chapter 4

Chapter 4: Blueprint for the End

​The morning sun barely cut through the thick grey fog as I pulled my SUV off the highway and onto the gravel path leading into the northern valley.

​My grandfather’s old timber estate sat in the middle of a massive hundred-acre parcel of land, surrounded by dense pine forests and jagged rocky hills. In my past life, Julian had talked me into selling this entire plot to a commercial developer for dirt cheap. Later, he used the underground survival shelter my father had spent five years secretly constructing beneath the main house as his personal sanctuary while the city burned.

​Not this time.

​I parked near the edge of the tree line and stepped out into the crisp air. Three heavy earth-moving bulldozers and two large supply trucks were already idling near the old barn. A tall woman in a high-visibility vest and hard hat walked over, holding a rugged digital tablet under her arm.

​"Evelyn?" she asked, offering a firm, quick handshake. "I’m Sarah, site manager for Vanguard Solutions. Your wire transfer cleared this morning."

​"Good," I said, looking over at the heavy equipment. "Can we stick to the seventy-day timeline?"

​Sarah tapped her tablet, bringing up a 3D architectural render of the underground facility. "If we run double shifts, yes. Your father’s foundation was incredibly solid—he already cleared the primary excavation and reinforced the core concrete slab before he passed. That saves us at least two months of deep earthwork."

​She pointed toward the reinforced steel hatch half-hidden beneath the floorboards of the old barn.

​"We’re going to expand the living quarters from four rooms to twelve," Sarah explained, zooming in on the blueprint. "We'll install commercial-grade air filtration units with nuclear, biological, and chemical ratings, link up a deep-well water filtration system, and bury a thirty-thousand-gallon fuel tank for the dual generators. We’re also placing solar arrays along the ridge line disguised as standard residential panels."

​"What about security on the perimeter?" I asked.

​"Ten-foot reinforced chain-link fencing with razor wire, motion sensors, and thermal night-vision cameras around the entire inner perimeter," Sarah replied. "If anything or anyone comes within fifty yards of the main hatch, you’ll know."

​"Make the fence twelve feet," I corrected her softly. "And set the outer gate with heavy steel reinforcement. I want this place to look like a deserted, run-down farm from the road, but hold up like a bunker on the inside."

​Sarah gave me a curious look, but she didn't pry. When you pay double in upfront cash, contractors don't ask unnecessary questions. "Understood. Work starts in twenty minutes."

​"Thank you, Sarah."

​I spent the next hour walking around the site, confirming where the underground hydroponic bays would go for growing fresh vegetables without sunlight. Satisfied with the progress, I got back into my car and checked my phone.

​A text from my commercial real estate broker popped up on the screen.

​Broker: Good news, Evelyn. The property owner for the South 5th Street commercial block agreed to your offer. We can sign the lease-to-own papers by 3:00 PM today.

​I let out a quiet breath of relief. Buying the entire block meant I now legally owned the land beneath Derrick’s repair shop, as well as the adjacent vacant warehouse and the brick buildings on either side.

​Derrick had a five-year lease on his garage space, so legally I couldn't evict him or force him to leave—which was exactly what I wanted. He would stay right where he was, completely unaware that I was about to quietly fortify every surrounding building around him.

​By 2:00 PM, I drove back into the south side of the city.

​I parked two blocks away from Southside Automotive Repair, pulling my cap down low. I walked past the shop on the opposite side of the street, pretending to glance at my phone while taking in the layout.

​Derrick was outside under the open hood of a blue sedan, a wrench in his hand and grease smeared across his jaw. His younger sister, Maya, a eighteen-year-old high school senior with bright eyes and messy pigtails, was sitting on a folding chair near the garage entrance, studying from a thick textbook.

​Seeing Maya made my heart ache. In my past life, when the initial outbreak hit the city streets, Maya had been trapped at her school campus. Derrick had nearly died fighting his way across the city to reach her, only to find her already infected. It was the tragedy that broke whatever was left of Derrick’s spirit before Julian's guards beat him away from my SUV.

​Not this time, I swore to myself. I will make sure Maya is safe before the first case even hits the news.

​I crossed the street and walked into the small real estate office at the corner. My broker, a sharp man in a gray suit named Mr. Miller, was waiting with a thick folder.

​"Everything is prepared, Ms. Evelyn," Mr. Miller said, handing me a pen. "Once you sign here, control of the six commercial lots on South 5th Street transfers to you immediately."

​I signed my name swiftly on every designated line. "Mr. Miller, I want to hire a local construction crew to renovate the vacant brick warehouse right next to the auto repair shop."

​"What kind of renovations?"

​"I want the brick walls reinforced with interior steel plating," I instructed plain and simple. "Install heavy rolling steel security shutters over every window and door, put high-capacity solar panels on the roof, and convert the interior into a climate-controlled storage space."

​Mr. Miller blinked, taken aback. "Reinforced steel inside a warehouse? Are you planning to store valuable jewelry or high-end cars?"

​"Something like that," I said, putting the pen down. "I also want high-definition security cameras installed along the alleyway between the warehouse and the auto shop. Make sure the live video feed routes directly to my phone."

​"I'll hire the crew today," Mr. Miller said, taking the signed papers. "Work can begin as early as Friday."

​As I stepped out of the real estate office, I looked over at Derrick’s shop one last time.

​He was wiping his forehead with a rag, talking to Maya with a faint, rare smile on his face. He looked calm, grounded, and entirely unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.

​He hated me. He thought I was a toxic, selfish liar who belonged in his past. But as I watched him laugh with his sister, I knew I didn't care how much he despised me.

​I had eighty-nine days left. I was going to turn that empty warehouse next door into a fully stocked survival fortress, and when the dead began to walk, Derrick and Maya would have everything they needed to survive—whether Derrick wanted my help or not.