Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son-Chapter 229 - 29

The air in the radio station was thick—no mist, no smoke, just pressure. The kind that made your ears buzz and your thoughts crawl.

Everyone was awake. No one spoke loudly. Leo clung to Zara’s hip, head buried against her collarbone. She rubbed small, slow circles into his back like she could anchor him to something safer than this.

Winter stood at the window, his eyes locked on the line of matte-painted trucks just beyond the treeline. Clean vehicles. No rust. Tires barely worn. And the men—

Zara didn’t need to see them clearly to know they weren’t scavengers.

"This is Captain Elias Rivas of the Coalition Forces," came a voice over loudspeaker, booming from the largest truck like a hammer dropped on glass. "You are inside a restricted perimeter. All civilians are to exit the building with their hands visible. Comply immediately or force will be used."

The air turned brittle. No one moved.

"Coalition?" Naomi repeated, squinting through the boarded window. "That can’t be right. Did any of them stay active after the apocalypse?"

"Unless someone rebranded the name," Winter said, jaw tight.

"They’ve got radio comms," Ima called from the hallway. "And regulated vehicles. Not scavenged. Those aren’t random mercs."

"No," Zara murmured, still rocking Leo, "they’re organized."

"These aren’t run-down highway patrol remnants," Mike added under his breath. "These bastards are military."

"And they showed up the morning after we let Arden’s people in," he finished with a cold glance.

Arden, crouched near the back wall with Henry in her lap, stiffened. "We didn’t bring them," she said. "We didn’t even know anyone was still running ops like this."

Miles looked at her, jaw flexed. "Bad timing."

"We’ve been underground for weeks," Arden insisted, voice tight with panic. "We saw your smoke. We wouldn’t... I wouldn’t put Henry in danger like that."

Zara looked between them, her throat dry. She didn’t want this to splinter now. Not when her son was trembling against her.

"They wouldn’t just open fire," Arden said, maybe to herself. "They’re soldiers."

"You don’t know that," Winter said sharply, eyes never leaving the window. The way he said it—like someone who did.

"Winter?" Zara asked quietly.

He inhaled once, deep, grounding. "We don’t have the numbers or the firepower. If we push back, we die. Everyone grab your bags. Only what you can carry."

"Seriously?" Mike hissed. "You’re trusting soldiers?"

"I’m surviving soldiers," Winter snapped. "Big difference."

He turned to Zara. "Come on. Get what you need."

Zara nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Leo whimpered, sensing the tension like it buzzed through her bloodstream. "It’s okay, baby," she whispered, more to herself than him. Her hands moved automatically—bags already half-packed, rations counted and recounted, Leo’s ratty blanket folded too many times to count.

Naomi gathered Lila and Aren, murmuring calm things in a voice that barely wobbled. Marcus limped in from the hallway, blood-soaked bandages tight around his shoulder. They all moved quickly, like rehearsing for the moment no one wanted to believe would come.

Another burst of static.

"Final warning," the voice declared, more clipped this time. "Step outside with hands raised. This will be your only chance."

Winter opened the door.

They filed out slowly. One by one. Arms lifted. Mouths shut. The world outside was cool with dawn, but Zara felt no chill. Only that buzzing pressure behind her ears, like something just beyond the treeline was watching, waiting.

Leo clung tighter. She kissed his temple. "We’re okay," she lied.

The soldiers were lined up in front of their trucks—masks up, rifles in hand. But they weren’t aimed. That was somehow worse. Zara had seen twitchy barrels in the hands of desperate men. These weren’t twitchy.

These weren’t desperate.

But was that a good thing? She’d seen calm men kill before. Had only just escaped them.

Winter stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice clear. "We have no hidden weapons," he called. "Just what’s visible on our backs. We have children. We don’t want trouble."

Captain Rivas stepped down from the lead truck. He looked untouched. Clean boots, sharp posture, no dirt under his nails. Like the world hadn’t even tried to break him.

He raised a gloved hand. "We acknowledge your position. You will not be harmed, provided you follow protocol."

Protocol.

Zara hated that word.

It sounded too much like obedience. Like cages and curfews. Like surrender dressed in bureaucracy.

She held Leo tighter and met Winter’s glance. His nod was small but sure.

"Anyone else inside?" Rivas asked.

Winter answered flatly, "No."

"Hidden weapons?"

"Only what’s visible."

"You’re carrying children."

Zara tightened her grip on Leo. "That’s usually what happens when you have them."

Rivas didn’t look her way. "You’ll be coming with us. Intake begins at base perimeter."

Winter took a step forward. "We’re not here to cause trouble. We just want to keep moving."

"That’s not an option."

