Rich Girl Transforms Into Doomsday Survival Maniac

Only ten days remained until my baby's predicted D-Day.

Karlie hadn't been slacking off either. She was busy spreading rumors all over our social circles.

She claimed that Gibson Group's capital chain had snapped, that Gabriel was not only bankrupt but swimming in debt, and that I had been driven completely insane.

It got to the point where a few of Gabriel's business associates actually called him to fish for information.

"Gabriel, I hear your place is undergoing some… renovations? Sounds like quite the project."

Gabriel remained entirely unfazed on the phone. "It's nothing. My wife's just really into an apocalyptic survival game lately. I'm just building her a live-action experience center."

The associate burst out laughing, praising Gabriel for spoiling his wife to a fault.

But things weren't nearly as pleasant on my end. My anxiety had reached an absolute fever pitch.

I kept feeling like we didn't have enough water, so I bought dozens of those massive plastic water towers, cramming them into every available inch of the villa's roof and basement.

I also stocked up on crates of baseball bats and tactical riot forks.

"Mom, we still need medicine! Antibiotics! Painkillers! And vitamins!"

My baby really proved he had been reborn. His attention to detail was immaculate.

Utilizing Gabriel's network, I managed to secure a massive stash of hospital-grade prescription drugs and first-aid kits.

…

Three days left on the countdown.

I dragged Gabriel along for one final run to the biggest warehouse store in the city.

This time, I bypassed the dry staples, heading straight for the snack aisles for chocolates, potato chips, candy, and soft drinks.

In the apocalypse, these things were currency and luxuries that could buy a sliver of happiness.

Gabriel trailed behind me, pushing five shopping carts overflowing with junk food.

People all around us were whispering and pointing, and some even pulled out their phones to snap pictures.

"Look, that's Mr. Gibson. I heard his wife has lost her mind."

"Yikes. Buying that many snacks? Is she trying to open a convenience store at home?"

For the first time in his life, Gabriel felt embarrassed, but he kept his posture rigid and pretended not to hear a thing.

Back at the house, I initiated the final lockdown.

I checked every single door and window, leaving only a single, concealed ventilation shaft open.

Every curtain was drawn tight, completely cutting off any view from the outside world.

Outside our perimeter fence, Karlie had started a live stream. "Look at this, everyone! This is the infamous 'doomsday bunker.' It's hilarious. If you didn't know any better, you'd think they were caging a monster in there."

The chat was flooded with people mocking me.

I stared at my phone and let out a cold sneer. "Laugh it up. Let's see if you're still laughing in a few days."

…

The day of the prophecy finally arrived.

That evening, the tension in the house was suffocating.

I forced everyone into Kevlar anti-stab suits. Even our Golden Retriever had to wear a muzzle so it wouldn't bark and draw the zombies.

Gabriel, clad in his tactical vest and holding a baseball bat, sat helplessly on the couch to keep me company through the night. "Phoebe, even if there were zombies, our doors are solid enough. Do we really need to pull a stakeout here?"

"Yes! We have to watch! The first wave is always the worst!"

The clock on the wall ticked away.

11:50 pm.

11:55 pm.

12:00 am.

The world seemed to hold its breath. I held mine too. My palms were slick with sweat.

No one knew what the next second would do to the world.

Outside the window, the usually bustling city was dead silent, save for the occasional stray chirp of an insect.

On the security monitors, the perimeter of the villa was pitch black. Nothing moved except the shadows of trees swaying in the wind.

1:00 am passed.

2:00 am passed.

3:00 am passed.

Still, there wasn't a soul in sight out there. A stray cat even strolled casually along the top of the wall.

Gabriel let out a massive yawn, tears welling in his eyes. "Phoebe, are the zombies… stuck in traffic?"

I was completely bewildered myself. I patted my stomach. "Baby, what's going on?"