Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 147

Chapter 147: 147

The moment Winter stepped out of the truck, his gut twisted.

The place looked like a goddamn horror film.

Dried blood smeared the concrete like grotesque murals, leading streaks toward darkened corridors. The air reeked of rot and rust, even through their filters. Flickering overhead lights cast long, distorted shadows, making the wreckage seem alive.

Debris littered the ground—shattered equipment, overturned desks, weapons discarded in desperation. Bullet holes riddled the walls, some surrounded by old, dried handprints.

"Jesus," someone muttered.

Harlow surveyed the destruction, exhaling sharply. "We called this a stronghold once."

"Not anymore," Winter murmured.

Harlow shook himself and straightened. "Well, what’s done is done. We are splitting into three groups."

He turned to the gathered soldiers, his voice firm. "Alright everyone, just as we discussed! First team—your priority is checking for bodies. Human remains, our people, anyone left behind. We tag and bag them, and if you find anything... unnatural, call it in immediately. No one acts alone."

A few soldiers stiffened but nodded grimly.

"Second team—structural assessment. I want a full report on what’s still standing and what can be salvaged. If it’s too unstable, mark it for demolition. If it’s useful, secure it. We’re not leaving behind anything we can still use."

The second group exchanged looks before breaking off.

Harlowe’s gaze swept the remaining soldiers. "Third team, you’re on debris clearance. Make a path. If we’re coming back, we need to move freely, and if we’re abandoning this place for good, we make sure there’s nothing left behind that can be used against us."

Winter adjusted his gloves, eyes scanning the ruined base. "Stay sharp. If something was left behind, it’s either dead or waiting."

The soldiers fanned out.

Some began clearing rooms, others taking note of what could be salvaged. Every so often, a distant clang echoed through the ruins, making some twitch, fingers tightening around their triggers.

Winter ignored it and focused on the real problem. Zara had said her premonition told her the things came from inside the base. His talk with Bale earlier confirmed that something was definitely up with the base. Now that they were here, there was only one place he needed to check out.

He motioned to Harlowe. "Let’s check the restricted labs."

Harlowe raised a brow. "You think they got in from there?"

Winter’s expression was unreadable beneath his mask. "We’ll find out."

They approached the sealed lab doors, only to freeze at the sight of guards standing in front of them.

That wasn’t right.

Winter exchanged a glance with Harlow.

Harlowe stepped forward first. "Since when do we have men stationed here?"

One of the guards straightened. "Orders from command."

Harlowe scoffed. "Command? I am command. No one cleared this with me."

The guard hesitated. That alone was an answer.

Winter’s eyes flickered to the second guard—standing too still, gripping his weapon too tight. That kind of tension meant something.

Winter spoke calmly. "Who gave the order?"

"Higher-ups."

Harlowe’s patience snapped. "That’s not an answer."

The guard’s jaw tightened. "It’s all you’re getting."

Winter turned his attention to the stationed soldiers nearby. Some of them had been here during the attack. He singled one out—a wiry man shifting on his feet.

"You were here that night."

The soldier flinched. "Y-yeah."

Winter’s stare didn’t waver. "What happened?"

The soldier’s fingers twitched. "We—we held the line, but..." He swallowed. "One of us went missing. We don’t know where he went."

Winter’s gut twisted. "Who?"

The soldier hesitated.

Harlowe sighed. "Look, we don’t have time for games—"

Winter interrupted. "Where did he go?"

The nervous soldier shifted again. "He—he just vanished before the breach. One second he was there, the next..." His voice trailed off.

Winter narrowed his eyes. "And you didn’t report that?"

The soldier swallowed hard.

Something was wrong.

Winter stepped closer, lowering his voice. "What are you hiding?"

The soldier’s hands clenched. "Nothing."

Winter studied him—too rigid, too afraid. He was lying.

Then the soldier slipped.

"We aren’t hiding anything. We are doing our assigned duties. The gate just wasn’t supposed to open."

Silence.

Winter’s pulse spiked.

Harlowe frowned. "What?"

The soldier realized his mistake too late. The other soldier beside him tensed as well.

Winter’s voice was like ice. "What do you mean it wasn’t supposed to open?"

The soldier’s breath came faster. "I—I didn’t—"

Winter stepped in, voice sharp. "Who told you? Who ordered it?"

"I didn’t do anything! As I said, we just stood here as we were told!"

