Day 9 Post-Announcement. Thirty-eight days until impact.
Marcus left the house at 5:15 AM, driving Jake's truck again. The pre-dawn darkness was absolute, the streetlights having failed sometime during the night. Power outages were becoming more common as utility workers abandoned their posts, choosing to spend their final days with family rather than maintaining infrastructure that wouldn't matter in a month.
The roads were eerily empty. Marcus saw only three other vehicles during the first thirty minutes of driving. One was a moving truck packed to the ceiling with belongings. Another was a police cruiser, its lights off, the officer inside looking exhausted even from a distance. The third was a motorcycle loaded with supplies, the rider wearing what looked like military gear and a gas mask.
The world was preparing. Everyone who could was taking action.
The coordinates Margaret had sent led to an old industrial park on the outskirts of a small town Marcus had never heard of. As he approached, he could see the glow of generator-powered lights illuminating a large warehouse. Even from a distance, he could see the crowd - dozens of vehicles, maybe a hundred people, all converging on the building
Marcus parked at the edge of the lot and took a moment to assess the situation. The crowd was orderly, mostly. People were forming lines, carrying cash and lists, looking determined but not yet desperate. But he could feel the tension in the air, the barely-restrained panic that could tip into violence at any moment.
He'd brought one of the Glock 19s, concealed in a holster under his jacket. He'd also brought his tactical vest under his coat, just in case. Margaret's warning echoed in his mind: be careful.
As Marcus approached the warehouse entrance, he noticed armed guards - four men with hunting rifles, wearing improvised tactical gear. They weren't military or police. Just civilians who'd decided to take security into their own hands.
"Cash only," one of the guards announced to the crowd. "No credit cards, no checks, no IOUs. You buy what you can carry. You come back for more, we charge double the second time. Those are the rules."
Marcus joined the line. The man in front of him was older, maybe sixties, with a thick beard and nervous eyes.
"First time?" the man asked.
"Yeah. You?"
"Third. I've been coming every other day since they opened. Stocking my cabin in the mountains." He lowered his voice. "Don't trust the government shelters. Too many people, not enough supplies. Better to take care of yourself."
"My thinking exactly."
"You got family?"
"Sister and her family. Six people total."
The man nodded approvingly. "Good. You're smart to get them together. I've got just me and my wife. Easier with fewer people, but lonelier."
The line moved forward. As they got closer to the entrance, Marcus could see inside the warehouse. It was like a post-apocalyptic Costco - pallets of supplies stacked to the ceiling, people pushing shopping carts loaded with food, water, equipment. Everything was priced, and everything was expensive. A case of canned soup that normally cost $15 was marked at $75. A 50-pound bag of rice: $200.
"Price gouging," the old man muttered. "But what are you gonna do? They've got what we need."
Marcus did quick math in his head. He'd brought $10,000 in cash. At these prices, that would buy... not nearly as much as he'd hoped.
But he was here now. Might as well see what they had.
Inside, the warehouse was controlled chaos. People moved purposefully through aisles, grabbing items, checking prices, making hard choices about what they could afford and carry. Marcus grabbed a shopping cart and started methodically working through his mental list.
Priority 1: Food
Rice: 4 bags, 200 pounds total ($800)
Dried beans: 6 bags, 120 pounds total ($720)
Canned vegetables: 10 cases ($900)
Canned meat: 8 cases ($960)
Powdered milk: 12 containers ($600)
Cooking oil: 6 gallons ($180)
Salt and sugar: 50 pounds each ($200)
Priority 2: Medical
Antibiotics (various types): $1,200
Pain medications: $300
First aid supplies: $400
Vitamins and supplements: $250
Priority 3: Tools and Equipment
Hand tools (axes, saws, hammers): $500
Rope and cordage: $150
Duct tape and adhesives: $200
Batteries (various sizes): $400
Marcus was at $7,760 before he'd even made it halfway through the warehouse. His cart was overflowing. He needed a second one.
As he grabbed another cart, he noticed a section he hadn't seen before - labeled "SPECIALTY ITEMS." Curious, he wheeled over to investigate.
What he found made him stop cold.
Seeds. Thousands of seed packets. Not just common vegetables, but rare varieties, heirloom strains, crops specifically selected for cold-weather growing or high-yield production. There was even a section labeled "Survival Garden Kits" - complete collections of seeds chosen specifically for long-term survival scenarios.
Marcus immediately started grabbing packets. Tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, carrots, potatoes, squash, beans, peas. Herbs for flavor and medicine. Even grain seeds - wheat, barley, oats.
The specialty seeds were expensive - $10 to $25 per packet. But they were worth it. These could mean the difference between barely surviving and actually thriving underground.
He spent another $1,800 on seeds.
Near the seeds, he found something else valuable: books. Agricultural manuals, medical guides, engineering references, survival handbooks. Knowledge that would be priceless once the internet was gone and Google was just a memory.
