Chapter 4The Unborn Prophet & My Doomsday Fort

Ten days left until the date my son had prophesied.

Jessica hadn't been idle.

She was spreading rumors all over their social circle, saying that Liam’s company was on the verge of collapse, that he was not only bankrupt but also drowning in debt, and that the stress had driven his wife insane.

A few of his business partners even called him, trying to subtly fish for information.

"Liam, my friend, I hear you're doing some… renovations at your place? Sounds like quite the project."

Liam was completely unruffled on the phone. "Oh, it's nothing. My wife has gotten into a post-apocalyptic survival game, so I'm building her a life-sized immersive experience."

The person on the other end burst out laughing, praising Liam for being such an indulgent husband.

Things weren't going as smoothly for me, though.

My anxiety was at an all-time high.

I kept feeling like we didn't have enough water, so I bought dozens of those giant plastic water tanks and filled up the villa's rooftop and basement.

I also bought several boxes of baseball bats and those riot control forks used by security guards.

Mom, we need medicine! Antibiotics! Painkillers! And vitamins!

My son, being a reincarnator, was nothing if not thorough. Using Liam's connections, I managed to acquire a large supply of prescription drugs and first-aid kits from a hospital supplier.

The final three-day countdown began.

I dragged Liam to the largest warehouse club in the city.

This time, I wasn't buying staples. I went straight for the snack aisle.

Chocolate, potato chips, candy, soda…

In an apocalypse, these things would be currency. They were luxuries that could bring a moment of happiness.

Liam pushed five shopping carts, all overflowing with junk food, trailing behind me.

People were pointing and whispering. Some even took out their phones to secretly film us.

"Look, that's Liam Hayes. I heard his wife drove him crazy."

"Wow, look at all those snacks. Is he opening a convenience store in his house?"

For the first time, Liam's face flushed with embarrassment, but he squared his shoulders and pretended not to hear.

Back home, I began the final lockdown procedures.

I double-checked every door and window, leaving only a single, concealed ventilation shaft open.

All the curtains were drawn, blocking out the outside world.

Jessica started a live stream on social media, filming right outside our villa.

"Hey everyone, check it out! This is the infamous 'doomsday fortress.' It's hilarious. You'd think they were keeping a monster locked up in there."

The comments were all laughing at me.

I looked at my phone and scoffed.

"Laugh all you want. Let's see if you're still laughing in a few days."

The prophesied day finally arrived.

The atmosphere that night was electric with tension.

I made the whole family wear Kevlar stab-proof vests, even putting a muzzle on our Golden Retriever so his barking wouldn't attract zombies.

Liam, dressed in his vest and holding a baseball bat, sat resignedly on the sofa, staying up with me.

"Michelle, even if there were zombies, our doors are solid enough. Do we really need to stand guard like this?"

"We have to! The first wave is the most dangerous!"

The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly.

11:50 PM.

11:55 PM.

Midnight.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

And I held mine, my palms slick with sweat.

No one knew what the next second would bring. The world as we knew it was balanced on a knife's edge.