Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17 Three Bedroom Apartment

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The jade had unlocked a comprehensive, 360-degree mental security feed. She could now access a real-time visual array of every interior and exterior wall of her villa. Furthermore, the stone perimeter wall surrounding her fortress had spontaneously doubled in thickness, skyrocketing to a staggering twenty feet tall, topped with a high-voltage electrical deterrence grid.

Joanna put a hand to her throbbing temple, but an ecstatic smile cut across her face. Her sanctuary was turning into an impenetrable citadel.

As exhaustion finally pulled her into the mattress, the deep, hauntingly familiar voice echoed in the silence of her mind as she fell asleep.

“Good job, and sweet dreams. I am with you.”

The next morning, Joanna physically manifested inside her pocket dimension to survey her growing empire. Walking across the newly expanded, fertile land, she felt a profound surge of confidence. This space wasn’t just a storage locker anymore; it was her sovereign ticket to becoming one of the apex leaders of the new world.

She began a grueling circuit of cardio and calisthenics right there on the grass, until her lungs burned and her muscles quickly fatigued. I need heavy-duty gym equipment, she noted, wiping sweat from her forehead. Her current body was soft-entirely unaccustomed to the brutal, hardened battle conditioning she had possessed at the end of her five-year nightmare. Still, while she had strength, she wanted to build speed and stamina.

What truly amazed her, though, was the evolution of her genetic ceiling. In her dream, she had only ever possessed a weak storage capacity. Now, she realized that both her short-range teleportation and her absolute strength were evolutionary gifts triggered by her fully bonded heirloom set. The teleportation was clearly an extension of her spatial manipulation, an ability that had remained completely dormant in her past life because her pocket dimension had never grown past a basic level.

Originally, her plan had been to purchase multiple hidden plots of land along the interstate to cache supplies for her future journey toward the Evercrest Base. But with several large fields of stasis-locked ground at her disposal, she could carry an entire civilization’s worth of cargo right on her person. The sheer relief of that revelation saved her immense logistical worry.

Weapons remained her primary hurdle. Sourcing high-grade firearms legally in six months without drawing federal heat was nearly impossible, but she held onto the hope that Julian Hawthorne’s massive corporate reach would eventually provide a backdoor. Even if it didn’t, her memories reminded her that the zombies in the initial months of the outbreak were slow and fragile. They wouldn’t begin leveling up or mutating for a few months. In the early days, the most reliable tools of survival would be raw, low-tech blunt instruments: heavy shovels, crowbars, and tactical hammers. She could stockpile those by the thousands without raising a

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Chapter 17 Three Bedroom Apartment

single red flag.

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Dressing in sharp, unassuming clothes, she left her old apartment and walked a few blocks down to a high-end commercial real estate agency. She bypassed the standard receptionist and requested a private room with a senior broker.

“I need three industrial warehouses,” Joanna specified, sliding a map across the desk. “I want them completely scattered across opposite corners of the city’s grid to decentralize my footprint.”

The broker looked up, surprised, but the sight of Joanna’s high-limit black card cut off any hesitation. “We can certainly expedite those listings, Miss Harington. What about the leasing terms?”

“I am paying the five-month leases entirely up front in cash,” Joanna said, her voice dropping into a cold, transactional register. “But I have a strict condition. Once the paperwork is signed, I want my digital tracking metrics and personal identification entirely erased from your records. I expect total anonymity.”

The broker nodded smoothly, entirely unfazed. In a coastal shipping city, wealthy logistics clients frequently used anonymous shell accounts to shield high-value cargo shipments from corporate competitors. “Understood. We can route the leases through a private trust. Consider your data thoroughly insulated.”

“Perfect. Now let’s talk residential,” Joanna continued. “I need a three-bedroom apartment immediately adjacent to the deep-water commercial harbor.”

Proximity to the shipping ports was a non-negotiable tactical requirement. When the global grid permanently died during Thanksgiving weekend, she needed to be within sprinting distance of the international cargo containers, ready to raid the docks before the military could lock down the sector.

The broker scanned his premium listings and smiled. “I have the perfect match. A ground-floor corner unit, three bedrooms, two bathrooms, located in a high-security complex right off the main harbor channel.”

Joanna reviewed the blueprint and instantly loved it. The ground-floor corner positioning meant she could slip in and out through the private garage without nosy neighbors tracking her coming and going. Furthermore, the building’s heavy-duty perimeter fencing and biometric gate access offered optimal operational privacy. She paid the six-month lease up front, collected the keys, and walked out.

Packing her old life took less than three minutes. Standing in the center of her university apartment, she tested her expanded spatial reach. She no longer needed to maintain physical contact with her belongings. With a mere thought, any furniture, clothing, or crate within a twenty-five-foot radius dissolved into thin air, materializing perfectly organized inside the basement of her stone villa. Her practicing paid off.

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