Chapter 1The Unborn Prophet & My Doomsday Fort

The second before I swiped my Amex at the Hermès boutique, I heard a scream from my son in my belly.

Mom! Stop buying these useless bags! The zombies are coming in a month! You can’t eat this thing, and you can’t even crack a nut with it. What’s the point?!

Go buy rice! Buy oil! Sell that limited-edition sports car and get a bulletproof armored truck!

My hand trembled, and the order form for a few million dollars' worth of goods scattered across the floor.

The sales associate shot me a look dripping with disdain. "Miss Wallace, if you have insufficient funds, you're welcome to come back another day."

I ignored her, turning away to dial Murphy, my old contact at the wholesale market.

"I need ten thousand pounds of rice and five thousand pounds of pork. The fatty, skin-on kind! And I need it now!"

From that moment on, Michelle Wallace, the elite circle’s pretty, mindless spender, was dead. In her place stood Michelle Wallace, the doomsday prepper.

...

Before I even made it out of the mall, the little voice in my womb exploded again.

Mom, rice isn’t enough! We need generators! And antibiotics! It would be even better if we could get our hands on a couple of shotguns!

My knees went weak, and I nearly collapsed onto the polished marble floor.

Was this kid a future felon?

Sitting in my car, I took a deep breath and patted my stomach. "Son, don't scare Mommy. We live in a society with laws."

Who's scaring you?! Last time around, I was barely formed in your belly when—crunch!—the zombies turned us into an all-you-can-eat buffet! My head still aches just thinking about their teeth!

The description was a little too vivid.

Goosebumps prickled all over my skin.

To make sure this kid wasn't just a product of my own fracturing sanity, I asked tentatively, "Then what's the combination to your father's safe?"

That safe was Liam’s baby. No one but him knew the code.

Tch, that’s easy. It’s 0925 plus your birthday. That lovesick dad of mine has zero imagination when it comes to passwords.

I immediately called Liam’s assistant, pretending I needed to retrieve a document, and tried the combination.

With a soft click, it opened.

Something inside my head snapped.

It was real.

In just over a month, the world was going to end.

Without a second thought, I scrolled through my phone's contacts.

I still had connections from my old job at a logistics company. I called up my former warehouse supervisor.

"That five-thousand-square-foot cold storage unit—I want to rent it. Starting with three months."

"That's right. I'm storing meat. A lot of meat."

After hanging up, I floored the gas pedal and sped toward the city's largest wholesale farmers market.

The place was a chaotic symphony of shouting and smells, the ground a mess of rotten vegetable leaves and black, murky water.

Dressed in a Chanel couture suit and eight-centimeter Louboutins, I stood before a pork stall, a complete fish out of water.

The old folks shopping around me stared as if I were insane.

"Sir, I'll take this entire half-pig."

"And those ribs over there. Wrap them all up."

The butcher froze, cleaver in hand. "Lady, are you catering a wedding?"

"No wedding. It's all for me."

I didn't have time to argue. I scanned the code and paid the deposit. "I'll buy every last piece of freshly butchered pork in this market. Have it all delivered to my cold storage unit. If you're short by even an ounce, you'll hear from me."

As I was directing workers to load the carcasses, a camera flashed nearby.

I turned to see Jessica holding her phone, a smug, gloating look on her face.

She was Liam's distant cousin and had always believed she was the true high-society princess, convinced I was just some country bumpkin who’d gotten lucky.

"Well, well, Michelle. What happened? Did Liam's family go bankrupt? Are you reduced to buying this unsanitary meat from such a low-class place?"

She pinched her nose, her expression one of pure disgust.

I ignored her, turned around, heaved a sack of pork belly that no one else was carrying, and tossed it into the trunk of my Porsche.

"If you don't want to die, get the hell away from me."

My ferocity startled her for a second, but then she smirked. "Keep pretending. I'm posting this right now so everyone can see what the high and mighty Mrs. Hayes has been reduced to!"

My son snorted in my belly.

That idiot. When the zombies come, that layer of marbled fat on her will be their absolute favorite. I bet she's nice and chewy.

I almost burst out laughing.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Liam.

A bank alert. A few million dollars had just been spent.

His call came right after.

"Michelle, did you just buy a warehouse full of pork?"

He didn't sound angry, just deeply confused.

"I did. I was craving braised pork belly. Is that a problem?" I said, my tone defiant.

There was a three-second pause on the other end.

"Not at all. As long as you're happy. I can transfer you more money if you need it."

Hanging up, a warmth spread through my chest.

Apocalypse or not, I had married the right man.