CHAPTER 3 — THREE HOURS BEFORE THE APOCALYPSE

If you ever find yourself with precisely one hundred and eighty minutes before the collapse of human civilization, I highly recommend skipping the existential crisis and going straight to grand theft pharmaceutical.

I slammed my red Hyundai Elantra into park directly outside the sleek, glass-and-steel monolith known as Apex Bio-Tech. The building looked ridiculously innocent in the morning sunlight, complete with manicured lawns and a cheerful fountain. Nobody walking past had any idea that inside Sector 7, scientists were playing genetic roulette with human survival.

I checked my phone.

9:12 AM.

"Two hours and forty-eight minutes," I muttered, grabbing my heavy leather bag, a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters I’d pinched from my landlord's toolbox, and my absolute favorite claw hammer. "Time to go shopping."

I bypassed the fancy revolving glass doors at the front entrance. Front doors are for people with appointments, security badges, and an appreciation for authority. Instead, I sprinted around the back toward the underground loading dock, where a heavy-set security guard was currently leaning against a concrete pillar, happily munching on a jelly donut.

"Excuse me, sir!" I shouted, putting on my absolute best impression of a panicked, hyperventilating college student. "There's a dog in the front parking lot! A very cute, slightly lost golden retriever! I think it has a purse!"

The guard blinked, wiping powdered sugar off his chin. "A purse?"

"A tiny leather purse!" I gasped, grabbing his arm and pulling him roughly three feet toward the front corner. "It looks very expensive and emotionally distressed! You have to check!"

"A dog with a purse..." the guard mumbled, completely baffled, but his feet took over. "Wait here, miss—"

The moment his back was turned, I ducked under the half-open rolling metal gate of the loading dock, slithered inside, and slid the emergency latch shut behind me.

Step one: Distract the donut enthusiast. Completed.

I pulled out the research binder’s memory notes from my previous life. Sector 7. Sub-level 3. Access code: 8-8-4-1-Star.

The interior of Apex Bio-Tech was like a maze designed by a paranoid architect. White walls, sterile fluorescent lighting, and the strong scent of bleach and overpriced hand sanitizer. Alarm bells hadn't started ringing yet because I hadn't smashed anything expensive... yet.

I took the service stairs down, taking the steps three at a time. Sub-level 1. Sub-level 2.

Sub-level 3.

The heavy steel door at the bottom of the stairwell had a massive red hazard sign and a digital keypad glowing softly in the dim light. I stepped up, punched in

8-8-4-1-*

, and prayed that the Zombie King's memory hadn't been distorted by his gigantic brain spikes.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-CLICK.

The heavy hydraulic lock disengaged with a satisfying, pneumatic hiss. The heavy door swung open, revealing a pristine, high-tech laboratory that looked like the set of a sci-fi movie with a ballooning budget.

"Hello? Anyone home?" I called out, gripping my hammer tightly.

Silence. The laboratory was completely deserted. Automated centrifuges were spinning silently behind glass enclosures, and rows of glowing blue monitors were displaying complex DNA helix strands. The scientists had clearly already abandoned the facility or were locked away in quarantine protocols upstairs.

In the center of the room, sitting inside a reinforced glass vacuum chamber, were three sleek, silver cases labeled in bright hazard-yellow lettering: EVO-GENE ALPHA STRAIN.

"Jackpot," I whispered.

I didn't bother looking for the key or the passcode for the vacuum chamber. I raised my claw hammer and smashed the tempered glass with a glorious, shattering CRASH.

Alarm sirens immediately detonated throughout the underground complex.

WARNING. CONTAINMENT BREACH IN SECTOR 7. SECURITY TEAMS DISPATCHED.

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses, automated automated system," I grunted, reaching into the shattered glass and pulling out one of the metal cases.

I popped the heavy latches. Inside lay six glowing, violet-colored injector vials, neatly cradled in black foam. This was the exact serum that had turned a regular guy into the terrifying, bone-blade-wielding Zombie King. But taken before the airborne viral outbreak hit, it wouldn't turn me into a mindless ghoul. It would give me total cellular dominance.

I pulled out a single vial. The metallic needle looked about four inches long.

"Okay, Lena," I breathed, staring at the sharp point. "You've been bitten by twenty zombies, decapitated by a guy in spandex, and pushed off a staircase by your ex. A tiny needle is nothing."

I jabbed the syringe directly into my thigh muscle and slammed the plunger down.

For three glorious seconds, nothing happened.

"Huh. That wasn't so bad—"

Then, my world exploded into pure, unadulterated fire.

It felt like someone had poured molten lava directly into my bloodstream, mixed it with battery acid, and hit it with a lightning bolt. My knees buckled instantly, and I hit the linoleum floor hard, my hands clutching my chest as every muscle in my body violently contracted at once.

GAAAH! I tried to scream, but only a strangled choke came out.

My skin turned a terrifying, bruised shade of deep purple. Thick, dark veins bulged against my wrists and neck like black cords. My heart was pounding so fast it sounded like a jackhammer inside my chest—TH-TH-TH-THUMP—and then, suddenly, it flatlined entirely.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION INITIATED.

