All Chapters of APOCALYPSE QUEEN: LEVEL UP OR DIE: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The heavy rumble of Flatbed Two echoed through the main gate, pulling the entire compound’s attention to the courtyard.Terra hauled the wheel around, bringing the heavy vehicle to a smooth stop beside the armory. The back bed was piled high with wild turkeys—over two dozen fat, glossy birds trussed neatly in hemp twine, alongside fresh cedar boughs to keep the pests away.She hopped down from the cab, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheekbone as Dutch and Ronan stepped up to help unload the haul."Brought back the flock, Sovereign," Terra announced with a proud smirk, tossing a fat bird down to Ronan. "Enough poultry to keep the smokehouse running straight through to winter.""Good timing, Terra," I said, stepping up beside her with my hands resting on my gun belt. "Set the haul down. We need to brief you."Within ten minutes, Terra was standing beside the main map table in the courtyard, her arms crossed over her leather duster as Dutch, Ronan, Tristan, and I laid out the tactical

The gate lights hit us before the gravel did — Terra's doing, I'd learn later, she'd had someone on the watchtower scanning the tree line since the charge went off on the industrial park's north fence, bright enough to be seen from the mountain if you knew where to look.She was already at the trucks when we rolled to a stop, and whatever relief crossed her face at the sight of six new faces evaporated the second she saw Ronan slumped between Dutch and me, soaked dark from ribs to hip."Med bay," she barked, and didn't wait for confirmation before she was moving, clearing a path through the courtyard like she'd been born giving orders instead of just getting good at it these last few months. "Thorne! Incoming, critical!"Melony met us at the clinic door already gloved, already furious in the specific, focused way that meant she'd process being scared later, on her own time, same as I would. "Table two. Now. Don't you dare bleed on my clean floor, Ronan, I mean it—""Wasn't planning on

Ronan was asleep, finally, the deep kind that Thorne had promised meant healing instead of hiding, so the rest of us gathered in the mess hall without him. Dutch at the long table already elbow-deep in cleaning his rifle out of habit rather than need, Terra perched on the counter with her boots swinging, Rudy setting a stack of mismatched mugs down like he was hosting a formal dinner instead of feeding an apocalypse family. Eli sat wedged between Allen and Rhea on the bench, the three of them arguing in fierce whispers over a hand of cards, and Tristan leaned in the doorway with the loose, watchful ease he always had when he wasn't the one in charge of a room.Emily sat near the fire, one hand resting over the unmistakable curve of her belly, glowing in the particular way of someone who'd stopped being afraid of how visible her pregnancy had gotten. She was close now. Close enough that I found my eyes drifting to her more than once a day, doing the same quiet math LUS never stopped run

The warmth of the previous night had faded with the dawn, replaced by a cold mountain mist that clung to the pine tops.I was sitting at the wooden table in the courtyard, a mug of black chicory coffee steaming between my hands, watching the grey light spread over the palisades. The string lights from Emily's baby shower still hung above the empty tables, dead and silent, a stark contrast to the quiet edge that always returned to Apex when the sun came up. Somewhere under the table, a scrap of wrapping paper had blown loose from last night and caught against the leg, fluttering weakly in the cold air like it hadn't gotten the message yet that the party was over.I let myself have one more slow breath before the mountain remembered what it was. That was the deal I made with myself most mornings now — one quiet minute where I was just a woman with coffee, before I had to be the Sovereign again. The peaches Melony had rationed out last night still sat faintly sweet on the back of my tong

The rock cut still smelled like cordite and diesel exhaust, the echo of the last shot fading out over the ravine. Two of the other three men from the truck bed lay zip-tied and groaning against the boulder where Tristan had dropped them, disarmed before they'd even cleared the tailgate. The third hadn't been fast enough to matter. LUS didn't offer a eulogy for him. It just quietly struck one signature from the thermal count and moved on, the same cold efficiency it applied to everything.The driver slumped back against the smoking rubber of his truck's front tire, clutching his bleeding shoulder as Dutch stood over him like a marble monument.I took two steps forward, the damp gravel crunching under my tactical boots, my rifle held low at my hip. The morning mist hadn't fully burned off down here in the cut, and it curled low around our ankles, softening the edges of a scene that was anything but soft. The golden light of LUS flickered softly in my peripheral vision, running a real-ti