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#R18
#APOCALYPSE
#ENEMIESTOLOVERS

Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late. I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan— “Mommy?” I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.” “Mommy!” I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?” He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?” I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside. I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game. Well, we may just survive this mess after all. Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes. I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival. For Leo and me. Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

QuillMistress · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
146 Chs
#R18
#APOCALYPSE
#ENEMIESTOLOVERS
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102

Zara wiped the sweat from her brow, trying to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting.

After the strange encounter with the man, the unease that settled deep in Zara's chest hadn't loosened its grip. She looked down at her son, his wide eyes darting around nervously. He had noticed something strange about the man too, she could tell.

Clara glanced at Zara as they worked, her brow furrowing slightly. "You okay? You've looked a little off all day."

Zara stiffened, fingers pausing in the dirt. She hadn't expected Clara to notice, but then again, the woman seemed perceptive. She was friendly, maybe even kind, but Zara had only known her for two days. That wasn't nearly enough time to trust her with what was really on her mind.

So she deflected. "Didn't get much rest last night," she murmured, shaking loose a clump of dirt from the plant she was replanting. "That's all."