Chapter 1: REBORN

The world had already ended - Sharon knew that long before the sky turned black

Smoke clung to the sky like dirty fingers; flames licked at shop facades to either side, and the rain refused to put them out,

Sticking to Sharon's skin as she ran with dry skin and blood oozing from a ripped shoulder. One hand gripping a strap that wasn't there.

From behind she heard the growls; dozens; perhaps hundreds, flowing like a river along the ruin avenue

"Michael!"

Her voice was a raw croak as she stumbled backwards, and turned to the sound. Across the street, a couple of shops away, stood her husband. Beside an abandoned van, it's doors hanging loosely on their hinges, Michael held their backpack. The one filled with the last four bottles of water, the antibiotics Sharon had bartered her mother's necklace for, the canned food she had carried for two agonizing days, the painkillers she'd saved.

Sharon's eyes widened as he looked up at the sound of her voice.

"Michael, wait!"

He looked her up and down, and it would have broken her to realize she looked like a ghost if not for the way he gripped tighter to the bag and took a step back.

Beside him stood Lisa.

Her best friend for eight years stood in Sharon's old thick waterproof jacket Sharon had gifted her two days ago because Lisa complained she was cold. Her nose was red, eyes puffy- the perfect, practiced look of someone feigning contrition.

"Michael," Sharon whined, because shrieking was too much effort, "Please."

Those growls were getting louder now; Sharon could hear the slosh of wet feet against the road.

Michael cast a glance over his shoulder and then back at the girl who had, up until two hours ago, been his best friend.

"Michael!" she screamed.

He looked to her, finally, as if asking permission.

"Michael!" she pleaded.

After a beat, he gave her a flat, even look like he was appraising something nasty and unwanted, and spoke.

"Sharon, don't blame me. Lisa needs me more, you're slow since your leg injury."

Lisa looked down, and gave a practiced sob.

"I'm sorry Sharon."

"We didn't mean for you to find out like this"

It all clicked in that moment; the secret meetings behind the supermarket, the strange absences of water, the way his phone had always faced down, the way she was always there in the wake of every row. They'd already betrayed her, before the end of the world. The end of the world was a convenient excuse to sever her from prying eyes.

"After everything I did for you?" Sharon rasped, tears mixing with the rain, "You would hold me back."

All emotion drained from Michael's face.

"You will only hold us back."

He opened the van door, and Sharon lunged forward. An infected, shirt intact from the office, crashed into her back, sending her sprawling over the wet tarmac and sending all the air from her lungs. Automatically she flung out a hand, grasping at his foot as their eyes locked. He had three seconds. Three seconds to decide between his wife and the man he thought was his best friend. Three seconds to choose whether he remembered their five year marriage or who he wanted to survive with in this new world. He could have easily pulled her up, lifted her in, and he had the strength to do so, seeing the pleading in her eyes as she watched him crawl back on his knees. He didn't.

He slid into the van.

"Michael!"

The van roared to life, tires screeching across wet ash, and with it went Sharon's hopes. Escaping into the smoke, her jacket, her food, her husband, gone with it.

Sharon woke up gasping, so loud she startled herself.

She sat up so fast the blanket flew from off her lap; her heart beat in her ears, her throat. She blinked away the darkness, and stared up at a ceiling. Pale gray curtains she'd bought on sale, a wall not charred or blackened. Only a faint smell of laundry detergent in the air. No blood, no smoke, no screams. The sound of a peaceful morning outside the window.

She looked at her hands, marveled at the lack of dirt, the neat little clumps not under her fingernails. Her shoulder didn't sting as she moved her hands over her face. No jagged, thin piece of scar tissue along her cheek bone.

"No.." she whispered.

She threw herself off the bed, her legs shaking as she stumbled over to the mirror. The woman staring back was young, perhaps late twenties, healthy, the kind of age when you still have all your teeth. Her hair was long, dark, falling to her waist, untouched by the infected who once threatened to tear it out.

But she was alive.

Her phone rang out in her hand; Sharon nearly dropped it.

November 2. 08:14 AM.

Her pulse stuttered in her throat as her eyes locked on the date. Absently she tapped the icon on her screen. November 2nd. Exactly thirty days before the first reports of infection had aired on the news, thirty days before hospitals became full, thirty days before the world ended.

She had returned. Not a year or ten; just enough to change things.

A strange laugh escaped her lips, half a sob, half a giggle. Her hand flew to her mouth as tears streaked down her face.

She had another chance, not to save her marriage or her friendships, but herself. She would need real things this time, food that wouldn't expire, water by the pallet, medicine, fuel, generators, something that wouldn't rely on electric. Most importantly a safe place that wasn't in the city. And money. A lot of money.

Her phone vibrated in her palm.

Michael 

Sharon gaped at the name on the screen, at the heart she'd stupidly added two years ago. In her previous life that name would have made her smile, now her stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Sharon? I've been calling you all morning." He paused, obviously peering at his phone in confusion. Then, "You didn't pick up. Lisa isn't feeling well. Would you be able to take her to the hospital?"

Even now. Even thirty frickin' days before the end of the world and he was already worrying about her over other people.

"I have something else to do," she said grimly.

"What?"

"Getting divorced."

There was a pause (a scoff, perhaps) before he muttered, "What's with the sudden lurch? This a joke?"

She didn't answer. Switched off the phone instead. Her hands were steady, calmer than they'd been in years.

She walked to her desk and opened the bottom drawer, tax documents spilling out onto the floor. Beneath them, a manila envelope hidden out of view. Divorce papers- prepared eight months ago but never filed. She remembered in her other life begging him to stay, this time she signed her name without hesitation, making sure a clean, sharp line across the paper.

The moment her pen left the parchment a chime sounded in her ear, not in the room but in her head.

[Ding! Host detected. Spatial Storage System activating.]

Her eyes widened as a translucent blue box appeared before her.

[Congratulations, Sharon. You have awakened the Spatial Storage System. Capacity: Unlimited. Time inside: Frozen. No decay.]

No decay. Her medicine wouldn't lose potency in this, the food wouldn't rot.

[Would the host like to bind the system? This is permanent.]

"Yes. Bind."

[Binding successful. You have 30 days until the world event.]

Sharon closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of the endless, vast emptiness inside her, a warehouse as big as a house, stretching into infinity as far as she could see.

Her lips parted in a slow, real smile.

Thirty days, when the world came to a point of no return, would not be spent as the woman in the rain begging. Would not be spent with a bleeding shoulder and a husband who chose Lisa over her.

Would not be spent with tears rolling down her cheeks because the world was ending.

She opened up her banking app, already calculating.

"Let's see how many things I can get my hands on before the world ends."

Just under her balance, a new notification slid up on her screen from an unknown number.

You shouldn't trust anyone this time either, not even the system.

Her finger hovered over the notification, her grin twitching. Someone else knew, somehow. Someone else knew about the system as well.