Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 120

Rewine The Apocalypse Dream

Chapter 120 I don’t have to do anything

Finished

Jonna stepped-ever the fallen bikers and walked toward the huddled group of women. Their eyes were wide, tracking her with a mix of awe and terror. Needing to offer them immediate sustenance without revealing her abilities, Joanna knelt and unzipped her tactical backpack. She reached her hands deep inside. using the bag as a cover to pull a small wooden crate of a few canned goods and a bag of bread out of her storage space.

She slid the crate across the asphalt toward them. “There is a little food and water in here. Take it.”

The women stared at the cans for a second before a few of them desperately scrambled forward, ripping the crate open. But as the others began to eat, one tall, gaunt woman stood up from the group. She didn’t look at the food. Instead, she stepped directly into Joanna’s path, her expression hardening.

“You can’t just leave us here,” the woman demanded, her voice shrill and laced with panic. “Look at what they did to us! Look at this world! You have weapons, you clearly know how to fight, and you just killed our captors. You have to take us with you. You have to help us survive.”

Joanna stopped in her tracks. Her features instantly turned to ice, her expression completely shutting down. “I don’t have to do anything,” she said, her voice dropping to a deadly, quiet calm.

The woman recoiled slightly, but desperation pushed her forward. She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at Joanna. “How can you be so selfish? You have a motorcycle, gear, and power! If you leave us out here in the dark, we are going to die, and our blood will be on your hands! You have a moral obligation as a human being to protect people who can’t protect themselves. If you walk away right now, you’re no better than the monsters we just escaped!”

Joanna didn’t blink. She looked at the woman with absolute, chilling indifference, entirely unmoved by the weaponized guilt.

“Your survival is your responsibility, not mine,” Joanna replied coldly. “I cleared your path and I gave you food. What you do with your life now is entirely up to you.”

Without waiting for a response, Joanna turned her back on the shouting woman. She walked over to her motorcycle, swung her leg over the seat, and kicked the engine to life. The loud, aggressive roar of the exhaust drowned out the woman’s final protests. Joanna twisted the throttle, leaving the roadblock and the screaming survivors behind as she sped down the dark highway toward the coast alone.

The heavy scent of salt and rotting kelp filled the air as Joanna finally reached the coastline. It was late into the night now. Thick, ghostly fingers of fog rolled in off the black water, swallowing the highway and reducing the visibility to just a few yards. Aside from the occasional flickering, dying light bulb dangling from an old streetlamp, the coast was draped in eerie, suffocating darkness.

But as Joanna looked through the mist at the massive silhouette of the shipping port, a thrill of pure excitement washed over her.

This was the jackpot. Before the world collapsed, this port was the primary economic artery for the entire region. Hundreds of steel shipping containers sat stacked like giant blocks across the asphalt, completely untouched. Just past the docks, massive commercial warehouses stretched into the fog-structures she knew held everything from bulk non-perishable food and medical supplies to brand-new cars, solar equipment, and industrial tools.

To make things even better, her pocket dimension had recently upgraded. The storage space had expanded

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Chapter 120 I don’t have to do anything

Finished

to include a massive, eight-story building alongside the villa, giving her more than enough room to swallow this entire harbor whole.

About half a block away from the main security gates, Joanna rolled her motorcycle into the shadow of an overturned semi-truck and cut the engine. She couldn’t risk the noise drawing a massive crowd. Sliding her combat knife from its sheath, she slipped forward into the fog on foot, her eyes scanning the gloom.

Movement flickered to her left. Two shambling figures emerged from the mist, their clothes tattered by the sea spray, their jaws snapping wetly as they caught her scent.

Joanna didn’t even slow her stride. As the first zombie lunged, she stepped inside its reach, driving her blade upward through the bottom of its jaw and straight into its brain. Before the corpse could hit the ground, she yanked the knife free, spun on her heel, and slashed horizontally, cleanly decapitating the second creature.

Both bodies fell silently into the damp dirt and with a slight wave, the zombie cores were collected into her bag. Wiping her blade on the jacket of the fallen monster, Joanna looked up at the towering chain-link fence of the main docks. The port was quiet, eerie, and waiting to be picked clean.

Joanna slipped past the towering steel gates and paused, her hand gripping the hilt of her knife. Her instincts, honed and sharp, immediately flagged a problem. Something was entirely off. A major port like this should have had infected guards wandering the perimeter, or at least active security forces if a faction had claimed it. Instead, the area was dead silent.

She walked cautiously toward the small building that served as the main guard station, her boots making no sound on the damp concrete. Pushing the heavy glass door open, she stepped into the dim lobby.

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