The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse-Chapter 79: A Storm Brewing

The next morning brought a rare moment of peace, though it felt fragile, as if the calm were merely the eye of a larger storm. The sun filtered through the windows of Mallory’s apartment, painting the walls in hues of golden light. For once, the group wasn’t scrambling to survive or preparing for a conflict, but the tension from the previous day’s battle still lingered in the air.

Greg was the first to break the silence, plopping a plate of steaming pancakes on the table. "Breakfast is served. And yes, Mallory, I remembered to burn a few just the way you like them."

Mallory, sprawled on the couch with Blinky perched on her lap, raised an eyebrow. "Burnt pancakes? Bold of you to assume that’s my preference and not just a testament to my culinary skills."

Harper laughed as she snagged a plate. "I don’t care how they look as long as they’re edible. Thanks, Greg."

As they dug into breakfast, Alex leaned against the kitchen counter, flipping through a worn map they’d scavenged weeks ago. "Cara was right about one thing," he said, his tone serious. "The Iron Teeth were just the beginning. If we’re going to make it out of this apocalypse in one piece, we need a long-term plan."

"Define ’long-term,’" Mallory said between bites of pancake. "Because my current plan involves surviving until lunch."

Greg shook his head. "She’s not wrong. Every time we try to think ahead, something blows up in our faces. Literally."

Ryder, ever the realist, set down his coffee mug with a heavy sigh. "We don’t have the luxury of living day to day anymore. The world’s too dangerous for that. We need to find somewhere permanent, somewhere safe."

"Safe doesn’t exist," Mallory said, though her voice lacked its usual sarcasm. "Not anymore."

---

The rest of the morning was spent planning their next move. They laid out maps, discussed potential routes, and debated the merits of staying put versus searching for a more secure location.

"We could head north," Alex suggested, tracing a line on the map. "There’s less population density up there, which means fewer zombies and fewer people trying to kill us."

"And more freezing temperatures," Harper pointed out. "I’m not exactly built for subzero conditions."

"What about the coast?" Greg offered. "If we can find a boat, we could try to reach one of the islands. Zombies can’t swim, right?"

Mallory snorted. "Great idea, Greg. Let’s trade zombie hordes for sea monsters. That’ll definitely end well."

Their discussion was interrupted by a sudden commotion outside. Blinky, who had been napping on the couch, perked up and let out a series of beeps, alerting them to the presence of something—or someone—nearby.

Ryder grabbed his weapon and motioned for the others to stay back. "I’ll check it out."

Mallory wasn’t one to sit idly by, so she followed him to the window, peeking through the curtains. What she saw made her stomach drop.

A group of survivors—at least a dozen—was approaching the building. They looked ragged and desperate, but it was the weapons they carried that caught her attention.

"More Iron Teeth?" she whispered.

Ryder shook his head. "No. These are different. But that doesn’t mean they’re friendly."

---

The group decided to play it safe, barricading the doors and staying out of sight. From their vantage point, they watched as the newcomers gathered near the entrance to the building.

"They don’t look like they’re here to attack," Greg said, though his grip on his makeshift weapon didn’t loosen.

"Desperate people are unpredictable," Ryder replied. "We can’t let our guard down."

After what felt like an eternity, one of the strangers stepped forward and shouted, "We know you’re in there! We’re not here to fight—we just need help!"

Mallory glanced at the others. "What do you think? Trap or genuine plea for help?"

Harper frowned. "It could be both. But if they’re desperate enough to shout like that, they’re probably not in a position to ambush us."

Against her better judgment, Mallory decided to take the lead. She opened the door just enough to see the group outside. "What do you want?" she called out, her voice firm.

The man who had spoken stepped closer, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. "We’re not looking for trouble. Our camp was overrun, and we’ve been on the move ever since. We’re out of food, out of water—please, we just need a place to rest."

Mallory hesitated, glancing back at the others. Ryder’s expression was one of caution, while Greg and Harper seemed more sympathetic.

"Let them in," Harper said quietly. "If we were in their shoes, we’d want someone to do the same for us."

Ryder sighed but didn’t object.

---

The newcomers were wary as they entered the apartment, their eyes scanning the space as if expecting a trap. Mallory couldn’t blame them; trust was a rare commodity these days.

The leader introduced himself as Ethan, a former teacher who had taken on the role of protector for his group. Among them were a mother and her two young children, an elderly man who looked like he’d seen better days, and a handful of others who all bore the weight of loss and exhaustion.

Mallory’s initial skepticism softened as she listened to their story. Ethan’s camp had been attacked by a massive horde, forcing them to flee with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They’d been wandering for days, scavenging what little they could find, and the strain was evident in their hollow eyes and gaunt faces.

"You’ve got a good setup here," Ethan said, his tone admiring. "How did you manage it?"

Mallory smirked. "Let’s just say I’ve got connections."

Greg, ever the mediator, offered the newcomers some food and water, which they accepted with gratitude. Blinky, sensing the tension in the room, tried to lighten the mood by doing a series of flips and beeping excitedly.

The children laughed, and for a moment, the weight of the apocalypse seemed to lift.

---

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the newcomers and assessing their intentions. While some of the group remained wary, Mallory found herself oddly drawn to Ethan’s calm demeanor and quiet determination.

As night fell, they gathered around a makeshift fire in the apartment’s common area, sharing stories and discussing their next steps.

Ethan leaned closer to Mallory, his voice low. "I know we’re strangers, but I want to thank you for taking us in. It means more than you know."

Mallory shrugged, trying to downplay her decision. "Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a long way to go before any of us are safe."

"But you gave us a chance," Ethan said, his gaze steady. "That’s more than most would have done."

Mallory didn’t respond, but a small part of her couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride.

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