Chapter 4: Allies in the Ashes

So I asked Mr. Grady if he knew anyone who could do security windows—needed urgent welding.

Mr. Grady scratched his head. He knew plenty of handymen from managing the place, but security windows weren’t common here.

But since sealing the windows was a safety thing, I frowned.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Grady quietly admitted he’d done security window work back in his hometown—he knew how to weld. If I didn’t care how it looked…

This old guy. Jackpot.

Even though telling him my plans was risky, time was tight. No choice.

Besides, Mr. Grady knew I was renting the warehouse. He’d see the changes anyway.

I wired him a thousand bucks on Venmo.

Told him to buy blackout boards, steel bars, wood planks, welding gear—seal up all the doors and windows.

Said my friend would be storing expensive perishables, and since no one would be there, we needed anti-theft measures.

It was urgent—asked him to take the day off and finish it today.

Any extra cash would be his bonus.

But one more thing: he couldn’t tell a soul about this.

After all, it’s not the thief you fear, but the thief who keeps thinking about you.

Mr. Grady, after pocketing the money, promised to keep his mouth shut, changed clothes, and headed out for supplies.

I trusted him—that’s why I’d asked for his help.

With that, the biggest weight on my mind lifted.

I wanted to go buy supplies right away, but disappearing suddenly would look weird.

So I hustled back to the office to quit for real.

9:30 a.m., eleven and a half hours before the apocalypse.

As soon as I walked in, I heard the boss’s furious shout from his office.

"Alex! I sent you to building management—where’d you go? Gone so long, still not back, and the AC isn’t fixed!"

The boss stormed out.

The AC was barely cool, nowhere near enough for this heat.

He looked like a greasy roast pig, pounding the table nonstop.

Everyone kept sneaking glances at me, grinning behind their hands.

It was just like last time.

I’d found the shelter, but the boss threw me out.

Back then, they all just watched, cold as ice.

Anger burned in my chest; I clenched my fists.

But now wasn’t the time for revenge. Karma would come for them—I couldn’t waste a second.

While the boss was still ranting, I shot back.

"The AC isn’t my job. Why are you yelling at me?"

"You think I don’t know it’s hot? I ran around in this heat to help you check the AC, and you’re blaming me?"

Sure enough, the boss froze for a second, then got even redder and screamed at me to get lost.

Exactly what I wanted. I grabbed my stuff and left, not looking back.

On my way out, I bumped into Eric Shin again. He eyed me, then suddenly asked,

"Hey Alex, I saw you and Mr. Grady from building management go to the old cold storage earlier. What were you up to?"

My guard shot up instantly.

Eric hadn’t been among the ones who threw me out last time.

But I didn’t trust anyone anymore. Even asking Mr. Grady for help was a gamble.

So I made up a story and hurried off.

There were still eleven hours left. I had to hustle and buy supplies.

Two thousand pounds of rice.

Five hundred five-gallon jugs of purified water.

That was the bare minimum.

I’d done the math: one person eats about two pounds of rice a day—so this would last me over two years.

And if I used up one jug of water per day, I could last more than a year.

I didn’t know if the water would go out along with the power.

But thinking about it, even if the water system survived, with this kind of heat, sources would dry up fast.

So I stocked up on water—just in case.

Next: all kinds of meat and veggies.

No point hoarding too much. Once the power went, the freezers would only last so long.

At best, after a couple months, all the food would spoil.

So I estimated, bought just enough to fill the warehouse freezers.

But I did grab dozens of boxes of spices, canned goods, and instant meals.

Those keep at room temp for ages—won’t spoil for a year or two.

They’d be my lifeline.

I didn’t know how long the heat would last. Even if I had to live on rice and canned beans, at least I’d survive.

To avoid suspicion, I bought from three or four big-box stores.

I also lined up five water delivery companies to drop off at different times.

Each store and water company just needed a small truck, so bringing them into the business park wouldn’t draw attention.

Then came daily necessities.

Besides ten emergency lanterns and about a hundred power banks, I skipped appliances.

After the power died, appliances were dead weight.

Plus, with the risk of electrical fires from the heat, I couldn’t chance it.

For cooking, I had a plan: with it so hot outside, it’d be like a natural oven.

I’d just need to modify a window on the second floor.

Before eating, I’d put food out, guess the time, wait for it to cook, then bring it back in.

Up and down in a few minutes—I could manage.

But I did stock up on underwear and hygiene products.

With no way to wash, all I could do was change clothes often.

I also bought sun protection gear—jackets, hats, thick-soled boots, goggles, all the basics—in case I needed to go out.

Didn’t need too much; I prepped a dozen sets, more than enough for me.