"We’re not signing up for your mission," Miles added, stepping beside Winter. "We’re not recruits. We’re just trying to stay alive."

Rivas tilted his head. "Then you’re doing a poor job. You’ve stumbled directly into restricted territory. You’re lucky we found you before something else did."

"You think we don’t know what’s out there?" Mike cut in.

"I think you’re delusional if you think you’ll last another week without help."

"We’ve lasted longer," Winter said coldly.

"But you’ve also got children now." Rivas’ gaze flicked to Leo and Lila. "And they won’t."

Zara’s stomach churned.

"We’re not your problem," Winter said.

"You are now. Your presence in this zone compromises safety. If you stay out here, you’ll die. That’s not speculation. That’s protocol. Mist breaches have increased. Scouts found another dead patrol outside the west gate two nights ago."

"Then let us go around," Zara said.

"You don’t go around the mist," another soldier said grimly. "It goes around you."

There was a heavy silence.

Kez shifted beside Arden. "So what—you’re kidnapping us?"

"You think out there is safer? Mist. Raiders. You’d bet a child’s life on pride?"

"We’re going to bet on choice," Winter said. "That’s all we have left."

A beat passed. Rifles didn’t rise, but tension thickened like mud. The soldiers hadn’t moved, but every finger was on a trigger guard. Every glance narrowed.

"You can’t keep operating like this," Rivas said quietly. "There’s a reason people band together. If you don’t come willingly—"

"Then what?" Miles cut in. "You shoot us in the back?"

Rivas didn’t flinch. "We escort you. The hard way."

Zara’s arms tightened around Leo. His face was pressed to her shoulder, heartbeat thudding against her ribs.

Leo whimpered. His fingers had gone white on Zara’s coat.

Winter looked at Zara. She looked back.

Standing here and arguing would get them nowhere.

"We’ll go," he said finally. "But we ride together. No splitting us up. And we keep our gear."

"Your weapons stay under guard," Rivas replied.

"But they stay with us," Winter countered.

Rivas considered. "Fine."

One soldier gestured toward the trucks.

Mike’s voice cut through the tension. "Wait—hold up." He shoved past the soldiers forming the escort line. "My map, our journals, food—can’t just abandon that truck."

Winter slid between him and the soldiers. "He’s not wrong. That truck’s our lifeline—supplies, shelter, everything."

A soldier, steel‑faced and younger, barked: "You think we’re stupid? That we dont believe for a second that you’ll bolt?"

Miles stepped up, voice low but cutting: "Maybe you’re stupid—would you leave your own families with soldiers you barely know?"

The soldier’s nostrils flared, hand hovering near his holster. Winter flattened Miles with a single glare. He raised both hands in a calming gesture. "Enough. We bring the truck. We unload Marcus in the back." He looked over his shoulder. "Marcus is injured—he needs space to lie down in the back. Ima and Sam will tend to him."

Rivas folded his arms. "So your driver stays?"

"Richard can ride with you." Winter paused, casting a warm look at Miles and Naomi’s family, who stood behind with Arden’s group. "Miles, you decide where your crew boards."

Miles swallowed, then said, "My wife and kids stay together. I’ll ride with them—makes sense."

Rivas arched an eyebrow, eyes flicking between Winter and Arden. "You’ve not factored that group into this. Why not?"

Winter inhaled slowly. "I don’t know them. For all intents and purposes, they could’ve led you guys here." His voice was even, but cold. Arden’s gasp was soft; she clutched Henry tighter.

Rivas leaned in. "Is that so? Fair enough." His tone softened with urgency. "We need wheels moving. Mist stirs at dawn. This place gets active—very active."

He held the moment. Then barked orders: "Load up!"

Mike pulled open the back door of the battered truck. He hopped into the driver’s seat, engine growling. "Let’s go."

The rest piled into the back: Miles, Naomi, Lila, Aren, Marcus, Ima, Sam—eyebrows tight with worry but steady.

One soldier climbed in beside Miles and his family. Zara lifted Leo into Winter’s arms as she climbed into the military truck, then took him back to help Winter get in.

Arden and Henry, along with Ben and Kez, were briskly hustled into another army truck. The doors slammed gently but firmly.

Winter sank onto the bench opposite Zara. Leo wriggled up into her lap. Their fingers touched across the seat.

Zara caught his eye. "Not being separated."

He pressed her hand. "Not happening."

She exhaled, tension curling around her shoulders. What happens now?

Leo’s small hand climbed into her free one. Winter reached to brush hair from Leo’s forehead.

Outside, dust swirled as the convoy jolted forward. Engines echoed, soldiers watched, and the fragile feeling of hope they’d been chasing suddenly felt a little further off.