Warehouse of the Apocalypse

A perfect start was ruined in an instant by a lovestruck idiot.

I yanked my leg free from her grip without hesitation. "First, the doors are not opening again. Second, if you want to live, shut up and do as you’re told.

"And third," I added coldly, "don’t touch me again."

I turned and walked away without another glance.

Back in the office, I pointed out the window at the world now buried under frost and the bodies frozen solid like statues.

"Take a good look. The world’s changed. This is our fortress now. If you want to survive, follow my lead."

Rhys nodded immediately. "Got it."

Garrick followed, nodding hard.

I didn’t take them to open packages. Instead, I headed to the break room and dragged out everything edible I could find, laying it all on the table: half a box of instant noodles, a few bottles of water, an opened bag of crackers, and a couple of shriveled apples.

Garrick’s stomach growled. He stared at the meager pile, swallowing hard. "That’s it?"

"That’s everything we have right now." I spread the food out. "From today on, we ration. A pack of noodles and half a bottle of water per person, per day. No exceptions."

My gaze swept across them, finally landing on Tamsin. She looked at the mountain of unopened packages, then at the pitiful amount of food on the table. Her lips moved slightly, but she didn’t dare speak.

"Now’s not the time to stand around." I clapped once. "Move. Rhys, you’re with me—generator and diesel check.

"Garrick, head to the tool room. Grab every axe and pry bar you can find.

"Tamsin, seal every window on the second floor with cardboard and foam. Leave one viewing gap."

Night fell fast.

Once everything was done, I had them move into my office, the smallest space available. One heater was enough to keep it warm.

"Starting tonight, we all stay here. No one goes down to the first floor without my permission."

In the dead silence of the night, the crunch of dry noodles being crushed in Garrick’s hand sounded unnaturally loud.

After hesitating for a long time, he finally spoke in a low voice, "Boss, are there really no survivors out there?"

I didn’t even look up, still checking the fire axe in my hand.

"Thinking about that won’t help you. Figure out how to survive tomorrow."

…

By the third night, the temperature had dropped below -50°C. The faint red glow from the heater looked almost powerless.

The last pack of instant noodles was broken into four pieces and boiled into a thin, watery soup. We shared it.

Even the broth was licked clean.

Garrick rubbed his hands, already raw and red from the cold. The breath leaving his mouth turned instantly visible. He looked at me, his voice hoarse.

"Boss, I can’t take it anymore. At this rate, we won’t starve to death. We’ll freeze first."

Rhys said nothing, only pulling his thin work jacket tighter around himself.

I stood up.

We couldn’t wait any longer.

I looked at all three of them. "Starting now, in order to survive, we use what’s here."

I picked up a brand-new notebook and pen from my desk and handed them to Tamsin. "You’re recording everything. Every item we open: brand, quantity, and recipient information. All of it."

I met her eyes and added, "When this is over, Blackridge will compensate for everything."

That was the line I wouldn’t cross.