Chapter 07

"...Health officials are asking everyone to stay calm. This flu is strong, but it is not dangerous for healthy adults. Please wash your hands and..."

I turned off the car radio and stared out the windshield.

People on the sidewalk hurried past with masks on their faces. A man in a suit coughed so hard he had to stop and lean against a lamp post. A mother pulled her little boy closer and walked faster.

*It's not just the flu.*

I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

*It's the opening act of the apocalypse.*

In my past life, I remembered every step of it. First came the coughing. Then the fevers that wouldn't break. The hospitals filled up so fast that people were sleeping in the hallways.

Two weeks after the outbreak, the dead started getting back up.

I closed my eyes. I could still hear the screaming in my memory. I could still see the blood on the walls of our apartment building.

*Back then, I risked my life for my family. I went out every day to find food for them. I fought zombies with a kitchen knife so they could eat.*

*And they used me until I was no longer useful. Then they threw me away.*

I opened my eyes again. My face felt cold and hard.

"I won't be a fool again," I whispered.

Maple pushed her nose between the seats and rested it on my shoulder. I reached back and scratched her ear.

"Don't worry, girl. This time, we're ready."

I pulled out the business card Rick had given me and dialed the number.

It rang three times before a rough voice answered.

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"Hello," I said. "Rick from Allegheny Power Equipment sent me. He said you sell diesel."

"Rick sent you, huh?" The man's voice relaxed a little. "Name's Duane. Three Rivers Fuel. What do you need?"

"How much diesel do you have?"

Duane laughed. "How much do you want?"

"All of it."

There was a long pause on the line.

"I'm sorry," Duane said slowly. "Did you just say *all* of it?"

"Yes. Every drop you have. Deliver it to my warehouse tomorrow." I gave him the address of Mrs. Garrity's farm.

Duane whistled. "Well, look at you, big spender. Listen, lady, we've got plenty in stock. Tankers full of it. If you take it all, I'll give you a huge discount, bigger than Rick's fifteen percent. Maybe we can even talk about a long-term deal, you know, every month—"

"Cut the chatter," I said.

Duane went quiet.

"Just send the goods over tomorrow morning," I said. "I'll wire you the deposit right now."

"Uh... yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am."

I hung up, opened my bank app, and sent the deposit.

---

By the end of the day, I sat in the farmhouse kitchen with a cup of coffee and my phone. The sun had gone down hours ago. Maple lay asleep by the door, snoring softly.

I scrolled through my payments.

Diesel from Three Rivers Fuel. Medical supplies from a warehouse in Ohio. Two trucks of bottled water. Hundreds of boxes of batteries. Steel sheets and building tools for the tunnel.

I added it all up.

*Even with the discount, I spent almost one point nine million dollars today.*

I let out a long breath. A few weeks ago, that amount of money would have scared me to death.

Now it didn't matter at all.

*In two weeks, money will just be paper. People will burn it to stay warm. But these supplies are my lifeline. They are what will keep me alive in the apocalypse.*

I put down my cup and opened my social media app. The first post at the top of my screen made me stop.

It was from Trent.

He had posted a picture of himself and Kelsey standing in front of my apartment building downtown. They both had big smiles on their faces. Kelsey was holding up a shiny new set of keys.

*New home, new life! Moving in this weekend. Blessed!*

Under it, Lorraine had commented with three heart emojis. Grandma had written, *So proud of my boy!*

I stared at the picture for a long time.

They don't know about the bank loan yet. They don't know that in a few days, the bank will come to take that apartment away. They don't know that their savings are gone, that their home is a shell, and that the world is about to end.

A slow smile spread across my lips.

"Trent, dear brother," I said softly, "enjoy your final moments of comfort."

I tapped his name and pressed call.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Four.

Beep.

"Hey, it's Trent. Leave a message."

I leaned back in my chair and smiled.

"Okay," I said sweetly. "You're not there."