Apocalypse Wasteland Novels & Stories

I had another chance. I could avoid Daniel. I could stop begging my family to choose me. I could prepare before the shops emptied and the streets became dangerous. I had ninety-two days. For the first time in months, I wasn't thinking about how to survive until tomorrow. I was thinking about how to survive the entire apocalypse. I wiped my face and reached for my phone. My savings were small, but they were a beginning. I would need money, medicine, food, and a secure place to stay. I would have to be careful about whom I trusted and make decisions based on what I knew, not what I wished people would do for me.

Chapter Ten: The first night of the apocalypse was nothing like I remembered. In my previous life, I had spent it crying behind a locked door, begging my family to let me into their shelter. I had believed that if I apologized enough, they would remember I was one of them. They never did. This time, I sat inside my fortified house, watching the emergency broadcasts while my security cameras showed an increasingly deserted street. My gate was locked. My windows were secured. My supplies could last for months.

It was four years of repressed rage, four years of quiet submission, and the sheer agony of a horrific death, all bleeding out of me at once. When my lungs finally emptied, I gasped for air, a breathy, triumphant laugh bubbling up in my chest. I felt lighter. Whole and fulfilled. I tapped my chest, feeling the quiet, invisible pulse of the dimensional storage space residing within my mind. Thousands of dollars worth of grain, meat, tools, and purified water were resting silently in that white void. It’s still not enough, I thought, my eyes narrowing. The apocalypse lasts longer than a few months. But food means nothing without walls.

My system's experience counter ticked up by one. Madison couldn't speak. "Just like your mutated friend," I said. "Once they're dead, they're dead." In the backseat, Reid nodded slowly. He was starting to accept the reality of killing them. "Really?" Madison asked, her voice trembling. But something felt off to me. The way that zombie had appeared was too strange. Maybe the apocalypse is speeding up. "Look at your phones!" Madison yelped, trying to distract herself. "How is this person's hand shooting sparks?!"

"Recorded energy anomalies. They're mapped before the sky broke. Look at the dates." Jake looked. The first pins had been placed eighteen months ago. By the date on the last one, six weeks before the apocalypse, the map was nearly full. "They knew," Ethan whispered. "They saw it coming." "They saw something," Maya said. "I don't think they knew what." She pulled a binder off a shelf and flipped through pages of graphs. The lines on every page followed the same shape, a sharp spike, a pause, a second spike, a pause, a third spike, then a long silence. Maya stopped.

I still had to find the land, the materials, the machines, and the workers myself. I let out a short laugh. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. I knew from the start and I was prepared for it. Mentally of course. Then I opened the Apocalypse Exchange Store. The catalog made no sense for a normal supply run. It sold advanced weapons, medical equipment, farming technology, and construction materials. I scrolled past portable water purifiers that could turn toxic waste into drinking water. Then came compact medical scanners, advanced ammunition, and seeds built to grow in burned soil.

On the ninety-first day of the apocalypse, her husband shoved her out of the lift and told her she was too fat to save. Her best friend stepped on her fingers. Tamsin Orrey died begging. Then she woke up thirty days before the end of the world, with a system in her head, a divorce to file, and twenty million dollars everyone wanted. This time, she will not carry anyone. She will train. She will hoard. She will bond the dead and make them hers. And when the people who left her come crawling to her walls, she'll tell them exactly how much room there is.

I rejected the manuscript because the female lead was a pathetic martyr who died for her cheating boyfriend and evil twin. Hours later, I woke up in her body. I immediately dumped the boyfriend and abandoned the toxic family. But the invisible story system hated my choice. [Plot deviation detected. Apocalypse accelerated by 72 hours.] Now, the world is ending early, and the System wants me dead. My only hope? Teaming up with the disgraced, paranoid doomsday scientist everyone called crazy. The author wrote a tragedy. I am rewriting it into a survival guide.

It was the sound of a book closing. --- ### The Southern Estate The drive lasted for hours. I sat in the back of the car, staring out the darkened windows. The wasteland of 2026 was a nightmare. I saw ruins of malls, skeletal remains of highways, and groups of "Omegas"—humans who hadn't shifted or had lost their packs—huddled around trash-can fires. This was the "Real World." A world of starvation, hierarchy, and teeth. And then, we crossed a bridge.

Nami Bennett lived through the end of the world. She trusted the wrong people, and eventually paid for that trust with her life. Betrayed by the people closest to her, Nami dies believing she has nothing left. But instead of remaining dead, she wakes up six months before the apocalypse. She remembers everything: the disasters, the infected, the mutated creatures, the collapse of civilisation, and the people who betrayed her. This time, she refuses to make the same mistakes. With six months to prepare, Nami begins gathering supplies, securing a shelter, acquiring survival equipment, and distancing herself from the people who will eventually destroy her. However, knowing the fu