Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 208

Chapter 208: 208

The heavy steel door which had swung shut at some point, slammed open again.

Zara jumped, heart seizing in her chest. Leo pressed against her side, a soft whimper in his throat. Winter had already shifted into a defensive stance, body tensed, ready to launch himself at the threat.

But it wasn’t soldiers.

"Ima?" Winter breathed.

Zara’s knees nearly buckled as the familiar faces burst into the room.

"Winter!" Miles’s voice cracked as he crossed the space in hurried steps and wrapped his arms tightly around his stunned friend.

Winter clung to him, surprise colouring his voice as he hugged back. "You’re here...?"

Miles held on a second longer before stepping back just enough to examine him, his hands gripping Winter’s shoulders. "We came as fast as we could. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I’m okay." Winter’s eyes darted to Zara. "They’re okay, too. We’re—"

"I’m fine," Zara interrupted, though her voice trembled.

Leo’s small arms wrapped around her neck as he peeked at these new people.

"Are they gonna take me again?" he whispered into her shoulder.

"Not anymore, sweetheart," she murmured, burying her face in his hair.

"Here." Ima crouched beside them, eyes flicking over Leo and Zara, then back to Leo again. "No blood. That’s good. You’re a tough one, huh?"

Leo sniffled and nodded.

Zara finally looked up at the strangers. She recognized Ima vaguely from the one time they met in City H’s main base before shit hit the fan and they were moved to Sector 2.

but Miles was completely unfamiliar. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"I don’t know you," she said cautiously.

"That’s Miles," Winter said quickly. "He’s—he’s a part of my team from before all this." He gestured vaguely.

All this likely meant before the apocalypse.

Zara nodded slowly, accepting that—for now.

Mike was pacing near the door, peeking out into the hallway. "We don’t have long. This sector’s still semi-clear, but the alarms are moving inward. They’re locking down each floor."

"Right." Ima turned to Winter and Zara. "We saw them grab you two. Couldn’t risk going in guns blazing, so we followed quietly. They were taking you to Isolation, we think."

"We were already planning a way out," Miles added, glancing toward Winter. "That plan of yours—we started putting it in motion right after you left. Naomi and the kids are with Mike and Sam, sweeping the central corridor near the walls. They’re trying to find a way to the main exit. We’re supposed to link up with them."

Zara looked from one face to the next, still catching up. "You’ve been—planning this?"

Winter nodded. "Yeah, forgot to tell you. Kinda hard not to when we were fighting for our lives in the tunnels."

More voices overlapped now—fast, urgent, and messy.

"We don’t have long—"

"They’re sealing the east side—"

"Guards are sweeping the halls—"

"We have to get to Sector 2—"

Zara took a breath, steadying the shotgun in her hands.

Miles gestured. "Let’s move."

The group broke into motion, footsteps thudding down metal corridors.

As they turned a corner, footsteps pounded ahead. A team of guards, four of them in full black gear, rifles raised.

"DOWN!" Miles yelled, firing the first shot.

It slammed into the lead guard’s shoulder, spinning him with a spray of red. The others dropped low, returning fire.

Zara pushed Leo into the alcove behind a crate, stepping out just enough to aim.

She fired.

The shotgun blast roared through the narrow corridor, blowing the second guard off his feet. Winter dropped beside her, grabbing a pistol off a dead man’s belt.

"Three left!" Ima shouted, ducking behind a pillar.

Miles vaulted forward, unloading a burst of rounds that forced the guards to dive. One tried to flank—but Winter spotted him and fired twice. Both shots hit center mass.

Zara pumped the shotgun again. A guard raised his rifle—but she was faster.

The last one screamed and went down.

Silence returned, filled with the sound of breathing, too fast and too loud.

"You okay?" Winter asked her.

She nodded. "I’m fine. Leo?"

"I’m okay," Leo called shakily from behind the crate.

Miles bent over one of the fallen guards, searching him. "This one’s still breathing."

"Don’t kill him," Winter said quickly. "Wait—" He crouched beside the man. "Where’s the storage vault for confiscated weapons?"

The guard coughed, groaning.

"Tell me," Winter snapped. "There’s a rifle. Custom. Engraved. Where is it?"

The man’s eyes fluttered open. "Vault B," he wheezed. "East hall... across from Med Bay. Red door."

Winter stood. "That’s mine. I’m getting it."

"Do we have time for that?" Zara asked.

He met her eyes. "We need that rifle. It’s not just sentimental—it’s.." he looked around, eyes narrowing. "It’s something we’ll talk about later. I need to get it. We’ll be sitting ducks on open ground without it."

Miles nodded. "We split for it. Fast. I’ll go with you."

Zara glanced at Leo, then back toward the halls ahead. "We’ll keep moving toward Sector 2. Take the next hallway, cut through the barracks, and we should get there."