The words tumbled out in a panicked rush.

Winter grabbed his arm. "Who—"

A gunshot.

Blood sprayed.

"Shit!" Winter grunted as he was tackled to the ground by Harlowe.

The soldier crumpled.

A single bullet, straight through his skull.

For a second, there was silence and only the echoes of the bullet remained.

Chaos erupted.

The gunshot still rang in Winter’s ears as soldiers scrambled for cover, some shouting, others snapping their weapons up, scanning the ruined base for a shooter. Boots scuffed against debris, metal clanged in the distance—every sound too loud, too sharp.

Winter barely had a second to react before Harlow yanked him down behind a toppled steel beam. "Get down, damn it!"

Winter shoved him off. "I’m fine," he snapped, already pushing up to scan the area. His eyes locked onto the fallen soldier—blood pooling beneath his skull, mouth still parted in shock.

"Sniper?" Harlow muttered, ducking lower.

"Too close for a sniper," Winter growled. His gaze darted to the stationed guards. "Lock it down. No one in or out."

One of the guards—the one standing beside the dead man—staggered back, face pale. His hands shot up in surrender. "I didn’t—I didn’t—!"

Winter’s jaw clenched. The panic was real, but the fear wasn’t for himself. It was for whoever had just pulled the trigger.

He turned on the remaining guards, who looked just as uncertain. A few exchanged wary glances, fingers shifting against their weapons. They hadn’t expected this.

Winter didn’t give them time to think. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest one by his vest and slamming him against the cracked wall.

"Who ordered this?" His voice was sharp as a blade. "Who’s pulling the strings?"

The guard stiffened. "I don’t know."

"Bullshit." Winter shoved him harder. "That soldier slipped up—he said the gate wasn’t supposed to open. Who was supposed to keep it closed?"

The guard clenched his jaw.

Winter twisted his grip, forcing him to look at the corpse on the floor. "Whoever you’re protecting just silenced him. Which means you’re next if you don’t start talking."

The man’s breath stuttered, but he stayed silent.

"Check the rooftops," Harlow barked to the nearest team leader. "Any vantage points. I want to know where that shot came from—now."

"Yes, sir!" Soldiers broke off, scanning the ruins with trained eyes.

Winter turned back to the guard, watching for cracks. His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

"I don’t know anything!" The guard’s voice was desperate, but Winter caught it—just for a second. That flicker of hesitation.

And where did his gaze land?

The sealed lab doors.

Winter’s eyes narrowed. So there was something in there.

Harlow followed his stare and made the call. "Screw it. We’re opening the lab."

The guards immediately shifted, stepping in front of the doors, gripping their weapons tighter. Their stance wasn’t aggressive—it was defensive.

They were afraid.

Winter levelled his gun at them. "Move."

No one did.

His tone dropped, ice-cold.

"Or I make you move."

Winter let the silence stretch, watching them sweat. If they weren’t under orders to kill, then what were they afraid of?

Harlow took a slow step forward. "You can stand down, or I make you stand down. Your choice."

A muscle twitched in one guard’s jaw. "You don’t understand."

Winter’s fingers flexed against his gun. Wrong answer. He shot in the air, making the men flinch.

"Jesus, Steele!" Harlowe hissed, glaring at Winter.

"The next one won’t miss."

"We don’t know what’s behind the door, but we know we aren’t to allow anyone in." One of the guards stuttered. "You’re military, right? You know how orders work!"

"Not when the world is possibly at stake if I follow those orders." Winter glared.

Harlowe grunted, tired of the back and forth. "Screw this. We’re opening the lab."

The guards immediately snapped their rifles up.

"Stand down!" The lead guard’s voice cracked. "You can’t open that door!"

The second one—young, too young—let out a strangled breath. "Please."

Harlow froze. Winter’s grip on his gun tightened.

Please.

That single word wasn’t defiance. It was desperation.

Winter’s stomach turned. The air inside the ruined base had felt cold since they arrived, but suddenly, it felt suffocating.

He didn’t lower his weapon. "Why?"

No answer.

Harlow didn’t wait. He raised a hand, motioning for the demolition unit.

"Override the locks."

One of the men standing on the side, a tech specialist, rushed forward, planting a hacking device against the keypad. The lock’s interface blinked red, then yellow, then—

A hiss.

The security clamps were released.

The guards backed away.

Winter exhaled.

Then he reached for the door...