Chapter 2

ANGELA’S POV

The rough, thin blanket was twisted around my legs. I shot up from the mattress, my mouth wide open, sucking in air like I had been drowning. My fingers acted like wild claws, tearing at my throat. I dug my nails into the skin, bracing myself for the slick feel of pouring blood and torn flesh.

"Where... where is it?" I gasped, my chest heaving. "Where's the blood?"

I patted my neck frantically. Smooth skin. No bites. No missing chunks of muscle.

I looked around, my eyes wide and panicked. The ruined, dead street was gone. There was no cold metal streetlamp at my back. There were no yellow ropes burning my wrists. No Tony. No zombies. No smell of rotting meat and old blood.

Instead, I was sitting on a lumpy bed. The walls were painted a boring, faded yellow. A small, dusty fan spun lazily on a desk in the corner.

"My old room," I whispered, my voice shaking. "The Bellini house? The attic?"

I had spent ten years in this cramped little box, working as a maid for the rich Bellini family. But that was a lifetime ago. How could I possibly be here?

Before I could even put my feet on the cold wooden floor, a bright blue light flashed in the middle of the room.

Ding!

A glowing blue screen floated right in front of my face. It looked exactly like a menu from one of those video games the Bellini kids used to play on the massive TV downstairs.

[SYSTEM BINDING COMPLETE. WELCOME, ANGELA.]

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, this is rich. Now I'm having video game hallucinations? Did the zombie bite infect my brain already?"

[THIS IS NOT A HALLUCINATION. YOU HAVE BEEN GRANTED A SECOND CHANCE TO REWRITE YOUR DESTINY.]

"A second chance?" I scoffed. I crossed my arms over my chest, tilting my head. I forced a wicked, teasing smile to my lips, pushing down the panic. "Well, hello there, gorgeous. Aren't you a sweet talker? Usually, a guy buys me a drink before offering me the world. Who are you supposed to be? God?"

[I AM THE SURVIVAL SYSTEM. I AM HERE TO ASSIST YOU.]

"Assist me?" I chuckled, leaning closer to the floating blue light. "Honey, nobody assists me. I'm the one who does the dirty work. I'm just a maid, remember? I'm just disposable zombie bait. I've never been anyone important enough to deserve a magic screen."

[YOU ARE THE HOST. PLEASE VERIFY YOUR STATS.]

"You're very bossy, you know that?" I purred, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I kind of like it. But let's see if you're actually real first."

I reached my hand out, fully expecting my fingers to pass right through the blue light like smoke. I expected to wake up dying on that street. But when my fingertips touched the screen, it felt like smooth, cold glass. A tiny spark of static shocked my skin.

"Ouch!" I pulled my hand back. "You are real."

The screen shifted, the blue text vanishing and replacing itself with bold, white letters.

[CURRENT DATE: MAY 27, 2016. TIME UNTIL APOCALYPSE: 60 DAYS.]

"May 27, 2016..." I read the words out loud. The date tasted strange on my tongue. "Sixty days. That's exactly two months before everything went to hell. Two months before the sky turned red."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The loud banging on my thin wooden door made me jump out of my skin.

"Angie? Hey, Angie, are you awake in there?" a deep voice called out.

I recognized that voice instantly. It was Marco, the Bellini family’s young, handsome driver. He died in the first week of the outbreak, torn apart in the main garage. But right now, he sounded very much alive and very annoyed.

"Well, well, well," I called out, putting on my best, breathy teasing voice. I walked over to the door. "Marco? Is that you knocking on a lady's door so early in the morning? You know it's not polite to rush a girl while she's in bed."

"Very funny, Angie," Marco groaned from the other side of the wood. "Can you just open the door? Mrs. Bellini is going crazy down there."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," I laughed, leaning my shoulder against the doorframe. "But what about you, Marco? Do you want me to open the door right now? I haven't even put my maid uniform on yet. Are you hoping to catch a private show?"

"Jesus, Angie, stop playing around!" he yelled, his voice cracking a little. I could practically hear his cheeks turning bright red through the door. "Just hurry up, okay? The new girl is arriving today. They are doing the big welcome outside right now. I need you to go down to the kitchen and get the fancy glasses ready for the toast."

"Relax, handsome," I teased, trailing a finger down the edge of the door. "I'll be down in five minutes. Try not to miss me too much."

"Just hurry up!" Marco muttered. I listened to his heavy boots stomping away down the narrow attic stairs.

I smiled, but the playful energy vanished the second his footsteps faded. My heart was pounding hard. The new girl. The big welcome.

I turned away from the door and rushed over to the small, circular window that looked out over the front of the massive estate.

I wiped a layer of dust off the glass and looked down. My breath caught in my throat.

It was exactly the scene I remembered from ten long years ago. The massive iron gates were open. A shiny black town car was parked right in the middle of the circular driveway.

Mrs. Bellini was standing by the car, dressed in an expensive white suit. She was sobbing, holding her manicured hands over her mouth. Mr. Bellini was standing next to her. He had his arms wrapped tight around a skinny, pale young girl with long dark hair.

He was holding her like she was the most precious, delicate thing in the entire world. Like she was made of thin, expensive glass.

"There she is," I whispered to myself, pressing my forehead against the cool window pane. "The long-lost daughter. Maya."

I remembered this morning perfectly. The first time I lived this day, I stood at this exact same window. I had watched them with a heavy, ugly knot of jealousy in my stomach. I was a nobody who scrubbed their toilets, and this girl was being handed a perfect, rich family on a silver platter. I had watched them cry happy tears, and then I silently walked back downstairs to finish ironing Mr. Bellini's shirts without saying a single word.

But this time? Looking down at them now? The jealousy was completely gone.

I didn't care about their money. I didn't care about their big mansion or their fancy cars. None of that would matter in sixty days anyway. Cash would become useless green paper. The cars would become metal coffins.

In place of that old jealousy, a feeling of cold, clear calculation washed over me. My mind was running a hundred miles an hour.

I know what is coming for the world. I know about the monsters, the endless hunger, and the dark, awful things regular humans will do to each other just to survive.

But I know something else, too. Something much more important.

"System," I said out loud, not taking my eyes off the young girl down in the driveway. "Are you still listening?"

[I AM ALWAYS LISTENING, HOST.]

"Good."

Tonight, there is going to be a massive dinner party in the main dining room. They are going to introduce Maya to the whole family and all their rich friends. And during dessert, Mrs. Bellini is going to give that skinny little girl a special welcome gift.

An old, antique jade necklace.

It looked like a cheap piece of green stone, but it wasn't. I knew the truth. Two months from now, when the world ends, Maya is going to trip and cut her hand. Her blood is going to drop onto that green stone.

When it does, that necklace is going to bind a powerful spatial dimension directly to her soul. It's a magic pocket space where she can store infinite food, fresh water, and weapons. Because of that necklace, Maya Bellini becomes a god among men. She becomes the ultimate protagonist of the early apocalypse, leading everyone else while they beg her for scraps of bread.

"Not this time," I murmured, a slow, sharp smile spreading across my lips.

I have absolutely no interest in being anyone's protagonist. I don't want to save the world, and I certainly don't want to lead a group of useless cowards who will tie me to a pole the second things get tough. I just want to survive on my own terms. I want to live, with no one to boss me around, no one to demand my loyalty, and no one to sacrifice me when it becomes convenient for them.

I stepped back from the window. I watched the happy family below and let out a quiet breath.

The necklace will be hers.