Another $400 on books.
He was at $9,960. He had $40 left.
Marcus looked at his two overflowing carts and made a decision. He found one of the warehouse workers. "I need to buy more. Significantly more. But I can't carry it all. Do you do delivery?"
The worker, a young guy with a shaved head and suspicious eyes, shook his head. "Cash and carry only."
"I'll pay extra. A lot extra."
The guy paused. "How much more?"
"I've got another ten thousand in my truck. I'll give you five hundred of it if you help me load everything and don't ask questions."
The worker thought about it. "Let me talk to my boss."
Five minutes later, Marcus was negotiating with the warehouse manager - a hard-looking woman in her forties with tattoos covering both arms.
"You want to make multiple purchases?" she asked.
"Yes. I need to max out what I can take. I'll pay the double rate for multiple trips, plus I'll pay your worker to help me load."
She considered. "Normally, we don't allow that. But..." She looked at him carefully. "You're building a shelter, aren't you? Private bunker?"
Marcus hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."
"Good. Smart. Here's what I'll do. You can make three purchases today instead of the normal one. But third purchase is triple rate, not double. And you pay my guy a thousand to help you load and keep his mouth shut. Deal?"
It was highway robbery. But Marcus didn't have a choice. "Deal."
Over the next two hours, Marcus systematically emptied his truck fund. He bought:
Second Load:
More rice and beans (200 pounds of each): $1,600
Freeze-dried meals (50 packages): $1,500
Water purification tablets (1,000 tablets): $600
Propane tanks (6 large tanks): $900
More medical supplies: $800
Winter clothing and blankets: $1,200
Solar chargers and battery banks: $800
Hand-crank emergency radio: $150
Total: $7,550
Third Load (at triple rate):
Premium seed collection: $1,800
Rare antibiotics and medications: $2,400
Advanced water filtration components: $1,500
Chemical supplies for sanitation: $900
More books and reference materials: $600
Specialized tools: $1,200
Total: $8,400
Grand total spent: $25,710
The truck was packed to capacity. The supplies were piled so high in the truck bed that Marcus had to secure everything with multiple tarps and bungee cords.
As he was finishing the loading, the warehouse worker - whose name was Pete - pulled him aside.
"Hey, man. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"That shelter you're building. You got room for one more?"
Marcus felt his chest tighten. He'd known this question would keep coming. "I'm sorry. We're at capacity. Six people maximum."
Pete nodded, disappointment clear on his face. "Yeah. I figured. Just... had to ask, you know? My girlfriend and I, we're trying to figure out what to do. The government shelters are all full. We don't have money to build our own place. We're probably just... fucked."
Marcus pulled out Margaret's card - he'd made copies. "Try this woman. She's building a shelter about sixty miles from here. I can't promise anything, but she might have space or at least advice."
Pete took the card gratefully. "Thanks, man. Every little bit helps. And hey, good luck. Hope that shelter of yours works."
"You too."
As Marcus drove away from the warehouse, he felt the weight of survivor's guilt settling on his shoulders again. How many people like Pete were out there? Decent people, not criminals or monsters, just ordinary folks who didn't have the resources or knowledge to save themselves?
Millions. Probably billions worldwide.
And he couldn't help them. All he could do was save his own family and hope that somehow, somewhere, enough people survived to rebuild.
The drive back was slower - the truck was heavily loaded and he had to drive carefully. He made it home by 11:30 AM.
Jake's crew was already working. The foundation had cured enough to begin installing the interior wall frames. Workers were welding steel beams, setting up the structure that would divide the shelter into separate rooms.
Lisa came out to help unload. Her eyes widened when she saw the quantity of supplies.
"Marcus, this is... this is so much."
"It's still not enough," he replied. "But it's progress."
They spent the next hour unloading and organizing. Emma helped by sorting the seed packets, reading the labels carefully and arranging them by type. Jack mostly got in the way but was enthusiastic about "helping."
David was impressed by the medical supplies. "This is more comprehensive than I expected. You've got antibiotics, pain meds, even some surgical supplies."
"We need to be prepared for anything," Marcus said. "If someone gets seriously sick or injured after the impact, we can't just call 911. We're on our own."
As they finished organizing, the system chimed.
[Achievement Unlocked: Critical Resource Threshold]
[Food supplies exceed 3-year minimum for maximum occupancy]
[Medical supplies sufficient for basic healthcare]
[Survival Points: +25]
[Current Total: 111 SP]
Marcus felt a surge of satisfaction. He'd crossed the threshold. He had enough points for his first major upgrade.
He focused on the Blueprint menu, specifically on the Advanced Air Filtration System.
