.” The words tasted like blood.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the memories only became sharper. She could still hear Susan's voice. She could still hear Katie refusing to help her. She could still hear the door lock.

Then something unfamiliar spoke inside her consciousness. {Activation detected.}

Amanda's eyes flew open. “What?” Silence answered her. She slowly looked around the bedroom.

“Who said that?” {Successfully established a connection with the host.}

Amanda's breathing became shallow. “Host?”

{Confirmed. Amanda. Cognitive recognition established.}

She stared at the empty room, fear replacing grief.

“Who's doing this?” {I am A.R.I.S.—Apocalypse Response & Intelligence System. My primary purpose is to assist the host in surviving the approaching catastrophic event.}

Amanda's fingers tightened around the phone. “Apocalypse?”

{Confirmed. A catastrophic global event will begin within thirty days. Your previous death occurred during the initial disaster sequence.}

Amanda stopped breathing. “My death?”

{Confirmed. The host's previous life ended during the catastrophe. Upon death, A.R.I.S. initiated emergency temporal recovery protocols.}

Her face went pale. “You brought me back?”

{Affirmative. The host has returned to a point thirty days before the recorded catastrophe.}

Amanda stared at the wall, unable to process the impossible words. “Then everything happened?”

{Confirmed. Your pregnancy, betrayal, miscarriage, forced removal from your residence, tsunami and subsequent death all occurred in the previous timeline.}

Amanda's lips trembled. “So I'm not dreaming.”

{Negative. This is your second timeline.}

She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. For several seconds, Amanda could not speak. The pregnancy she had thought was lost was still inside her.

The life she had watched disappear had been returned with her. “Can I change it?”

Amanda's head lifted sharply. “l mean Everything?”

{Not everything. Future events are influenced by decisions, circumstances, and available information. Your knowledge provides a significant survival advantage, but future outcomes may change.}

Amanda swallowed. “Then tell me what I need to know.” {The catastrophe is approaching. Your immediate priorities are financial independence, secure shelter, survival resources, medical preparation, water, food, power, and reliable protection.}

Amanda's expression hardened. “And Eric?” {He remains unaware of the previous timeline.} Amanda almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat. Of course he was unaware.

He was probably asleep somewhere, believing tomorrow would be another ordinary day. He had no idea that Amanda remembered everything. “He doesn't know.”

{Correct. Katie and Susan are also unaware.}

Amanda stared toward the bedroom door. “So they still think I'm the same Amanda.” A bitter smile touched her lips. “Good.” Her voice was quiet now. “If they don't know, I won't tell them.”

Amanda's fingers slowly curled into her palm. “I won't confront Eric.” Her eyes hardened. “I won't warn Katie.” She drew a careful breath. “And I won't beg Susan to choose me.”

For the first time since waking, Amanda felt something other than grief. Control. She looked down at her stomach again. “You gave me my baby back.”

{The pregnancy existed at the temporal recovery point and was therefore restored with the host.}

Amanda's eyes burned. “I lost this child once.” Her voice softened painfully. “I won't lose it again.”

{Host: survival must become your highest priority.} Amanda wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“No.” She looked toward the bedroom door again. “Survival is only the beginning.” Her voice became colder. “They took everything from me because they believed I needed them.” Amanda slowly stood.

“This time, I won't need anyone.” She picked up her phone. “Tell me how much time I have.” The answer appeared instantly inside her mind.

{Apocalypse Countdown: 30 Days.}

Amanda stared into the darkness. Thirty days. Thirty days to save herself. Thirty days to protect her child. Thirty days to take back everything that had been placed in other people's hands.

And thirty days to make sure that when the world ended, she would not be the woman standing outside a locked door. She would be the woman who owned the door.

{Recommended priority: Establish financial independence and secure survival resources.} Amanda's expression changed. For the first time, she wasn't thinking about what Eric had done. She was thinking about what she would do next and this time, she would be ready!