Chapter 3: The Winning Ticket

POV: Avery

"Fourteen, twenty-seven, thirty-three, forty-one, fifty-eight. Mega Ball nine." I read the numbers out loud with my phone shaking in my hand. I was still half asleep, but I woke up fast.

I pulled the ticket from my pocket and checked every digit twice. They matched perfectly. Three hundred and forty million dollars.

I sat on the floor breathing hard. In my last life, I died with nothing, frozen outside a warm cabin while my family laughed. Now I had more money than most people see in ten lifetimes.

The lottery office opened at nine, so I used the two hours to plan. 

The apocalypse would start in eleven days. I needed shelter, heat, food and security, and my small studio couldn't give me any of it.

At the office, the receptionist looked bored until I said the amount. Her eyes went wide. "Please have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly."

Ten minutes later, three officials were checking my ticket and my ID. They said I could take annual payments for thirty years, or a lump sum. "Lump sum," I said without thinking.

"After taxes, that is about two hundred and eight million dollars," one of them said. I nodded, because it was more than enough. They asked if I wanted to go public, but I said no, because I wanted nobody to know.

"Very wise," the woman handling my papers said. "When people know you have money, they come from nowhere asking for help." I already knew exactly who would come asking.

By noon, I walked out with two hundred and eight million dollars in my account. 

A message from the bank came in to confirm it. I stared at the number, and it still didn't feel real.

I took a cab to the industrial area on the east side of town. I had looked up warehouses the night before, and I wanted one with thick walls and a good roof. After twenty minutes, I found one.

It was a concrete warehouse, about ten thousand square feet, with small windows and a flat roof. It was clearly empty, but it looked solid. A sign board at the front had a phone number, so I called it.

Somebody picked up after the third ringingm "Walter speaking, please how may I help you?" A man's voice came through.

"I'm interested in the concrete warehouse on Industrial Drive," I said. "Is it still available?"

"Sure is. It's been two years on the market, so it needs work," he said. "The heater is broken and some windows are cracked. The owner wants three million, but I can get him down to two point five."

"I'll pay three million," I said. "But I need it today." There was silence. 

"Today?” The man asked. “That's not how real estate works. We need inspections, title....."

"It's cash, no mortgage or bank," I said. "This is a straight sale." 

His voice changed at once. "Give me one hour to make calls. Also, come meet me at the property in an hour time."

Walter came exactly an hour later in a nice suit and a nice car. He was in his fifties, balding, with the kind of smile that says the money is good. He opened the door and showed me around.

The inside was empty except for some old equipment. The heater was dead and half the windows were cracked. But the walls were solid concrete, at least one foot thick.

"Like I said, it needs work," Walter said. "Are you planning storage? Or a business?" 

"Something like that," I said. He didn't push, and he took out his phone and started calling people.

I walked around, planning. I would fix the heater first. Then I would add strong locks, make a living corner and fill the rest with supplies.

"Good news," Walter said after twenty minutes. "The owner will do a quick sale. We could close the deal today if you wire the money by three." 

"Lemme go bring the money," I said, and moved towards the rented car car I brought.

We spent three hours at the title company signing papers. Walter kept looking at me like he couldn't believe it. I didn't care, and by six o'clock the warehouse was mine.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he said outside. "Mind if I ask what the place is for? Or did the Hales send you?" That name made my stomach tighten.

"I'm not a Hale anymore," I said. "I just need somewhere secure." 

Walter nodded slowly. "I have seen strange purchases in my career, but a warehouse like this, with cash, same day? That's a first. Are you in any trouble?" he asked. 

"No trouble," I said. "I'm just preparing." 

"For what?" He asked with a weird look.

"You'll find out in eleven days." I responded already walking away.

He laughed, but it was an uncomfortable laugh. I had signed my name on every paper, so I didn't think much of it.

I spent the rest of the evening shopping. I rented a bigger car, then bought generators, space heaters, flashlights and extension cords at the hardware store. 

After that I went to the grocery store for canned food, rice, pasta and bottled water, and I filled the car twice before I finished.

That night I was so tired, but it was a good kind of tired. It came from doing something, not just waiting to die. I was still thinking about the eleven days left when my phone rang.

I didn't know the number, but it was a local code, so I answered. 

"Hello?" There was silence, and then a woman's voice. It was a voice I had never heard before.

"Finally I heard your voice. I just called to tell you that you're not the only one who came back." And with that been said, she hung up. 

I called back, but the line said the number does not exist.