CHAPTER 2

The first thing I did was check the news.

The hospital incident had already attracted hundreds of comments. Some people blamed drugs, while others claimed the patient had a mental illness. A few witnesses insisted that something was wrong with him, but nobody seemed willing to take their words seriously.

I knew better.

In my previous life, I had watched the infection spread from one hospital to another. At first, the authorities insisted everything was under control. By the time they admitted otherwise, people were already dying in the streets.

I closed the article and opened my banking application.

My savings balance appeared on the screen.

₦3,850,000.

I stared at the figure for a moment.

That money represented years of careful saving, sacrifices, and plans for my future. Before the apocalypse, I had intended to use part of it for my wedding and keep the rest for emergencies.

Daniel had always encouraged me to save, although he somehow never had enough money whenever an important expense appeared.

In my previous life, I had spent most of those savings helping us survive.

This time, I would spend the money on myself.

I transferred a portion into another account and left enough for ordinary expenses. Then I opened my notes application and began listing everything I would need.

Drinking water. Canned food. Rice. Beans. Cooking oil. Salt. First-aid supplies. Prescription medicines where legally available. Soap. Disinfectant. Batteries. Flashlights. A portable radio.

I also needed sturdy shoes, warm clothes, a power bank, and a reliable way to cook if electricity became unavailable.

My first mistake in the previous life had been assuming that I could purchase whatever I needed after the disaster began.

When panic spread, supermarkets emptied within hours. People fought over bottled water. Pharmacies ran out of essential supplies. Even ordinary things became difficult to find.

I wouldn't make that mistake again.

After getting dressed, I collected my handbag and checked the time.

8:17 a.m.

I had already lost almost an hour trying to understand what had happened to me.

There was no time to waste.

Before leaving, I walked through my apartment and examined every window and door. The building wasn't particularly secure, and my second-floor room had a balcony that could be accessed from the neighboring apartment.

I made a note to address that problem.

My apartment could serve as a temporary base, but I needed somewhere safer.

I locked the door and headed downstairs.

The morning looked painfully ordinary.

A woman argued with a roadside vendor over the price of tomatoes. Two schoolchildren hurried past me, laughing about something on one of their phones. A bus conductor shouted his destination while passengers squeezed into the vehicle.

Nobody knew what was coming.

I wondered how many of these people would still be alive a month from now.

The thought made me uncomfortable, so I pushed it aside.

I couldn't save everyone. I barely knew how to save myself.

My first stop was a wholesale store.

I bought bags of rice and beans, cartons of canned food, cooking oil, bottled water, and other necessities. I deliberately avoided purchasing everything from one shop because I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention.

At the pharmacy, I purchased basic first-aid supplies, bandages, antiseptic, pain relief, and other ordinary over-the-counter essentials. I also bought soap, gloves, and disinfectant.

The pharmacist looked at the growing collection on the counter.

"Are you preparing for a trip?"

"Something like that," I replied.

He laughed. "You must be expecting a long one."

I smiled politely.

If only he knew.

By midday, I had visited several stores. My arms ached, my feet hurt, and I had spent more money than I intended.

When I checked my list, I realized I had forgotten batteries.

I stood outside the shop, staring at the paper.

In my previous life, I had imagined that knowing the future would make everything easy. I hadn't considered how difficult it would be to prepare for a disaster while pretending to live an ordinary life.

I was tired, hungry, and beginning to panic.

I bought a bottle of water and sat on a nearby bench.

One problem remained: where would I keep everything?

My apartment wasn't suitable for long-term survival. The neighborhood was crowded, the roads were narrow, and the building had no backup power or independent water supply.

I needed a secure property with a reliable water source, good ventilation, and enough room to store supplies.

Preferably somewhere away from crowded residential areas.

I opened a property website and began searching.

Most of the listings were too expensive, too exposed, or too far from essential services. I couldn't afford to spend all my money on a property when I still needed supplies and emergency funds.

Then I found a small house on the outskirts of the city.

It had a perimeter wall, a private water tank, a modest yard, and metal gates. The house wasn't luxurious, but the photographs suggested it was in reasonable condition.

The rent was expensive enough to hurt.

I contacted the agent.

He replied almost immediately and offered to arrange an inspection that afternoon.

I agreed.

As I stood up, my phone began ringing.

Daniel.

I stared at his name.

For several seconds, I considered ignoring the call. Then I remembered that we were still engaged, and suddenly disappearing from his life without explanation might raise questions I wasn't prepared to answer.

I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Elena, where are you?"

His voice was familiar enough to make my chest tighten.

"I'm out."

"Out where?"

I closed my eyes briefly.

There it was. The same controlling tone I remembered.

"I'm running some errands, Daniel. Is something wrong?"

"No. I called you this morning, but you didn't answer."

"I was busy."

He sighed.

"Anyway, I need you to transfer some money to me. There's an issue with my car, and I need to sort it out before the weekend."

I almost laughed.

Even now, before the world had ended, he was asking me for money.

In my previous life, I would have asked how much he needed and transferred it without hesitation.

Not anymore.

"How much?" I asked.

"About two hundred thousand naira. I'll pay you back."

"When?"

There was a pause.

"What do you mean, when?"

"When will you pay me back?"

He laughed as though I had made a joke.

"Elena, we're getting married. Why are you talking to me like a bank?"

My grip tightened around the phone.

Because I had died for trusting you, I thought.

Instead, I said, "I have expenses of my own right now. I can't send you anything."

Silence followed.

Then his voice changed.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"What's gotten into you lately?"

"Nothing, Daniel. I just can't afford it."

I ended the call before he could argue.

My heart was beating too quickly.

Refusing him shouldn't have felt so difficult, but it did. A part of me still remembered the woman I had been before the apocalypse, the woman who thought keeping Daniel happy was part of her responsibility.

I took a deep breath and put my phone away.

That life was over.

I had to keep reminding myself.

By late afternoon, I arrived at the property.

The agent met me at the gate and showed me around. The house was smaller than I had imagined, and the kitchen needed repairs. One bedroom had a damaged window, and the water tank wasn't as large as the advertisement suggested.

Still, the property had potential.

"Can the owner make the repairs before I move in?" I asked.

"We can discuss that. But there are other people interested."

I looked at the high wall surrounding the property.

It wasn't perfect, but it was better than my apartment.

"I'll take it," I said, subject to confirming the documents and agreeing on the repairs.

We began discussing the payment and the tenancy agreement.

While the agent spoke, I noticed something across the road.

A black SUV was parked beside a closed shop.

A man stood near the driver's door, watching the property.

When our eyes met, he looked away and entered the vehicle.

I couldn't see his face clearly through the tinted windows.

Perhaps he was another prospective tenant.

Perhaps I was becoming paranoid.

But as the SUV pulled away, I remembered something from my previous life.

Three days before the apocalypse, I had seen a similar vehicle outside a hospital.

The next morning, the hospital had been sealed off.

I turned back toward the house.

For the first time since waking up, I wondered whether my memories were enough to save me.

Because the world was already changing.

And I wasn't the only person who seemed to know it.