Todos os capítulos de The Apocalypse Hoarder: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Cries kept rising at the window. The people outside slammed their heads until the skin split and blood streaked down the glass. The sound scraped at the nerves."Come on now. Don't do this. It unsettles me." Cyrus sighed and walked to the window while lifting a steaming plate of pasta."My appetite wakes when I feel uneasy," he said and slurped a mouthful.He ate with open pleasure. The neighbors stared and swallowed hard. Hunger gnawed at them. Rage simmered in them. Their pleas grew louder, and their heads struck the glass with frantic force."Cyrus, we were wrong. We only want to live.""Give us a little food. Let us live like dogs. Anything you want later, we will do."Cyrus kept eating. A hot plate of pasta could feel like a small treasure when someone starved. After half a plate he set the rest on the sill. One pane of glass kept them from the warmth. They could see the food. They could not reach it. Their faces spread against the window like animals pretending the feast be

The next morning Cyrus heard gunshots echo through the stairwell. Two sharp cracks sounded like oversized firecrackers.He knew Jack had fired them. Jack's thoughts from the night before had hardened. Fear left a hollow space and something darker filled it. Desperation thinned the edges of shame. Cyrus' promise of a week of full meals had turned into poison for their judgment.Cyrus opened the feed and watched the fight unfold on the monitors. Two young men lay on the floor with a wrench and a cleaver beside them.Blood darkened the stairwell. Jack stood against the wall with his gun locked in both hands. Relief and shock flickered across his face.The dead men had tried to block access to the water. That blockade invited opportunistic attacks. Others had seized the moment and struck back.Jack's crew dragged the bodies away. Then Jack and the survivors hurried into their flat. The pistol clenched in his fist gave him the only sense of safety he had left.They dumped the corpses

"Open the door! I am Jack. Swap us for this room. Open up, or I will shoot!"The young couple inside clung to each other in terror. "What do we do? They came to take our place. We might even lose the little food we have left."The wife stared at her husband with a pale, desperate look. He wore glasses and had the air of a mild office worker. He held her and forced a steady tone. "Don't be afraid. It will be okay. If they want the house, we will give it to them. Quick, hide the rest of the food on your body."They pushed the remaining rations into their clothes. Their hands shook as they unlocked the door.When the man saw Jack and the others waiting at the threshold he swallowed hard and bowed. "Jack, this place is yours. We will leave right now."They tried to walk away together, but one of Jack's lackeys snorted and swung a steel pipe.The man's knees buckled. Darkness rushed in. His vision dimmed on the tiled floor in a haze of disbelief. He had complied and given up the house

Cyrus' flaunting drove the whole building mad. Even his trash scraps looked like gourmet food to them. The sight made them ache with envy.Andrew's apartment lay in ruins. Their raid had failed, and the antibiotics they needed were gone.Two days later the consequences hit. The three wounded men felt their injuries burn with a fierce, crawling itch. Their bandages darkened with a strange yellow seep.Andrew lost control and tore off the gauze. The wound had turned rotten. Thick, foul clumps of pus oozed out. The stench rose like rot and spoiled meat."No, no, no. Not like this. I'm not ready to die," Andrew sobbed as tears and snot ran together.Percy and Gideon stared in horror. They pulled back their own dressings and prayed the infection had spared them. Hope collapsed at once.Rusted bolts had driven deep into muscle. Infection had taken hold, and the lack of antibiotics or food sealed their fate. The pain pushed them close to madness. Their screams tore through the room.Di

Cyrus would take Zoey in, but she had to hand over proof of loyalty first. His terms were simple: be useful, be no threat, and most importantly, do not act like a saint.He believed she could handle the first two. He needed to know if she could handle the third. Thus, he gave her a test.Zoey did not reply right away. She paused, weighing her options.Cyrus did not rush her. Time worked in his favor. If she failed, he would drop her without hesitation. He stayed healthy and rarely caught anything serious, so he saw no reason to put himself at risk. How long she would last remained a mystery.The next morning…Cyrus slept until ten. He slid out from under the velvet covers and cleaned up.He put on workout clothes and started running on the treadmill. In the Frostfall, physical strength mattered more than ever. Only with solid fitness could you handle danger and keep illness away.He ran for an hour and worked up a steady sweat. Then he took a hot shower. Pride washed through him