A bright, glowing blue holographic panel snapped open directly in front of my face, hovering in the air like a video game interface.

[Evo-Gene Serum (Alpha Variant) successfully integrated.]

[Host Cellular Structure restructured.]

[Dual Genetic Identity unlocked: Human Form / Evolved Zombie Form.]

[Spatial Storage Inventory Unlocked: 50 Cubic Meters.]

The agonizing pain vanished as abruptly as it had arrived. The dark veins beneath my skin faded, returning my complexion to a healthy, normal color. My heart gave a calm, steady rhythm, resuming its normal beat as if it hadn't just died for five seconds.

I sat up, panting heavily, and stared at the blue floating screen.

"Spatial storage?" I gasped, touching the holographic text with my index finger. My finger passed right through it, but a mental window opened in my mind—a vast, empty, pitch-black pocket dimension roughly the size of a shipping container. "Fifty cubic meters?! Oh, the sheer amount of canned goods I am about to steal!"

I grabbed the remaining five Evo-Gene vials, swept them off the table, and willed them to enter my storage. SWOOSH. The vials vanished from my hand and instantly appeared floating neatly inside the dark dimension in my head.

I checked my phone screen.

9:45 AM.

COUNTDOWN TO SYSTEM INITIATION: 02:15:00.

"Two hours and fifteen minutes," I said, jumping to my feet with a burst of insane energy. I felt lighter, faster, and completely devoid of my usual morning back pain. "Time to go on the ultimate, unhinged shopping spree."

I ran out of the laboratory, navigated the underground halls, and burst back out into the morning sunlight. The security guard was still over by the corner, fruitlessly looking under parked sedans for the golden retriever with the tiny purse.

"Find it yet?" I called out cheerfully as I hopped back into my Elantra.

"Not yet!" he called back, looking thoroughly stressed. "I think it might have boarded a bus!"

"Keep up the good work!" I yelled, slamming the accelerator to the floor.

For the next two hours, I became a whirlwind of consumer chaos.

I drove straight to the largest wholesale mega-store in the district. I didn't bother with a shopping cart. I pushed three massive industrial flatbed carts through the automatic doors, moving through the aisles like a woman possessed.

Bottled water? I grabbed six whole pallets. SWOOSH. Straight into the spatial storage.

Canned tuna, chili, and peaches? Entire display racks vanished into thin air while a confused clerk in the bakery section blinked, trying to figure out if he was having a stroke.

First aid kits, mass quantities of antibiotics, bandages, rubbing alcohol, and painkillers? I cleaned out the pharmacy section, tossing a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills at the terrified pharmacist as I sprinted past.

"Keep the change!" I roared. "Buy silver and non-perishables!"

I hit the hardware store next. I loaded my spatial dimension with two heavy-duty diesel generators, fifty gallons of fuel canisters, three chainsaws, tactical flashlights, lithium batteries, two thousand rounds of heavy zip-ties, reinforced steel door locks, solar panel kits, and a truly impressive array of machetes.

"Are you building a bunker, miss?" the teenage hardware employee asked, staring at the pile of power tools disappearing into the invisible void beside my shoulder.

"I'm redecorating!" I yelled, grabbing a box of industrial crowbars. "Prepare for purple skies!"

By 11:40 AM, my spatial storage was packed to seventy percent capacity. I had enough food, water, medical supplies, and weapons to survive a nuclear winter, let alone a zombie outbreak.

I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building at Grandview Residential Complex with twenty minutes to spare.

I took the elevator up to the third floor—giving a cold, cheerful glare at the exact spot on the stairwell landing where Brenda the zombie was destined to step on my ankles in another timeline.

I unlocked my apartment door, stepped inside, and immediately began transforming my two-bedroom space into an absolute fortress. I dragged heavy oak bookshelves against the windows, installed two reinforced deadbolts on the heavy front door, and prepped my crowbar by the entryway console.

I poured myself a glass of iced tea, sat down on my couch, and placed my phone on the coffee table.

The timer was ticking down its final seconds.

11:59:55...

11:59:56...

11:59:57...

11:59:58...

11:59:59...

12:00:00 PM.

Outside my window, the bright blue afternoon sky turned a violent, bruised shade of deep purple.

The cell phone signal bar on my screen instantly dropped to zero. The lights in my living room flickered twice and died as the power grid collapsed. Down on the street below, screeching tires, crashing metal, and frantic, terrified screaming echoed up into the warm air.

The apocalypse had officially arrived.

I took a slow sip of my iced tea, holding my crowbar comfortably in my lap.

Five seconds later, heavy, frantic fists began slamming wildly against my front door.

"Lena! Lena, open the door!" Ethan’s voice shrieked from the hallway, cracked with hysterical terror. "The people outside are eating each other! Open the door!"

"Please, Lena!" Sera’s whiny voice cried out right beside him. "It's terrifying! Let us in!"

I set my iced tea down on the glass table, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across my face.

"Well, well, well," I whispered, walking slowly toward the door. "Look who showed up right on schedule."