Harlan Coben's Shelter

With a small thump, the seat beside the solitary guy became occupied. “Yo.” “Hi.” “Want a gum?” “No.” “Suit yourself.” “Hmm.”

Anita," her angelic voice calls to me. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Her soft, delicate hands caressing my face, sparkling green eyes grounding me from the dark past I wish I could forget. "You're safe, it's okay." I bring my hand up, running my finger over the mound of scar tissue. The constant reminder of that night. The raised bump covers the bullet fragment embedded in my sternum. She takes my hands as more thunder rumbles and tears roll down my cheeks. "Breathe Anita," she says in a soothing whisper. My lungs were burning with the need for air and it was then that I realized I'd been holding it. I take in a gasping breath and recall the first time my eyes met her green eyes. My sister had been lifted off me and my eyes opening had startled her. The first time she touched me gave me strength to hold on. I held her hand tight, trying to tell her what happened, but couldn't get enough breath to form words. Sitting in the present going through the same as I had five years ago. "They were all found, Anita. They can't hurt you anymore. It's just a storm. All the doors and windows are locked, the alarm is set. It's just you and me." "Will you keep the light on tonight, please?"

After our father died, my sister and I inherited a fortune, a luxury villa, and a tiny convenience store. She took the money and the mansion without hesitation, leaving me with the old shop everyone looked down on. One month later, the apocalypse began. A zombie outbreak swept through the world overnight. The rich became trapped in their homes with no food, no power, and no way out. My sister, once proud of her mansion and millions, ended up starving behind locked gates. Meanwhile, I survived comfortably inside the convenience store I had rebuilt into a fortress, living off endless supplies of snacks, canned food, and soda. When my sister collapsed on the streets begging for help, I risked my life to save her. But greed was stronger than gratitude. After eating my food and recovering her strength, she waited until I fell asleep… then threw me outside to be torn apart by zombies. The moment I died, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day we divided the inheritance. This time, my sister smugly grabbed the convenience store first, convinced she had stolen the better deal. What she didn’t know was that I had been reborn too. And this time, I came back with a Apocalypse Survival System. While she fought over scraps, the villa she abandoned would become the safest shelter left in the world.

Someone suddenly tags me in a parents' group chat. "Hey Madison, I notice that the lunch boxes you've prepared for your daughter have a nice variety and rich in nutrients. Why don't you prepare the same thing for my son starting from tomorrow onward? "I'm not going to leech off you. In fact, I'll pay you ten dollars per day. When it stacks up, you'll earn quite a lot per month." As I stare at the messages on the screen, I find the situation rather ridiculous. My daughter, Sophie Reed, is extremely picky, not to mention she has food allergies. All of the ingredients of her meals are flown in from their places of origin. That means one meal's net price is more than 500 dollars. Yet now, someone intends to use ten dollars just for me to replicate the same meal for them? I reply right away in the group chat, "No way." Unexpectedly, the next day, Sophie is in tears when she returns from the kindergarten. She tells me that her lunch box has gotten snatched by a fellow classmate. On top of that, the teacher scolds her for being selfish as well. Fine. Since those shameless people intend to take advantage of me, don't blame me for being ruthless at all.

A parent in my son's preschool group chat tagged me out of nowhere. "Theo's dad, your son's lunches always look pretty nice. Starting tomorrow, pack one for my daughter too." "I'm not asking for free food. I'll give you ten dollars a day. That adds up. You can make a little extra on the side." I stared at the message, almost laughing from how absurd it was. My son has severe food sensitivities and a fragile stomach. Every ingredient in his meals is specially sourced, and a single lunch costs far more than five hundred dollars to prepare. And this man thought ten dollars could buy it? I replied with two words: "Not happening." The next day, my son came home crying. His lunch had been taken by another child, and the teacher had scolded him for being selfish. Fine. Since they wanted to push this far, I would show them exactly how far I could go.

I receive a random WhatsApp message from Charlotte Ellis, a neighbor living downstairs, at 11:00 pm. "Olivia, do you drive to the city center every morning?" I've just gotten to know Charlotte, so I just reply, "Yes." Originally, I thought this is just small talk. But Charlotte is quick to send me a long audio message. "That's wonderful news! My husband is on a business trip lately, so I'm worried that I don't have anyone to send me to work! "From now on, you have to wait for me in your car at 8:00 am. Then, you can drop me off at my company." I frown immediately. "That's really inconvenient for me." My phone screen begins flickering all of a sudden. It turns out that Charlotte has started a voice call with me. "C'mon, Olivia! We're all neighbors here! So what if you have to make a detour of a few miles or so? Since you're sending me to work, I can help pass the time by chatting with you and alleviating your boredom! Besides, it'll be a waste of your front passenger seat, seeing as it's left empty and all!"