How To Survive Apocalypse Book 소설 & 이야기

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one

“Brave.” His voice lowered slightly. “When you stood in front of that horde…” He paused briefly. “I’ve seen thousands of people panic since the world collapsed, Natasha. I’ve seen men abandon their own families to survive.” His eyes stayed fixed on hers. “But you…” Aaron smiled faintly like he still couldn’t fully understand it. “You stepped in front of death to protect people.” Natasha stayed quiet. Because honestly, she never thought about it that way. Aaron shook his head lightly. “Even the first day we met. You stood in front of me to stop that infected from attacking.” A soft laugh escaped him. “In this ruined world, most people save themselves first.”

My gaze fell to the chaos spread across my desk. Receipts. Market forecasts. Shipping manifests. Lists upon lists of survival necessities. Heirloom seeds. Freeze-resistant livestock. Industrial generators. Antibiotics. Water purification systems. Solar batteries. Fuel reserves. Medical-grade insulation. Underground ventilation systems. The numbers were horrifying. I rubbed my temple, exhaustion clawing at my skull. I had spent the entire night calculating costs and inventory projections, cross-referencing what humanity had run out of first during the first collapse. Food had failed in six days.

The yard was a minefield of trenches, and the living room was packed to the ceiling with crates of cup noodles and survival crackers I'd hoarded online. There wasn't even room to walk. He stood before an expensive rug pinned beneath boxes of survival crackers, his expression darkening. "Phoebe, what is all this?" I rushed over, dragged him into the bedroom, and locked the door behind us with an air of absolute secrecy. "Honey, I need to tell you something huge. The apocalypse is coming." Gabriel stared at me, his eyes full of complex emotions. He reached out and felt my forehead, but I had no fever.

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

It was a pot of violently bubbling chili con carne, slick with red oil. The girls hadn’t reacted in time. The scalding liquid drenched them from head to toe, coating their faces and hair. They clawed wildly at their skin, wailing in agony. It had all happened in a flash. Dominic hadn’t even processed it until everything was already over. "Call an ambulance! Hurry!" I forced panic into my voice. Dominic stammered before finally snapping out of it and dialing emergency services. The boiling red chili blistered their faces instantly. As they rubbed frantically at the burns, the skin sloughed away, exposing raw flesh beneath. It was horrifying to look at.

Going head-to-head with him would only end up with both parties wounded, and this might affect my survival rate during the apocalypse. The most important thing to do right now was to use the last of my time to hoard enough water and provisions to get through the heat apocalypse. The only problem I had was finding a hiding place for them. If I headed back to my hometown now, I might die on the way. I thought about this for a while and suddenly had an idea.

"I was digging downward, right? Why did I end up on the snow… outside the gas company?" Brendan panicked, snot running down his face. His voice trembled. "K-Kind sir! Please don't kill me! I'll do anything! Just spare me… please, spare me!" How many of them had there been before? Eighteen. Now? Only him. One. This mysterious enemy was way beyond his ability to fight. Fighting meant certain death. Begging… maybe a slim chance at survival. Brendan always believed in knowing when to bend. Can't beat them? Kneel. Survival came first. Before the apocalypse, who wouldn't kill without hesitation?

This time, my parents believed her completely. Other than the house we were living in, they sold the storefront and the car in a rush, converted everything into cash, and started stockpiling supplies. They ordered tens of tons of flour, bought several large freezers to store chicken, beef, fish, and pork, and hauled truckloads of daily necessities, clothes, underwear, and bathroom supplies into the house. "In the late stages of the apocalypse, anti-inflammatory medicine will be the hardest to find. We should stock up now. Later, a single pill could be worth a cow."

After returning to Camp Arthor, I settled all of Sasha's paperwork and placed her at the hospital while Leo stayed by my side and followed me around. "You know that you don't have to keep following me around, don't you? I'm just a regular researcher now," I said with a sigh. After arriving at this base camp, the water crisis had been temporarily resolved for now. But there was an even greater challenge on the way, and it required more attention. Every researcher was desperately trying to find a way to end the apocalypse.