Chapter 7

Ivy's POV

I knew weapons would be just as vital as supplies once the apocalypse hit.

In those first few days, I knew perfectly well that zombies weren't the most dangerous thing I'd face. Other people were.

With nothing to defend myself, I wasn't going to last long.

Stock up on food first, then get weapons. I couldn't afford to skip either one.

I hunched over my notebook and wrote out the list one line at a time.

Food came first: long-grain rice, all-purpose flour, canned sweet corn, cornmeal, instant ramen, sandwich bread, frozen dinner rolls, canned beans, peanut butter, rolled oats, and powdered milk.

Then came the cooking basics: vegetable oil, salt, ketchup, barbecue sauce, honey mustard, teriyaki sauce, and a few kinds of hot sauce. Chicken bouillon, MSG, packets of seasoning, dried chiles, and canned chili and stews I could serve over rice all went on the list, too.

For a quick boost, I'd need calorie-dense food. I added dark chocolate, hard candy, and energy bars.

If I could afford it, I'd stock up on snacks, too: pretzels, beef jerky, smoked sausage sticks, pickled eggs, canned pulled pork, cheese crackers, packaged cookies, snack cakes, and a few different kinds of soda.

Dieting? To hell with it. I'd need those calories to stay alive.

I had to stock up on medicine and first-aid supplies while I could still get them. I wrote down prescription antibiotics, ibuprofen, sterile gauze pads, bleeding-control dressings, and over-the-counter cold and flu medicine.

Then I listed clothes for every season, including socks, heavy-duty pants, and work boots. Winter parkas topped that part of the list. I could shed layers when it got hot, but if a hard freeze hit, going without warm gear could get me killed.

For toiletries, I wrote down toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, bar soap, toilet paper, pads, and tampons with applicators.

I knew from experience how much harder survival could be for a woman once the apocalypse hit.

Zombies could pick up the smell of menstrual blood and follow it straight to you. Once they caught your scent, you had almost no chance of getting away.

I'd rather have tampons for days when I had to run or fight. I could move more freely and worry less about leaks or leaving a scent for zombies to follow.

I still wanted regular pads on hand. In a pinch, I could press a clean one over a wound to absorb blood and keep dirt out.

For weapons, I wanted a long blade for close range and a compound bow for when I needed to keep my distance.

Guns could wait until later.

My uncle's family had moved out. For once, I had the whole place to myself.

I took the leftover cake out of the fridge and ate it in big bites as I worked. Every so often I'd go online to compare suppliers and make changes to the list.

I stayed up all night doing that and still didn't feel tired.

Robert showed up at noon the next day, right on time, with my four hundred thousand and the prenup Castillo's son had already signed.

I signed my name without even looking up.

Robert let out a long breath when he saw how easily I'd signed, then hurried out.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I called a real estate agent about putting the place on the market.

The midday sun was brutal, and the streets were nearly empty.

A few agents sat around chatting inside the real estate office, with the air conditioner humming in the background.

As soon as I came through the door, a guy in his early twenties got up to help me.

"Hi there! Looking to buy or rent? We've got a new subdivision a short drive from the Tri-Rail station. Easy commute to Miami. It's great for young buyers."

He'd taken me for a buyer.

"I'm here to sell my place." I handed him the paperwork I'd put together.

"Sure thing. Let's see what we can get you for it."

"Harbor Cove Villas. Third-floor walk-up, fourteen hundred square feet, four bedrooms. I've got photos and a floor plan right here. I need a quick closing. Cash offers only, and I'm willing to go below market to get it done."

With a mortgage, the paperwork and loan approval could drag the sale out for more than a month. I'd take less money to close sooner.

He poured me a glass of iced tea.

"Have a seat. Let me pull up the comps. I actually have a couple of buyers looking in that neighborhood. The building's an older walk-up downtown, but the units are big. Comparable places have sold for between $680,000 and $760,000 lately. I sold one on the same floor, about the same size, for $720,000. That one had been updated and was in good shape. Yours still has the original finishes, so buyers are going to factor in the cost of renovations. If you want cash and a quick closing, I'd be ready for offers toward the low end of that range."

He paused and looked at me. "It's a big decision. Do you want to run it by your family first?"

I shook my head. "The title's in my name. I can make the decision myself."

He got on the phone with the buyers he had in mind and started lining up showings.

By that afternoon, I'd accepted a $700,000 cash offer, and we'd set the closing for the following day.

Early the next morning, before I was fully awake, I heard shouting out on the landing.

"Ivy, I know you're in there! You went to all the trouble of changing the locks. Now open the damn door!"

"Quit hiding in there! Come out here and say it to our faces!"

"What did I ever do to deserve this? I spent years raising my niece, and the minute she's grown, she throws us out on the street. After everything I did for her!"

"That's enough, Deborah. Ivy's a good kid. I'm sure she had her reasons. She was upset yesterday. That's all."

"Dad, she's throwing us out, and you're still sticking up for her?"

I opened the door. The whole family was out on the landing, making sure everybody could hear them.

Robert played the reasonable one while the rest of them took turns yelling.

A few neighbors had come out to see what was going on. Some were talking among themselves, and a couple were already trying to comfort Deborah.