The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse-Chapter 55: Echoes of the Past

The storm raged outside the mall, sheets of rain and howling winds creating a cacophony that drowned out even the eerie silence of the apocalypse. Inside, the group had settled into a small makeshift camp in the mall’s central atrium, surrounded by overturned tables and salvaged goods. Despite the semblance of safety, an unspoken tension hung in the air.

Mallory leaned against a display counter, tossing scraps of jerky to Scraps while Blinky balanced precariously on a mannequin’s head nearby. The little alien had developed a habit of mimicking human poses, which Mallory found both endearing and unsettling.

"Remember Greg?" Mallory asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Kaelyn, who was sharpening her knife, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "The loudmouth with the terrible jokes?"

"Yeah, him," Mallory said with a smirk. "I wonder how he’s doing. Probably cracking puns at a zombie horde somewhere."

"Or getting himself eaten," Vanessa muttered, earning a glare from Liam.

"He wasn’t that bad," Liam said.

Mallory chuckled. "He grew on you, didn’t he?"

"I mean, he was kind of funny," Liam admitted.

"Funny or not, he’s not here," Kaelyn said curtly.

"That doesn’t mean he’s dead," Mallory replied. "People like Greg have a way of surviving. Annoying people always do."

As if on cue, a distant thud echoed through the mall. Everyone froze, their hands instinctively moving to their weapons.

"What was that?" Zara whispered.

Altair checked his tablet, but the storm outside interfered with the readings. "I can’t tell. The interference is too strong."

Mallory sighed and stood up, hefting her trusty wrench. "Guess we’re about to find out."

The group moved cautiously toward the source of the noise, their footsteps barely audible over the storm. As they approached a boarded-up entrance to the mall’s old movie theater, the thuds grew louder, accompanied by muffled voices.

"Voices?" Vanessa hissed. "That can’t be good."

Mallory exchanged a glance with Zara, who nodded and kicked open the door with surprising force. Inside, they found a small group of people barricaded behind a concession stand, desperately fending off a group of zombies.

And at the center of the chaos was Greg, wielding a broken mop handle like a spear.

"Greg!" Mallory shouted.

Greg turned, his face lighting up in recognition. "Mallory? Is that you? Man, I was starting to think you’d turned into one of these guys!"

"Not yet," Mallory said, rushing forward to help.

With the group’s intervention, the zombies were quickly dispatched. As the last one fell, Greg leaned against the counter, panting.

"Thanks for the save," he said, grinning. "I owe you one."

"You owe us about a dozen," Vanessa snapped.

Greg held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough."

Mallory turned her attention to the other survivors—a man in his late thirties with a scruffy beard and a teenage girl clutching a makeshift weapon.

"Friends of yours?" Mallory asked Greg.

"Sort of," Greg replied. "This is Alex—he’s good with gadgets—and that’s Mia. She’s... a work in progress."

"I heard that," Mia said, glaring at him.

Despite the circumstances, Mallory couldn’t help but laugh. "Looks like we’ve got ourselves a reunion."

As they led the new arrivals back to the central atrium, Mallory filled Greg in on everything that had happened since they last saw each other, including Blinky’s bizarre abilities and the group’s encounter with the anomaly.

"You’ve been busy," Greg said, shaking his head. "And here I thought I had all the fun."

"You call almost dying fun?" Kaelyn asked dryly.

"Depends on the day," Greg replied with a grin.

Back at the camp, Alex proved his worth almost immediately by rigging up a makeshift generator using salvaged parts from a nearby electronics store. The faint hum of electricity was a welcome sound, and soon the atrium was bathed in the soft glow of string lights.

"This is nice," Mallory said, sitting back and stretching. "Almost feels normal."

"Don’t jinx it," Kaelyn warned.

Greg, never one to take warnings seriously, pulled out a deck of cards from his bag. "Anyone up for a game?"

Before anyone could respond, Blinky snatched the cards with one of his tentacles and began shuffling them expertly.

"Well, that’s new," Mallory said, watching in amazement.

The group gathered around as Blinky dealt the cards with surprising precision. Even Kaelyn cracked a smile as the little alien chirped happily, seemingly enjoying his role as dealer.

The lighthearted moment was a welcome reprieve, but it didn’t last long. Just as Mallory was about to lay down her hand, Altair’s tablet beeped again.

"Not now," Mallory groaned. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Altair’s expression darkened as he checked the screen. "The anomaly’s moving. And it’s heading straight for us."

The group sprang into action, packing up their supplies and preparing to move out. Alex quickly dismantled the generator, while Greg tried—and failed—to wrangle Blinky, who seemed more interested in playing cards than escaping imminent danger.

As they exited the mall, the storm had intensified, lightning illuminating the ominous swirling mass on the horizon.

"What are we dealing with here?" Greg asked, his usual humor replaced by genuine concern.

"Something bad," Mallory said. "And it’s getting worse."

Despite the danger, Mallory couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. With Greg and Alex back in the mix, their odds of survival seemed a little better. And as they moved through the rain-soaked streets, she realized that, for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t just surviving—she was living.

"Alright, team," Mallory said, hefting her wrench with a grin. "Let’s show this apocalypse what we’re made of."

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