CHAPTER 9 - How Did You Know?

"Felicity, listen to me—"

"You didn't call out of care," Felicity continued, stepping toward her van's open window and looking out into the dark, quiet forest. "You called because neither you nor Mack know how to handle real work. You want me in that house so I can do the cooking, clean up your mess, manage your food, and keep guard while you two hide upstairs."

Phoebe let out a sharp, choked gasp. 

"W-What are you talking about?! We're family! You're the capable one, Felicity! You're supposed to help us!”

"You chose the house, Phoebe," Felicity sneered, her eyes gleaming with icy satisfaction. "You begged for it. You wanted that big two-story home so badly, so go enjoy it. Cook your own meals. Clean your own space. Protect your own life. Because I am never, ever coming to save you."

"Wait! Felicity, don't hang up! FELICITY—"

Felicity pressed the red button, cutting Phoebe's shrieks off mid-sentence.

Without missing a beat, she blocked Phoebe's number right next to Mack's, tossed the phone onto her bed, and let out a long, quiet breath.

"That sounded delightfully harsh," a smooth, dark voice purred from outside.

Felicity looked out the window.

Tristan was leaning against the side of his black van, holding his mug of coffee in one hand while casually flipping a knife with the other. 

A wide, dangerous smirk stretched across his handsome face as his dark eyes locked onto hers in the moonlight.

"So," Tristan murmured, taking a slow sip. "Now that you've officially dumped the dead weight... ready to plan our next move?"

Felicity looked at him through the narrow window frame, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his expression.

‘Why is he grinning so wide?’

Tristan was practically beaming, his dark eyes sparkling with unhidden amusement in the dim moonlight. 

He looked like a cat that had just caught the golden canary, thoroughly enjoying her ruthless phone execution.

"What are you smiling like that for?" Felicity asked, her voice dry.

Tristan lowered his mug, looking down at the dark liquid inside with a dramatic sigh. 

"Well, for starters, my coffee got completely cold while I was out here listening to you handle your business. Cold black coffee is a crime."

He looked back up at her, his lips curving into an easy, inviting smile. 

"How about we brew a fresh pot? You come outside, stretch your legs, and we actually drink together this time."

Felicity hesitated, glancing back at the quiet, cozy interior of her van before turning her attention back to the dark forest around them. 

It was a clear, quiet night, but being outdoors required vigilance.

"Fine," Felicity agreed. "I'll come out."

Tristan’s grin softened into a satisfied smile.

 "Give me two minutes."

While Tristan turned back to his van, Felicity walked over to her built-in storage cabinets. 

She opened a top drawer and pulled out a sleek, military-grade thermal drone controller paired with an ultra-quiet reconnaissance drone, one of the high-end pieces of gear she had bought during her supply sweeps.

She powered it on, hit the automatic launch button, and guided the small device out through her roof vent. 

The drone's whisper-quiet rotors hummed softly as it lifted fifty feet into the night sky, hovering right above their forest clearing.

Felicity tapped the controller screen, switching the camera view to wide-angle thermal imaging.

The glowing display showed the surrounding forest in crisp shades of cool blue and grey. 

Aside from a few small, harmless orange heat signatures belonging to squirrels and wild birds resting in the pine trees, the entire perimeter was completely clear. 

No irregular heat blobs, no wandering human figures, and no signs of the dead.

Satisfied that their location was ninety-nine percent secure, she slid the controller into her cargo pocket and unlatched her heavy van door.

She stepped down onto the cool grass, the fresh night air hitting her face.

Tristan had already set up camp in the small space between their parked vehicles.

He had pulled a heavy-duty, fold-out aluminum camping table and two sturdy, cushioned folding chairs from his van's side compartment. 

A small, portable electric kettle sat in the middle of the table, humming softly as it brought clean water to a quiet boil.

"Not bad, right?" Tristan said, pulling out a chair for her with a flourish. "Always come prepared."

Felicity shook her head with a faint, amused breath as she sat down, crossing one leg over the other. 

"You brought a whole outdoor patio setup to an apocalypse."

"Comfort is key, Procurement Manager," Tristan replied smoothly, sitting down across from her. 

He reached for two clean ceramic mugs, pouring the fresh, steaming water over freshly ground coffee beans. 

"If the world is going to end, we might as well watch it comfortably."

He handed her a mug, the warm ceramic heating her fingers against the chilly night breeze.

Felicity took a small sip, letting the rich, bitter flavor settle on her tongue. 

Across the table, Tristan leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on her face with that quiet, intense focus that always made her skin tingle.

Out in the distance, far beyond the dark tree line, the faint sky above the city center glowed a bruised, unnatural orange from burning fires. 

But here in the quiet forest, sitting under the stars, peace reigned.

Felicity took another slow sip from her mug, the warm steam rising into the crisp forest air. 

Her eyes drifted from the burning orange glow hovering over the distant city skyline back to the man sitting across from her.

A sharp, lingering question nagged at the back of her mind.

‘How did Tristan know?’

She had used her rebirth, the bitter memories of her past life, to prepare for the end of the world. 

But Tristan? 

He hadn't been reborn. He didn't have a magical domain, nor did he have a second chance at life.

Yet, he had shown up at the underground armory in a custom-armored twin van, packed to the brim with supplies he had cleared out from two south-side distribution hubs.

He hadn't just followed her; he had anticipated this exact scenario with frightening precision.

Felicity set her mug down on the aluminum table.

Clink.

She leaned forward, crossing her arms over the table as her sharp gaze locked directly onto his.

"Tristan," she said, her voice dropping into a smooth, probing tone. "How did you know?"

Tristan tilted his head, a playful spark dancing in his dark eyes as he leaned back in his chair. 

"Know about what? How good you look in tactical gear, or how to make a proper cup of coffee?"

"Don't dodge the question," Felicity replied, not breaking eye contact. "You didn't just happen to build a reinforced twin van, stock it with months of rations, and buy military-grade gear on the exact night the world collapsed. You knew the outbreak was coming. How?"