Ima looked unsure. "Splitting up—"

"We’ll move fast and quiet," Zara said. She loved Winter but couldn’t risk keeping Leo in this place any longer. Adrian was bound to realise that they weren’t in their holding cells any longer. "It’s the only way."

Winter hesitated, then reached out and squeezed Zara’s arm. "Keep him safe."

She nodded.

Miles checked his clip. "Let’s move."

Winter and Miles peeled off to the left, sprinting down a side corridor.

Zara turned to Leo. "Keep your head down, baby. Ima, you ready?"

"Always."

They pressed on, stepping over bodies and ducking past flickering emergency lights.

*****

Winter and Miles reached the red door ten minutes later, ducking behind a toppled desk as two guards ran past.

"Vault’s there," Miles whispered. "You think it’s alarmed?"

"Only one way to find out."

Winter kicked the door open.

Inside: shelves, crates, and lockers stacked with confiscated gear. Weapons glittered under the dim ceiling lights.

"There." Winter moved fast, hands flying over tags until—"Got it."

He yanked the rifle from a rack—a long matte-black beauty, modified barrel, custom scope, and his name etched into the side.

"You romantic," Miles muttered.

Winter grinned and cocked it, loading a fresh mag from the nearby crate. "Ready."

Just then, the alarm blared.

"SHIT!"

"Let’s go!"

They ran.

Behind them, red lights flared and boots thundered. Voices shouted. More guards were coming.

Winter spun mid-run, dropped to one knee, and fired.

The shot tore through the nearest guard’s leg, dropping him screaming. Miles lobbed a flash grenade from his vest—it exploded in a burst of white.

They ran harder, sprinting back toward the rendezvous point.

*****

Zara ducked as another bullet whizzed past her ear. "Leo, DOWN! Stay right behind me!"

She grabbed his hand, yanking him into a crouch behind a support beam. Her free hand raised her sidearm—tight grip, quick breath—and fired twice. Sharp cracks rang out as one of the guards dropped near the railing, his rifle clattering down the stairs.

"Don’t let go of me," she murmured to Leo, pressing him against the wall with her leg while her eyes scanned the hallway.

Ima was already moving—silent and deadly—her blade flashing as she slashed a man across the throat. Blood sprayed, and the body collapsed without a sound.

"We’re close!" Ima called, eyes flicking to the corridor up ahead.

The control room loomed—glass walls, flickering lights, and just beyond them, the checkpoint gate to Sector 2.

Zara tightened her grip on Leo’s hand and ran, half-dragging, half-carrying him. Her sidearm fired again—one shot, two—striking another soldier in the leg as he tried to turn his rifle toward them.

The man screamed and fell, and Zara didn’t look back.

They reached the control panel.

Zara shoved Leo behind her and emptied three bullets into the keypad. Sparks burst from the console, and the door mechanism gave a metallic groan.

"Ima, override!"

"I’m trying!" Ima snapped, crouched over the damaged panel and yanking open the exposed wires with her blade.

Footsteps thundered behind them. Voices—too many, too fast.

Zara spun around, Leo clinging to the hem of her coat.

Three soldiers burst into view.

She shoved Leo back again, stepped in front of him, and fired.

Her first shot took the lead guard in the shoulder. He staggered—but not enough.

Then a louder shot cracked the air—crisp, sharp, perfect.

The guard’s head snapped back. He dropped before his body realized he was dead.

Winter’s voice rang out: "CLEAR!"

He and Miles charged down the hall, Winter’s rifle already up, locked, and firing.

Another guard dropped with a hole through his chest. The third ducked for cover, but Miles flanked him fast, firing two rounds into the man’s side.

Bodies fell. The corridor fell still again.

Winter slid to Zara’s side, panting. "Told you getting this thing was worth it."

Zara stared. "You love that thing more than people."

"Gun’s never betrayed me," he said without missing a beat.

Leo tugged at Zara’s sleeve. "Can we go now?"

"Yes, baby," she said softly. "We’re going."

They emerged from the room into another hallway—darker, quieter. The chaos was louder behind them now, distant. They pressed forward toward Sector 2.

But then—more voices. Footsteps.

"Too many," Miles muttered.

They turned a corner—and froze. Half a dozen guards were ahead, searching the halls with flashlights.

"Back!" Ima hissed.

They doubled back, slipping into a side passage just as the light swept over where they’d stood. Winter yanked open a narrow maintenance door and ushered them inside.

The room was tight, barely bigger than a closet. Tool benches and old chemical drums lined the walls. The air was heavy with oil and dust.

Everyone was breathing hard.

Zara leaned against the wall, holding Leo close. His small hands trembled in hers.

Winter stood by the door, listening. His new rifle sat against his leg, ready.

"We’re not out yet," he said quietly.

"But we will be," Ima replied, crouching to check the ammo in her belt. "We have to be."

Outside, the footsteps faded.

But everyone knew it was only the eye of the storm.