[Advanced Air Filtration System Mk.I]
[Cost: 100 Survival Points + Required Materials]
[Required Materials:]
Industrial HEPA filters (Available)
Medical-grade air circulation equipment (Available)
CO2 scrubbing chemicals (Available)
Humidity control systems (Available)
Custom fabrication components (Available in workshop)
[Benefits:]
Air quality improvement: 300%
CO2 removal efficiency: 95%
Oxygen recycling capability: Moderate
Reduced power consumption: 40%
Extended filter lifespan: 2x normal
Automated failure detection and alerts
[Installation Time: 2 days with current crew]
[Proceed with upgrade? Y/N]
Marcus hesitated for only a moment before selecting Yes.
[Upgrade Initiated]
[Survival Points: 111 → 11]
[Blueprint Downloaded to Host Knowledge]
Suddenly, Marcus's mind flooded with information. He understood, instinctively and completely, how to build the advanced air system. The exact specifications, the precise assembly procedures, the optimal configuration for the shelter's specific dimensions. It was like he'd been an HVAC engineer for twenty years, like the knowledge had always been there.
He also knew, somehow, that the materials he had weren't quite right. They'd work, but the system was showing him improvements. Small modifications he could make. Better ways to arrange the components. Optimizations that would squeeze out even more efficiency.
Marcus grabbed his laptop and started sketching. His hands moved with confidence he didn't feel, drawing schematics that looked professional, detailed, perfect. Jake found him an hour later, completely absorbed in the work.
"Marcus? What are you working on?"
Marcus looked up, realizing he'd lost track of time. "I had an idea. For improving the air system. Look."
He showed Jake the schematics. Jake studied them, his expression shifting from curious to impressed to confused.
"Marcus, this is... this is really advanced. Where did you learn this?"
"I've been doing research. Online tutorials, engineering forums, that kind of thing."
Jake looked skeptical. "This looks like professional-grade HVAC engineering. You're a software guy."
"Skills transfer," Marcus said quickly. "Systems thinking, logical flow, optimization algorithms. It's not that different."
Jake didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "Okay. If you can actually build this, it would be amazing. This system would use forty percent less power than what we'd planned, and it actually recycles oxygen instead of just filtering it. That's... that's really impressive."
"I can build it. I just need the crew to help with installation."
"When?"
"The foundation is cured enough, right? We can start tomorrow."
Jake checked his tablet. "Yeah, we could start tomorrow. But Marcus, this is going to take time. Two, maybe three days to install properly. That's time we could be spending on other critical systems."
"This IS critical. We can't survive without air. Everything else is secondary."
Jake studied him for a long moment. "Alright. I'll reassign the crew. We'll start first thing tomorrow morning."
That evening, Marcus gathered everyone again. This time, he brought out the firearms.
"Tonight, we're going to learn the basics," he said. "Just familiarization. Understanding how they work, how to handle them safely. Tomorrow, we'll go to a range and actually practice."
Lisa was still uncomfortable, but she nodded. David stepped forward immediately, picking up one of the AR-15s with more confidence than Marcus expected.
"I did ROTC in college," David explained. "Never pursued military service, but I remember the basics
That made things easier. David already knew proper handling, the safety procedures, the basic operation. Marcus worked with him first, refreshing his knowledge, then they both helped Lisa.
She was reluctant, holding the rifle like it might explode. "I don't like this."
"I know," Marcus said gently. "But you need to know. Just in case."
"In case of what? In case we have to shoot someone?"
"In case you need to defend Emma and Jack. In case something happens to David and me. In case you're the last line of defense between our family and people who want to take what we have."
Lisa's expression hardened. "Okay. Show me."
They worked for two hours. Loading, unloading, aiming, safety procedures. By the end, Lisa could handle the rifle competently, if not comfortably. David was actually proficient - his muscle memory from college returning.
Marcus felt better. They weren't a tactical team, but they weren't helpless either.
At 11 PM, exhausted, Marcus did his final system check.
[Daily Summary - Day 9]
[Major Achievement: First Blueprint Implemented]
[Survival Points Earned Today: +25]
[Survival Points Spent: -100]
[Current Total: 11 SP]
[Construction Progress: 24% Complete]
[Resource Acquisition: Excellent Progress]
[Time Remaining: 37 days, 13 hours]
[New Recommendation: Install Advanced Air Filtration System]
[New Recommendation: Begin hydroponic system optimization]
[New Recommendation: Establish training schedule for all occupants]
[Warning: Social Stability Index Declining Rapidly]
[Warning: Supply Chain Collapse Predicted Within 14 Days]
[Warning: Recommend Accelerating All Timelines]
Marcus read the warnings with growing concern. The system was tracking things beyond just his shelter. It was monitoring the broader collapse of society. Fourteen days until the supply chain failed completely. That meant he had two weeks to get everything else he needed.
Two weeks to finish the shelter, stock it completely, and seal it tight.
Thirty-seven days until impact.
The clock kept ticking.
[To be continued...]