Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse
Chapter 57: How Do You Want To Die?

Chapter 57: How Do You Want To Die?

"I really thought you were losing your mind, putting in an order for winter clothes in O City, but I stand corrected," chuckled Mathis ’Bishop’ Duhon as he looked at Dante.

Dante looked up from the paperwork he was reviewing, raising an eyebrow as he stared down Bishop. "I take it the snow has started?"

"It’s been snowing for a few hours now," confirmed Bishop as he adjusted the cuff of his bright red dress shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie, unlike Dante, but some habits were hard to break. "What’s next?"

"Nothing," replied Dante, throwing the paperwork onto his desk as he rose to his feet. "It’s only going to be worse from here. We’ll continue doing what we are doing, and when the snow stops, go out for supplies."

"More supplies? Really?" asked Bishop, flabbergasted. "I’m pretty sure that the building will collapse if we get any more supplies."

"You’ve been spoiled," chuckled Dante, pouring himself a glass of bourbon as he stared out of the window at the snowflakes. It was almost deceptive, the white fluffy flakes that seemed so innocent.

The outside looked like a snow globe as the morning sun tried to pierce through the clouds, but Dante knew just how deadly the next three weeks were going to be.

"In this new age, supplies are life," he continued as if he hadn’t been lost in his thoughts a moment ago. "And in our case, supplies are also money."

Bishop chuckled as he watched his boss. Dante Leone had risen through the ranks of being a nobody to being one of the most feared rulers of the underworld. No one knew where he came from, but that didn’t seem to matter.

If he said jump, you did, or you died.

He also had a thing about predicting the future that was almost as uncanny as his ability to make money.

When he started building this skyrise five years ago, designing every component himself, everyone scratched their heads. No King needed a place like this to conduct business. It was too flashy, too obvious for law enforcement.

But Dante wasn’t dissuaded.

And when those who helped to build his lair started mysteriously disappearing... nobody was dumb enough to ask questions.

There were a few floors for their soldiers to live on, but only those closest to Dante got the upper floors.

Mind you, climbing up and down those floors all the time was beginning to be a pain in the ass.

"How are they coming with installing the solar panels?" asked Dante, turning away from the window and looking at Bishop again.

Just as the man was about to respond, his radio crackled. "Bishop," grunted Tank, clearly not having a good time. "Get someone to come take my place."

Rolling his eyes, Bishop clicked the button to reply. "No," he said, not at all impressed at the request. He knew that no one wanted to be out in the snow, but Dante wanted the front gate guarded at all times, and now it was Tank’s turn. "Your shift is done in another four hours. I don’t care how cold you are; deal with it."

Bishop shared a look with Dante, almost picturing Tank’s response. But too bad, so sad. In Dante’s world, you did what you were told when you were told.

And being part of his inner circle wasn’t enough to stop him from killing you when he wanted to.

The radio crackled again, surprising Bishop. Usually, Tank was the most easygoing of the inner circle. He didn’t talk a lot but was always calm unless Dante unleashed him.

"You can either get someone to take over for me, or my post will be left empty. Your choice," snarled Tank before the connection went dead.

Dante looked at Bishop before grabbing his coat from where it lay over the back of a chair. "Something tells me that we are going to want to see what had Tank so... off."

Bishop snorted, taking his own coat and quickly putting it on. "Off is an understatement. I think hell might have actually frozen over for him to respond like that. Are your instincts tingling?"

"No," grunted Dante, not at all impressed with that fact. He had tried to keep everything as close to the old timeline of his last life as possible to prevent things like this from happening. But he knew as soon as he built his base, everything would be thrown for a loop.

He just wished he had some idea of what he was walking into.

-----

"I don’t want to get you into trouble," I said as the guard in front of me picked me up and carried me on his arm. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but smile. He even carried me like Dimitri did.

"Something tells me that you are nothing but trouble," grumbled the massive giant as he strolled away from the gate. He felt like a brick shit house, his massive shoulders somewhat hidden under rough material.

He must be wearing a winter jacket or something because he seemed to be more squishy than he should have been.

"I promise that I am only trouble when people want me to be," I assured him. If there were people here, then there would be wishes. If I wanted to be here for a while, then I needed to make friends.

"Uh-huh," grunted the guard as his long strides ate up the ground under him. "I have to get you inside before any of the others see you."

"I’m sorry," I replied, a bit hurt. It wasn’t my fault I looked like I did, and I didn’t exactly want to be hidden away from everyone. I lived like that for too long to want to keep going.

"Don’t be," sighed the giant, his chest expanding with his breath. "You are like a little lamb in a den of wolves. If I’m not careful, you are going to be eaten alive."

"Hardly," I assured him. "I’m much more durable than I look, I promise. Plus I probably taste bad."

The guard chuckled, his shoulders moving up and down under my hand. "Sure, Lamb, you keep believing that."

"You’re away from your post," growled a voice in front of me, cutting off the guard’s laughter. "How do you want to die?"

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