Chapter 4:

By the time I returned to my grandmother’s estate for the fourth time that day, exhaustion had settled deep into my bones. My lower back ached from hours of lifting and carrying supplies, and even turning the steering wheel had become uncomfortable. It was nearly eleven at night, and the forest surrounding the property was swallowed in darkness. The cold autumn air carried the damp, earthy smell of fallen leaves as I guided my loaded sedan up the overgrown driveway and brought it to a stop near the back porch.

I switched off the headlights and sat there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. The silence was almost unsettling after spending the entire day moving between busy stores and crowded parking lots. All I could hear was the faint rustling of leaves and the steady thumping of my heart. I was exhausted, hungry, and desperate to get some sleep, but there was still one last load to bring inside.

I opened the driver's door and stepped onto the cold grass before walking around to the trunk. Inside were several heavy wooden crates filled with canned meat, medical supplies, and bottles of iodine that I'd purchased from a private liquidator during my final stop of the evening. Each crate weighed at least sixty pounds, and looking at them made my already aching back protest. Unfortunately, leaving them in the car overnight wasn't an option. I had no idea what the temperature might do to some of the supplies, and I didn't want anything sitting outside where it could be seen from the road.

Gripping the first crate with both hands, I lifted it out of the trunk and held it against my chest. The weight nearly forced me to stagger, but I managed to steady myself and carry it toward the back porch. The wooden steps creaked beneath my feet as I climbed them, and I nudged the heavy oak door open with my hip before making my way into the kitchen. My destination was the narrow door leading down to the cellar, where I'd been storing everything I'd bought throughout the day.

By the time I reached it, my arms were trembling. I tried to adjust my grip on the rough pine edges of the crate, but my fingers were too tired to hold it properly.

"Dammit!" I gasped.

The crate slipped forward just as my foot caught the edge of the cellar doorframe. I lost my balance and crashed onto my knees against the hardwood floor. The box landed beside me with a loud crack, its wooden sides splitting apart as cans and glass medicine bottles scattered across the floorboards.

"Shit. Shit!" I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut as frustration rose in my throat. I'd spent the entire day working myself to the point of exhaustion, and now I had to clean up this mess before I could even think about resting.

A sharp, throbbing pain spread through my knees, but I forced myself to sit up. After wiping the sweat from my forehead, I looked at the scattered supplies and let out a tired sigh. There was no point sitting on the floor feeling sorry for myself. I needed to pick everything up, check that the glass bottles hadn't broken, and get the remaining crates into the cellar.

I reached for an intact, sealed crate lying on its side a short distance away. My hand settled against the rough wooden surface, and I prepared to drag it closer so I wouldn't have to struggle to lift it again. But the moment I concentrated on moving it, something strange happened.

A cold, prickling sensation ran from my shoulder down my arm and into my fingertips. It felt almost like an electric current passing through my body, except there was no pain. Before I could figure out what was happening, the air in front of me seemed to ripple.

Fwip.

The crate disappeared.

I stared at the empty space where it had been, my hand still stretched out as though I were waiting for it to reappear. For several seconds, I couldn't even move. I had been exhausted a moment ago, but suddenly I was wide awake, staring at the floor in disbelief.

"What...?"

The word came out as little more than a whisper. I scrambled backward, nearly slipping on one of the scattered cans. My gaze darted around the kitchen, searching for some explanation, but there was nowhere the crate could have gone. It hadn't rolled away, fallen through the floor, or been carried off by someone. It had simply vanished while my hand was resting against it.

"Where did it go?" I whispered, looking around again. "Did I... did I somehow lose it?"

My right palm felt strangely warm. I turned my hand over, rubbing my thumb against the center of it, and then closed my eyes. I wasn't sure why I did it. Perhaps I was trying to calm myself down, or maybe some part of me already knew what to do. Whatever the reason, the moment I concentrated, I became aware of something that shouldn't have been possible.

There was a vast, dark space just beyond my ordinary senses. I couldn't see it with my eyes, yet I knew it was there, stretching farther than I could comprehend. And inside that strange, boundless space sat the missing wooden crate, completely intact.

My eyes flew open.

"No way."

I stared at the empty patch of floor, then closed my eyes again and focused on the crate. I could sense it as clearly as if I were standing beside it. Without knowing how I understood what to do, I directed my thoughts toward bringing it back.

Fwip.

A faint gust stirred the air, and the crate reappeared on the floor exactly where it had been before.

I forgot about my aching knees. I forgot about the scattered cans and the broken wooden box. All I could do was stare at the crate, trying to make sense of what I'd just witnessed. Then, slowly, I reached for a small glass bottle of iodine lying beside my foot.

"Store," I whispered.

The bottle disappeared from my hand immediately.

My breath caught. I focused on that strange space again, found the bottle inside it, and thought about bringing it back.

"Recall."

The bottle appeared in my palm.

I turned it over several times, checking that it was real before setting it down and repeating the process. Each time, the result was the same. I could put an object into that space and bring it back whenever I wanted, without touching it again or making any physical effort beyond concentrating. The sensation was unfamiliar, but the ability itself felt surprisingly easy to use, as though I'd somehow known how to do it all along.

A spatial ability.

The thought struck me so suddenly that I stopped moving. In my previous life, I'd heard countless stories about people who awakened extraordinary powers after the red rain. Some could manipulate the elements, others developed strength or speed far beyond normal human limits, and a rare few possessed spatial abilities that allowed them to store objects in dimensions beyond the physical world.

I'd never imagined I could have such an ability myself, let alone awaken it before the apocalypse.

I pushed myself to my feet and hurried outside, ignoring the soreness in my knees. My sedan was parked near the porch, its trunk still filled with the remaining crates. I lifted the trunk lid and stared at the supplies, hardly daring to believe that the same thing might work on a much larger scale.

Placing both hands against the inner lining of the trunk, I focused on the crates and gave the command in my mind.

Store all.

Everything vanished in an instant. I stood motionless, staring into the empty trunk. A few seconds passed before I leaned forward to make sure I hadn't imagined it. The crates were gone, but when I closed my eyes, I could sense them inside that dark space, neatly arranged as though someone had carefully stacked them there.

A laugh escaped me. I couldn't help it. After an entire day of exhausting myself carrying supplies from one place to another, I had stumbled upon the one thing that could make all my preparations easier.

I no longer had to worry about the cellar running out of room. I wouldn't need to leave crates of food and medicine lying around the house, where anyone who broke in could discover them. I could carry everything I owned without loading a single bag onto my back, and if I ever had to abandon the estate, I could take my entire stockpile with me.

More importantly, nobody would know what I was carrying. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, my hands were empty.

I closed the trunk and looked toward the dark stretch of forest beyond the house. Only a few hours earlier, I'd been sitting in my car worrying about how I could possibly store enough supplies to survive the apocalypse. Now, that problem had practically disappeared. I still needed to secure the property, gather weapons, and prepare for the dangers I remembered, but I finally had an advantage I hadn't possessed in my previous life.

I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers as I tried to absorb what had happened. The red rain was still weeks away, and yet I'd already awakened an ability that most survivors wouldn't discover until after the world fell apart.

For the first time since waking up in the past, I felt something stronger than fear or desperation. I felt hopeful.

I lifted my gaze to the clear night sky and curled my hands into fists. I had thirty days to prepare, a safe house to secure, and now a spatial ability that could help me carry everything I needed. I wasn't going to spend this second chance merely hiding from the apocalypse.

This time, I was going to be ready for it.