The hum of the lake and the distant sound of leaves rustling above the Ironhowl X4 was the only noise in Raven’s world. She lay curled across the backseat, a folded blanket under her head, one arm resting loosely across her chest. The stars inside Sanctuary shimmered in that slightly artificial way she’d come to recognize, like they were coded to imitate peace.
For the first time in either of her lives, she slept deeply and peacefully.
No Raiders screaming. No fire. No chains.
Just silence. Just safety.
When she stirred, the interior of the SUV had dimmed slightly with the artificial twilight of Sanctuary’s internal cycle. She sat up slowly, reaching for her phone. One glance at the glowing screen confirmed it.
January 4th.
Six days until the world ended again.
She opened her notifications. Her father—William Salvatore—had called three times. His voicemails were unhinged, barely coherent. Demanding where she was. Accusing her of stealing his black credit card. Complaining that he was being forced to use Victoria’s.
Raven exhaled through her nose, expression flat.
She pictured William scrambling around the mansion, barking at Brandon and Clarissa while little Jason sulked over not getting his favorite junk food delivered. A rich, privileged empire imploding under the weight of quiet debt—and not a single one of them realized it didn’t matter or that she was the cause their downfall.
She started a new note on her phone.
**Master Theft and Hoarding Plan: Pre-Apocalypse Final Sweep.**
1. Place an emergency order for tens of thousands of fast food meals. Cheeseburgers. Pizza. Burritos. Ice cream. Every flavor. Every brand. Pack the system's stasis storage with enough saturated fat to feed a bunker of war criminals.
2. Visit all of William’s *legitimate* gum selling businesses. Military surplus stores, grocery stores, and retail malls.
3. Ransack every Salvatore-owned grocery chain and food warehouse. Take the frozen meat, the fresh produce, the dried goods, the imported oils, and all the soda.
4. Go to the warehouse where all her earlier purchases were shipped. Everything she used the black credit card to order should be waiting. It was time to collect.
5. Stockpile every hygiene and comfort product she could think of. She was a woman. She had needs. Makeup, conditioner, razors, toothpaste, perfume, tampons, dry shampoo. All of it.
6. Loot the family clothing chains. Take everything from winter gear to designer coats to steel-toed boots. In a few months, her powers would be so far beyond human concern that she could wear silk in a snowstorm if she wanted.
She thumbed the note closed and leaned back against the headrest.
Her thoughts drifted to what was coming.
She remembered the first waves of the apocalypse. The sea life mutating. Crawling onto land in search of not humans—but zombie cores. That nucleus energy will fed everything eventually.
Crabs the size of cars. Jellyfish that floated like balloons, paralyzing prey with whispers. Abyssal fish with teeth that shimmered.
And the plants?
Monstrous in size. Faster than the animals. A single mutated root system could wipe out an entire region. Forests turned into bone graveyards. Trees grew fangs and swallowed survivors whole. Anything with meat was prey weather they are humans or zombies.
It was hell for the weak.
But paradise for the strong.
And humans?
"We’re cockroaches with ambition," Raven whispered. "We’ll survive anything."
She sat up straighter.
“System,” she said. “Exit Sanctuary. Return me to the secluded trail.”
The wind changed.
The landscape of Sanctuary folded, warped, and vanished. Her body didn’t move, but everything around her shifted. The trees dissolved, the grass retracted, and the lakes melted into a soft white glow.
In an instant, she was back.
The wooded pull-off road just outside the city.
Cold January wind scraped across the glass. The Ironhowl returned to the real world. Sitting in silence. No tracks. No new footprints. Just a hushed forest and frost-slick mud around her SUV.
Raven started the engine.
The rumble calmed her.
She drove toward the heart of New York—not the city, but the sprawl of industrial parks and corporate warehouses that ringed the outer commercial districts.
A full hour passed before she pulled into the cracked asphalt lot of the warehouse she’d designated for her deliveries.
Join my patreon today to read up to chapter 58 in advance your support is my inspiration join for only 3 to 5$
www./everstone