Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121 I am Caleb. The dream weaver

ere, lined up across the floor of the main hall, were eight or nine men.

Joanna kept her weapon ready as she approached the group. Some wore the dark uniforms of the port’s private security force, while others were in the heavy-duty jackets of dock workers. They were bound tightly to one another with thick industrial rope, their heads lolling forward.

Kneeling beside the closest guard, Joanna checked his pulse and watched his chest. He was alive, his breathing slow and steady. She quickly checked the others. All of them were breathing, completely unharmed but deeply unconscious. They hadn’t been bitten by the infected, nor had they been executed by ruthless scavengers. They had simply been neutralized and put to sleep.

She stood back up, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the empty room. What went on here? If a hostile gang had taken the port, these men would be dead. If a military remnant had secured it, they would be awake and on duty. The clinical, bloodless precision of the takedown pointed to something entirely different.

Did someone already pull off a massive heist right before she arrived, or was a highly organized group still inside the warehouses?

Joanna stepped away from the unconscious men and slipped down a short, dim hallway, her hand tightly gripping her blade. The corridor opened up into a spacious employee break room, illuminated only by the faint, eerie glow of several vending machines.

Inside, a man sat casually on top of a plastic break table.

He was dressed entirely in sleek black clothing from head to toe. In his hand, he held an open bag of potato chips, munching on them without a single care in the world, completely unbothered by the apocalypse outside. He possessed a striking, handsome face, though his frame was lean-almost to the point of looking frail. He had a delicate, androgynous beauty that made him look completely out of place in a rugged shipping port.

As Joanna’s shadow crossed the threshold, the man paused mid-chew. He looked up, his sharp eyes locking directly onto hers.

Instead of reaching for a weapon or panicking, his face broke into a wide, bright smile. He set the bag of chips down on the table beside him and tilted his head.

“Hello there,” he said, his voice remarkably soft, smooth, and welcoming.

Joanna kept her knife raised, but as she looked at him, an unsettling sensation washed over her. Something about his presence felt deeply familiar, sending a strange shiver down her spine.

“Who are you?” Joanna asked, her voice tight. “Did you do that to the guards?”

The man chuckled softly, swinging his legs off the edge of the table. “They were in the way, so we put them to sleep. I had to be here, you see. I was waiting for you.”

Uneasiness twisted in Joanna’s stomach. Her survival instincts screamed at her to leave, yet a bizarre gravity kept her rooted to the spot. The stranger gestured gracefully to a plastic chair across from him. “Please, come in. Sit.”

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Chapter 121 I am Caleb The dream weaver

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Rejecting the offer, Joanna stepped into the break room but kept her distance. She crossed her arms and leaned heavily against the concrete wall, her eyes never leaving his face. “What do you want?”

“I want to join your group,” he replied smoothly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his eyes. He leaned forward, his smile turning soft. “I knew you would come here tonight, Joanna.”

Hearing her name fall from the lips of a total stranger made her blood run cold. She straightened up, her posture turning rigid and defensive as agitation flared within her. “No. The answer is no. I don’t know you, and I don’t take in random strays.”

She gripped her knife tighter, the eerie silence of the fog-covered port pressing in on the room. “Listen here, you better tell me who are you before I kill you?”

The man didn’t flinch but looked slightly amused. He lowered his voice, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made the air feel heavy. “Don’t you remember me from your dream?”

Inside, Joanna completely freaked out. The walls of the break room seemed to close in as her mind raced trying to process the impossibility of his words.

The man stepped off the table, his movements silent and fluid as he took a single step toward her. He whispered into the quiet, stagnant room, “I have always been with you.”

Instantly, Joanna’s body locked up. Her muscles refused to move, paralyzed by a sudden shock of recognition. It was him. The realization hit her like a physical blow. That specific, comforting cadence, the exact pitch of his soft voice-it was the very same voice she would hear echoing in her mind just as she fell asleep some nights, whispering from the edges of her subconscious.

A cold sweat broke out across her skin as terror and confusion warred in her chest. What is going on? she thought frantically. How is this possible?

His gentle smile remained unchanged as he looked at her frozen form. “I am Caleb. The dream weaver.”

Joanna’s mind spun with confusion. Before she could process his words, the heavy metal back door of the break room screeched open.

A woman stepped in from the foggy night. She looked a few years older than Joanna and wore sleek black clothing similar to Caleb’s. Her blonde hair was cropped into a fierce buzz cut, and her piercing eyes locked onto Joanna right away.

A second later, recognition hit Joanna. This was Kailee,

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