Chapter 2: Race for the Cold Sanctuary

"Wiring insulation melts at over 200 degrees, and fireproof cables need even more, not to mention the copper inside. What’s it now, 108? As long as there’s power, just crank up the AC! Maybe try reading less fiction, more real news."

Everyone burst out laughing—except me.

Because, honestly, they had no clue.

Twelve hours from now, people would be shocked to see the sun hadn’t set.

The temperature would keep rising—past 140 degrees.

The grid would fail, and after running on the edge, the equipment would collapse.

And what they didn’t see coming—

Even if the air temperature was just barely survivable,

The ground, after baking under the sun, would hit over 300 degrees.

That meant most tires would melt right where they sat.

Traffic would freeze, supply chains would collapse in an instant.

Almost every outdoor protection would fail. Anyone outside more than half an hour would die of dehydration.

I had no idea how long it would take to rebuild a heat-resistant supply system and rescue network.

But honestly, most people wouldn’t live to see help arrive.

My thoughts got cut off by a few coughs from my boss, Gerald Price.

He stalked around the office with a stopwatch in hand.

Noticing a few empty desks, his face twisted up.

"It’s been over 10 minutes, and people still aren’t here. Let them find HR for their penalty slips themselves."

Coworkers ducked their heads, snickering. I couldn’t help curling my lip in disgust.

The world was about to collapse, and these people could only manage to mock each other.

I stood up, ready to finally quit.

He wiped sweat from his brow.

"What’s up with the AC? Why isn’t it cool yet? Where’s admin? Why haven’t you gone to building management to ask?"

HR rep Linda Park slipped out and told him maintenance guy Mike had called out sick with heatstroke.

"Calling out just for heatstroke? Why do I even keep you people around?"

The boss scowled, spotted me, and jabbed a finger. "Alex Turner, go ask building management."

Fine, I thought, swallowing my resignation for now. I grabbed two bottles of water and headed straight for the management office.

At building management, a group had just left, grumbling under their breath.

Property manager Mr. Grady gave me a tired smile.

"We turned on the AC hours ago; it’s just too damn hot outside..."

I cut him off and handed him a bottle of water. "I know. Actually, I’m here for something else—something urgent."

Mr. Grady looked surprised. "What’s up?"

"Isn’t there a building at the edge of the park that used to be a refrigerated shipping company? Still vacant?"

He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"You mean Building E2?"

He pulled out a record book and flipped through a few pages.

"E2 is still empty, but there’s some stuff left inside. They said they’d clear it if someone rents it. Why, you interested?"