Oh, and medicine.

Biggest fear when hiding inside: getting sick. I had to keep my nutrition up.

I hit up several pharmacies, bought a ton of common meds, mainly vitamins.

They barely took up any space.

Even stocking up for years was just two big boxes.

By the time I finished, it was already 2 p.m.

The sun was merciless. The temperature had soared to 136 degrees.

But the stores I passed were still packed.

Most people were buying supplies to ride out the heat at home, so the supermarkets were slammed.

Good thing I bought early; several loads had already been delivered.

I called Mr. Grady, told him someone would be dropping off goods, and asked him to help receive them on the first floor.

At that point, I was seriously glad I’d asked for his help.

With him on my side, I just barely had enough time.

Still, you can never be too careful.

Finally, I picked up some self-defense gear: two baseball bats, a handful of knives.

And, quietly, a high-voltage stun gun.

I stuffed everything in my backpack, pulled on a hat and sun-protective clothes, wrapped up tight, and headed back to the business park.

No clue how Mr. Grady was doing with the welding—just hoped he wasn’t too slow.

3 p.m., 6 hours until the apocalypse.

The weather was beyond brutal.

The air above the ground shimmered like a mirage.

Not a soul on the park roads.

Exactly what I wanted.

If I ran into anyone, especially from the office, I’d have a hell of a time explaining.

I cut down a side path to the building I’d rented.

At a glance, all the windows were sealed, the iron gate at the front locked up tight.

A supermarket van was parked at the side door.

Looking at the store logo, it had to be the last load.

Perfect. Everything was on track. The rest of my prep would just barely fit in the time left.

But as I walked over, someone called out.

"Hey Alex."

I turned, startled, and saw someone standing in the shadow of an empty building nearby.

It was Eric Shin. Again.

"On a day like this, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Waiting for you."

That made me even more nervous.

"Waiting for me for what, you…"

I was still scrambling for an excuse when he pulled me aside, dead serious.

"Alex, I know everything. The world really is ending, and you’re prepping too, right?"

I stared at him, speechless for a second.

My brain scrambled. "You too…?"

Eric nodded. Something flickered in his eyes—pain, maybe regret—then a shadow passed over his face.

I’d learn later about his last life.

When I’d gone to find the warehouse, he and a few others hit the park’s small shop, but there was almost nothing left.

At that point, the shop owner realized something was wrong and locked the door, refusing to sell anything else.

Someone in the crowd smashed the glass first.

Then all hell broke loose.

Naive Eric tried to stop the chaos, but got knocked down by the mob.

The looting turned into a nightmare.

The shop owner and several women became targets for violence.

In the apocalypse, humanity went out the window.

Eric was eventually trampled to death.

That memory was so sharp it almost hurt.

Remembering his story, I thought of my own. We stood in silence for a long time before coming back to ourselves.

He said he wanted to join me.

My heart skipped. I instinctively touched the stun gun in my pocket.

Even though he wasn’t a bad guy, and he knew about the end, and even though my supplies were more than his, there’d be enough for both of us—

But in the apocalypse, trying to play the hero is a good way to die.

I didn’t know if he’d make the same mistakes again.

Seeing I didn’t answer, he hurried to reassure me.

"Don’t worry, Alex, I’ve stocked up on dry food and water from the shop, enough to last me a while. I just want a safe place."

"How do you know I have one?"

"Last time, you said you were going to find a place. Today I saw you go there with Mr. Grady, so I figured you’d found it."

I took a deep breath, still hesitating.

"Also, I brought something else we might need."

"Oh? What’s that?"

Eric said he’d gotten a diesel generator and several cans of diesel.

I gave a wry smile—told him I hadn’t bought any appliances, and with this heat, I didn’t dare use them.

But his face turned serious.

"This is for monitoring the area around our shelter."

He pointed at the building I’d rented.

"I know you sealed all the doors and windows, but that means we can’t see outside either. In the apocalypse, you never know what people will do, so I plan to install cameras in hidden corners outside. That way, we can prevent trouble. I work in IT, so I can set it up myself."

I was impressed—I hadn’t even thought of that. Maybe having Eric join wasn’t such a bad idea.

But I still had one last question for him.

"If you see something outside, what’ll you do?"

"Protect myself. Protect us. No one gets in, period."

There was no hesitation in his eyes now.

It sounded harsh, but that’s the rule if you want to survive the end.

I felt reassured, clapped him on the shoulder.

"Then get moving. Not much time left."

He managed a tight smile. For a second, under the boiling sky, the two of us stood together—two people who remembered the end. And this time, maybe—just maybe—we’d survive.