Apocalypse Rebirth: Reclaiming My Infinite Space

Ellery threw her car into park behind the massive, gray concrete structure of the state's largest wholesale club. She didn't drive to the front entrance where the suburban moms with their oversized shopping carts were lining up. She drove straight to the loading docks in the back.

She killed the engine, grabbed a manila folder from the passenger seat, and walked up the metal stairs to a glass door marked Commercial Accounts & Bulk Logistics.

She pushed the door open. The office was loud, filled with the sound of ringing phones and dot-matrix printers. She walked straight to the largest desk in the room, where a woman with a tight bun and a stressed expression was aggressively typing on a keyboard. Her name tag read Wanda Novak - Regional Manager.

Ellery sat down in the chair opposite Wanda without being invited.

Wanda held up a finger, not looking away from her screen. "Give me a minute, I'm dealing with a supply chain issue."

Ellery didn't speak. She simply opened the manila folder and slid a piece of paper across the desk. It was a flawlessly forged 501(c)(3) non-profit license for a "Pacific Northwest Survivalist Youth Camp."

Wanda glanced at it, unimpressed. "We don't do tax-exempt discounts on orders under ten grand, honey."

Ellery reached into her coat pocket. She pulled out a cashier's check, officially certified by her bank, and placed it directly on top of the fake license.

The check was made out for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Wanda's fingers froze on the keyboard. Her eyes locked onto the string of zeros. She slowly looked up, her posture straightening instantly. The annoyance vanished from her face, replaced by laser-focused professionalism.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" Wanda asked, her voice dropping to a serious, respectful tone.

Ellery handed her a ten-page printed spreadsheet. "I am a procurement contractor for a government-subsidized earthquake preparedness initiative. I need this entire list fulfilled, palletized, and shrink-wrapped today."

Wanda scanned the first page. She sucked in a sharp breath. "Fifty tons of long-grain white rice. Twenty tons of high-protein flour. Ten tons of refined soybean oil." She flipped the page. "This is... this is massive."

"Can you fill it or not?" Ellery asked, her voice cold and flat.

Wanda grabbed her walkie-talkie off her belt. "I'll get three heavy-duty forklifts to the back aisles right now."

For the next two hours, Ellery walked alongside Wanda through the cavernous, towering aisles of the warehouse. She watched as the yellow forklifts pulled down massive, shrink-wrapped pallets of fifty-pound bags of rice and flour from the highest steel racks.

They moved to the canned goods section.

"Clear it," Ellery ordered, pointing to the shelves. "Every single can of Spam, red kidney beans, and tomato paste with an expiration date further out than five years. I want all of it."

She spotted a massive overstock display of high-calorie, military-grade survival biscuits. She waved her hand, and the forklift drivers loaded all four pallets.

In the chemical and hygiene aisles, she bought enough toilet paper, medical-grade alcohol, bleach, and feminine hygiene products to fill two semi-trucks.

Wanda was sweating. She was punching numbers into her tablet so fast her fingers were blurring. This single order was going to hit her quarterly quota in one afternoon.

As they stood near the loading bays verifying the final counts, Wanda suddenly shivered. She rubbed her arms. "Jesus, did corporate crank the AC down? It's freezing in here."

Ellery's eyes darted to the massive open bay doors. Outside, the sky had turned a sickly, bruised gray. The wind whipping into the warehouse carried a biting, unnatural chill. The meteorological anomalies were already starting. The temperature was dropping too fast.

Ellery looked at Wanda. In her past life, during the first week of the freeze, Wanda had recognized Ellery shivering outside the store and had secretly handed her a half-empty bottle of water.

Ellery stepped closer to Wanda. She lowered her voice, her eyes locking onto Wanda's with intense, terrifying sincerity.

"Wanda. Listen to me very carefully," Ellery whispered. "Use your employee discount today. Before you clock out, buy the heaviest winter coats you have in stock. Buy sleeping bags. Buy as much high-calorie food as you can fit in your car. Take it home."

Wanda blinked, taken aback. "What? Why? It's just a cold front."

"Do it," Ellery commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. The sheer oppressive weight of Ellery's stare forced Wanda to swallow hard.

Wanda slowly nodded, pulling a pen from her pocket and scribbling a note on her clipboard.

Ellery signed the final manifest. The total came to two hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars.

"I need this delivered to an industrial park in the valley by 8:00 AM tomorrow," Ellery said, writing down a zip code. "If it's late, I cancel the check."

"I'll hire an external flatbed fleet right now," Wanda promised.

Ellery walked out of the warehouse. The wind hit her face like a slap of ice. She pulled her coat tight, pulled out her phone, and started searching for commercial warehouse leases. She had the food. Now she needed a place to hide it.