Back To Survive In The Frozen Apocalypse 소설 & 이야기

The one that had ended three days before with the words, I hope the snake finds me. I had torn out that page and burned it in the washstand. Nobody was going to hope for a snake in this room. Under Day 89, I wrote a list. SHELTER. Somewhere high, dry and hidden, with a water source. FOOD. Enough to feed a hundred people for a year. WATER. Clean. Filtered. Stored. MEDICINE. Anything Molly's family can brew. PEOPLE. The ones who will not abandon us. BEAST CORES. Currency, fuel, weapons.

The journaling was cathartic, a way to process her emotions and maintain her sanity. In the evenings, she watched the external cameras, monitoring the frozen wasteland that had once been her home. The black hail had stopped falling, but the cold remained, its grip unrelenting. The temperature had stabilized at -55°C, cold enough to kill any exposed flesh within minutes. The city was a ghost town, its streets empty, its buildings dark. The survivors had either fled or died, leaving behind nothing but frozen corpses and abandoned dreams. Clara watched it all with cold detachment, her expression unreadable. She had survived. She had thrived. And she would continue to thrive, regardless of what

That debt had to be settled properly. Three days later, on a stormy night with pouring rain, a battered armored vehicle—barely holding together—smashed through the gates of the villa complex. Callie and Dan crawled out of the car, covered in mud and looking utterly miserable. Behind them, more than a dozen mutated zombies were chasing them. “Help! Is anyone there? Help!” Callie screamed, her voice hoarse. Dan gripped a machete in his hand, but it was useless against mutated zombies.

Please let me into the bunker… I don't want to die with pigs…] I didn't reply to a single message. Not until the fifth day after the apocalypse, when the bunker's alarm system suddenly went off. I pulled up the exterior surveillance feed and was greeted with a scene so absurd it was almost comical. Stanley, Daisy, and Denise had wrapped themselves head to toe in soaked bedsheets, like three shambling mummies, and were creeping toward the disguised entrance of my bunker. They had risked their lives to find it. Stanley pounded the scorching metal door with all his strength, his voice hoarse as he screamed, "Amelia! Open the door! We know you're in there! Open up!"

In addition, you must also survive in this post-apocalyptic world; otherwise, you will die in this frozen world. The broad smile on Poppy's face slowly disappeared from her lips, replaced by a look of disbelief. "No way! How can I still have to survive after dying so tragically before!” Poppy fell to the ground in a pile of snow, running her hands through her hair in frustration. [Host, there is no need to be afraid. The System will help the Host survive in this apocalyptic world.] “What exactly can you do to help me?” Poppy became curious about what this entity, calling itself the System, could do to help her survive.

Through the heavy insulation, a horrific, low-pitched screaming sound was echoing—the sound of the real, unmitigated atmospheric nitrogen storm clawing at the concrete foundations of their sanctuary. ​Her golden finger timeline ledger flared with total, absolute clarity. In her past life, this specific sub-zero freeze had locked the entire continent in an unbreakable sheet of glacial ice for three months, forcing the remaining local factions into a brutal, primitive war for survival over coal repositories, insulated clothing, and medical supplies. To stabilize the region's atmosphere and stop the freeze from turning the basin into a permanent dead zone, they had to leave the safety of the b

the mother cried. “Then earn enough ration credits to qualify,” the officer replied. The girl whimpered against her mother's shoulder. I watched the gates close between them and the man with the floating crate. So much for humanity's last safe ground. Our utility vehicle rolled toward the checkpoint, carrying four men who could change my chances of survival—and a storage reserve I had no intention of surrendering. I had survived an early apocalypse, escaped an ambush, and discovered that my system wanted one of my new companions dead.

Under it, Frank Gallagher had written a few lines. Geothermal, deep well, buried greenhouses. Harold's place. Could keep two or three hundred alive if they had food. The Bennett boy, Harold's student, the frost-hardy barley lines held at minus thirty in the chamber trials. Read his paper four times. If anyone can grow food up there, it's him. Someone has to get that kid to Northfield before winter. I read it and then sat there holding the edge of the notebook.

"My crew is working round-the-clock triple shifts. By Wednesday night, forty-eight hours from now, the atmospheric seals will be locked, the hydro-farms will be powered, and the mountain will be an impenetrable fortress. But you have to hold out until then." ​"I... I understand," I whispered. "Keep the gates locked, Vance. Don't let anyone in." ​"Stay safe, Miss Vance. Thorne out." ​The line went quiet. ​I lowered the satellite phone, tucked it back into the glove compartment, and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. ​The heat inside the parking garage was suffocating, hovering at over one hundred degrees even four levels underground. On the car dashboard, the digital clock display

My girlfriend, Summer Reeds, told me the apocalypse was coming and sent me to a snowy peak in the dead of night, saying it was for my own safety. "There's going to be a period of extreme heat and torrential rain, so this is the safest place you can be in! Stay here and be good. I'll go get the supplies!" Summer was a meteorological data analyst, so I trusted her. However, even as the day crept into night, she still hadn't returned. Wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt and shorts, I shivered uncontrollably in the icy cave. I took out my phone to call her, only for the screen to automatically switch to the surveillance feed from home. My entire family was gathered around my foster brother