The Apocalypse Survival Manual

Just after midnight, the timer refreshed. One hundred thirty minutes remaining.

That meant time could stack.

Nicole nearly laughed out loud. Seconds mattered. During crucial moments, even a minute could mean the difference between living and dying.

She decided that unless it was absolutely necessary, she wouldn't enter the storage space again. She would save the time during the deep freeze or earthquakes.

With food secured and the storage space as a safety net, she finally felt a little steadier about the disasters ahead.

She slept through the night without dreams.

The next morning, a phone call dragged her awake. The stainless steel door installers had arrived.

"Are you putting stainless steel doors in here?" one of them asked, surprised.

"Yeah. There have been break-ins lately. I want something solid."

The worker laughed helplessly. "Those top-and-bottom locking bolts are secure, but we'll have to drill into the ceiling and floor. Aren't you worried about damage?"

"That's fine. Safety comes first."

Her landlord had moved away for work. By the time the apartment collapsed in the earthquake later on, she never heard from the landlord anyway. Renovations weren't a concern.

The blast-resistant glass installers arrived right after. Both crews worked nonstop, drills whining through the morning.

Since it was the weekend, and Nicole didn't want to annoy the neighbors, she sent a quick message in the building chat and tossed in a small cash gift.

She opened a food delivery app and kept ordering, spending whatever was left.

In under two hours, the doors and windows were finished. After paying the remaining balance, Nicole stared at the fortress-like apartment and finally relaxed.

Her phone rang. She assumed it was a delivery driver.

Instead, it was Edward.

"It's my birthday party today. When are you coming?"

His voice sounded warm and bright, layered with laughter and chatter in the background.

Nicole sneered, "Sure. Just wait."

She knew Edward had feelings for Mary. He just kept her dangling for surprise gifts and the pendant she wore.

Even through the phone, she could hear Mary's soft, sweet voice nearby.

In Nicole's last life, she threw herself at him, and he barely acknowledged her. Now, he was suddenly reaching out.

Alarm bells rang in her head.

How had Mary known about the pendant's storage space? Judging by Edward's attitude, he probably didn't know the secret. The call was likely Mary's idea.

Nicole grabbed her keys and went downstairs.

Edward lived on the eighth floor. Laughter spilled from his apartment.

Nicole walked right past without a glance and exited the building.

The air was still heavy, but the typhoon's advance winds had arrived. Whistling gusts cut through the streets.

A new alert popped up. The typhoon was expected to arrive at 9 p.m.

Nicole froze.

It had moved up.

She headed to the university library and gathered medical textbooks, disaster response manuals, martial arts guides, and books on mental conditioning.

During the floods, this entire library would vanish underwater. Countless books would be lost forever.

The thought made her chest ache, but there was nothing she could do.

She avoided cameras, stacked the books with others, and quietly slid them into her storage space. Stealing books wasn't right, but the library would be destroyed soon anyway. These books were part of human civilization.

Nicole couldn't save everything. If the disasters ever ended, she would donate what she took.

Edward called again. Nicole blocked his number without hesitation.

After leaving campus, she went to a large supermarket. She rode the elevator up to the rooftop parking lot, walked around carefully, then came back down.

Faced with shelves packed full of goods, she didn't buy a single thing. She wandered the second floor several times, then drove off.

The rental company called. The typhoon had arrived early, and they were closing. The vehicle needed to be returned by 3 p.m.

Nicole agreed verbally, but returned it at 4 p.m.

The wind was already howling, tearing through the streets.

The owner was decent. After inspection, he refunded her 400-dollar deposit.

Disasters didn't strike all at once. They always gave a buffer. Humans just never noticed.

Nicole kept the cash on hand and stopped spending.

Back at the apartment, she grabbed her laptop, tablet, and phone and started downloading materials nonstop: medical references, survival guides, movies, music, life skills, cooking recipes, offline maps, and emergency response manuals.

A shipping notification popped up.

Nicole's heart skipped.

The polar cold-weather suits! She had completely forgotten.

They were supposed to arrive yesterday evening, but the seller shipped late, and delays piled up. The packages had just reached the courier station.

She called immediately.

The station said the typhoon had already hit, and deliveries were suspended. If she really needed it, she could come pick it up before 6 p.m.

Outside, the wind screamed. Trees in the complex thrashed wildly.

Once the rain came, the courier station would flood. And without polar gear, surviving temperatures of -90°F would be impossible.

No ride-hailing drivers were taking orders. Nicole had no choice. She ran downstairs, scanned a shared bike, and pedaled hard toward the station.

The station was two miles away. Nicole could barely keep her eyes open. Trash and cardboard flew through the air like shrapnel.

By the time she arrived, she was soaked in sweat, hair plastered to her face.

Typhoon delays had jammed the station. Packages were stacked everywhere.

Nicole didn't stop to catch her breath. She rolled up her sleeves and dug through the piles. Thankfully, the boxes were huge. After more than ten minutes, she finally found them.

Outside, the wind had grown even stronger. The sky was so dark that it looked like night.

Nicole gritted her teeth and hugged the massive package as she stepped out. The moment she cleared the doorway, a sudden gust slammed into her. Her feet left the ground.

At the last second, a man loading boxes into a vehicle reached out and grabbed her arm. His stance was solid. He hauled the soaked, shaken Nicole back to safety.

She tried to thank him, but her voice vanished into the wind.

He glanced at her. "Typhoon's here. Carrying that like this isn't safe."

Caught off guard by how fast the storm escalated, Nicole had no choice but to retreat inside. She refreshed the ride app nonstop, even adding extra tips.

Three hundred people were ahead of her in the queue. Not a single driver accepted.

The man finished loading packages, stuffing them into a Hummer until it was packed. Seeing her anxious expression, he hesitated.

"Where do you live?"

Under the lights, Nicole finally saw his face.

He wore a black T-shirt and jeans. He looked to be in his early twenties, with short, clean-cut hair, a sharp jawline, and hard, sculpted features.

He was tall, at least six feet, with long legs that caught the eye right away.

She thanked him again.

He looked indifferent. "No big deal."

"I live at Crownview Residences," Nicole said. "Could you give me a lift? I can pay."

He nodded and opened the door.

The back seat was full.

Opening the front door, Nicole saw a little girl in the passenger seat. She looked four or five years old, with a pale, timid face and big dark eyes that watched Nicole in silence. She wore a pink dress.

"Poppy, let her hold you," the man said calmly.

With the apocalypse starting, who cared about traffic cameras anymore?

Nicole lifted Poppy onto her lap and wedged the package under her feet.

The wind howled, but the Hummer moved steadily forward.

The sky pressed low and heavy. Broken branches spun through the air. Sheet metal clattered violently.

Down the street, a woman in a summer dress clung to a utility pole, mouth wide open, screaming for help.

The natural disasters had officially begun.