Chapter 5

Leoras pov

“Adrian?”

The name slipped out before I could stop myself.

He stared at me without a trace of the warmth I remembered. The man who had once looked at me as though I were the only woman in the world he loved, down-to-earth, now regarded me like a stranger who had inconvenienced him.

“Don’t call me that like we’re old friends.” He picked up his mask. “Where are the cartons?”

My chest tightened.

Three years ago, Adrian had begged me not to marry Ken. He had shown up at my apartment in the middle of the night, stood in the rain outside my gate, and asked me to give him one reason to stay away from me.

I’d given him one; I told him I loved Ken.

Then I’d watched Adrian walk away, believing I would never see him again; now he was standing in my bedroom, armed and demanding answers.

“I told you, I don’t have your cartons.” I pressed my lips together.

I didn’t expect a good guy like him who had been so full of life to become a criminal… such a pity.

He stepped closer. “I’m running out of patience, Leora.”

“And I’m running out of reasons to tolerate you breaking into my house!” I clapped back, keeping some distance.

His expression didn’t change. “Do you want to find out what happens when I run out of patience?”

My gaze dropped to the gun at his waist.

The Adrian I remembered would have rather cut off his own hand than threaten me.

This man looked as though he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

“What happened to you?” I whispered.

“That’s none of your business.”

The words hurt more than they should have. I swallowed the ache and lifted my chin. “Fine. I’ll show you where the cartons are.”

He studied me suspiciously. “Try anything, and you’ll regret it.”

“Believe me, Adrian, you’re not the only one having a terrible night.” I rolled my eyes, pressing my lips lightly.

He pulled a pair of restraints from his pocket and secured my wrists behind my back.

“You’re taking me hostage now?” I demanded.

“Would you prefer I leave you here to call the police?”

I glared at him.

He picked up his gun and motioned toward the door.

“Move.”

I had little choice but to obey.

Outside, he forced me into the passenger seat of his black SUV. He secured my wrists to a metal loop beside the seat, then climbed behind the wheel.

“Drive carefully,” I muttered. “I’d hate for you to crash before you recover your precious cartons.”

He ignored me.

The drive to the bunker felt endless. Every few minutes, I glanced at him, hoping to find some trace of the man I had once loved.

There was nothing.

“Why are you looking at me?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.

“I’m wondering how someone who used to bring me breakfast every morning became a kidnapper.”

His jaw tightened.

“You made your choice, Leora; you don’t get to question what I became afterward.” His voice was cold.

I looked away.

He was right about one thing. I had made my choice. But I had never imagined that one day I would sit beside Adrian with my hands bound, wondering whether he would shoot me over a shipment of sedatives.

When we arrived, he dragged me out of the vehicle and marched me toward the bunker entrance.

I activated the door through my system.

The entrance opened.

“Inside,” he ordered.

I stepped into the storage area, my heart pounding as I prepared to face the consequences of my decision to conceal the shipment.

It’s not like I needed it anyway.

But the moment we entered, I stopped.

The room was empty.

Not a single carton remained.

H-how?

I stared at the bare floor, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

“No.”

Adrian shoved past me and searched the corners. He opened the adjoining storage room, checked behind the shelves, and returned with fury written across his face.

“Where are they?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know!”

“You expect me to believe that?” He asked.

“Look around! Do you see anything?” I screamed

He grabbed my arm. “You brought me here because you claimed the cartons were here.”

“They were!” I screamed again.

“Then where the hell are they?”

“I don’t know!” My voice cracked. “Someone must have stolen them!”

He laughed bitterly. “You expect me to believe someone broke into a secure bunker, stole hundreds of cartons, and left without you noticing?”

I stared at the empty room; he was right. It made no sense.

My system had never reported an intrusion. There had been no warning, no notification, no indication that anyone had accessed my storage.

System where the hell are you?

How could someone steal everything right under my nose?

“Check your phone,” Adrian ordered.

“What?”

“Call whoever took them, tell them to return my property.”

“I don’t have anyone to call!”

His hand moved toward his gun. “Don’t test me, Leora.”

I stared at him, trembling with anger and fear.

Then a notification flashed before my eyes.

[Ding!]

I froze.

[EMERGENCY WARNING.]

[The first signs of the global catastrophe have been detected.]

My blood ran cold.

No.

It couldn’t be happening already.

[Confirmed: The global outbreak has begun.]

A deafening crash erupted outside.

The bunker shook, and I stumbled as another impact rattled the walls. Car horns blared in the distance, followed by screams that sent ice through my veins.

Adrian immediately drew his gun.

“What the hell is happening?”

I rushed toward the entrance, but he caught me by the arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let me go!” I struggled against him. “We need to get out!”

“Not until you explain what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time to explain!”

Another scream pierced the air.

I twisted toward the entrance and saw a man stumbling across the road outside. Something lunged at him from behind a wrecked car.

The creature looked human, but its skin was gray, its mouth hung open, and blood covered its chin.

It seized the man by the neck.

He screamed once before the creature tore into him.

My jaw dropped.

Zombies.

They were here.

The world was ending, and I wasn’t ready.

“Adrian, untie me!” I pleaded, pulling against the restraints. “Please! We have to leave!”

He glanced outside, his expression hardening as he witnessed the creature dragging its victim into the street.

For one brief moment, I thought he would listen.

Instead, he tightened his grip on my arm.

“Not until you tell me what you know.”

“People are dying!”

“And I want answers!” he shouted. “Where the hell are my goods?”

A crash sounded behind us.

I turned.

Something had entered the bunker entrance.

A gray hand curled around the doorway, followed by a bloodied face.

Its dead eyes fixed on me.

I couldn’t breathe.

The zombie lunged.