Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218 Simon Fletcher The War Lord

Finished

Joanna immediately locked eyes with Fletcher. He looked so different it was hard to recognize him. Unlike the dark hallway, this room was flooded with the warm, flickering glow of several lanterns.

Fletcher sat sprawled in a plush hotel chair, dressed entirely in dark clothing. He looked a little feverish, sweat glistening on his forehead, and he was noticeably younger than she remembered him. One of his hands was wrapped tightly in a heavily blood-stained towel. Despite his injury, he regarded her with an intense, unwavering gaze.

“Hello, little dove.”

Joanna froze. He had called her that in her dream premonition, too. But this time, his voice was smooth and clear-not the rough, gravelly rasp that would later define him Seeing him with both of his arms intact, looking so young and unburdened by the years to come, she felt a sudden pang of sadness well up in her chest. In a few short years, the apocalypse would forge him into a hardened, terrifying tyrant. He would bear no resemblance to the man sitting before her today.

Pushing the emotion down, Joanna walked over to the second chair and sat down directly facing him.

Fletcher leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her posture. “I am told you have Eric and medicine,” he said, his voice dropping into a lazy drawl that was both captivating and heavy. “Forgive me, but did Christmas arrive early?”

Joanna didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned slightly forward, her gaze locking onto his. “Did you awaken your strength ability yet?”

The words cut through the room like a blade. Fletcher sat up straight, his lazy, feverish posture vanishing in an instant. The easy drawl was gone, replaced by a sudden, dangerous focus.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked. His voice was a razor-thin rasp, all pretense of charm completely stripped away.

Joanna crossed her legs and leaned back into the cushions, her expression remaining entirely unmoved by his sudden shift in gravity. “I am the only one who can save you,” she said flatly.

Fletcher stared at her, the silence stretching between them as he measured the absolute certainty in her eyes. Slowly, the tension in his jaw tightened, but he didn’t call for the guards outside.

“Are you now?” he said, a dark, dangerous curiosity flickering in his gaze. He gestured slightly with his uninjured hand. “Please. Continue.”

“I want unrestricted access to parts of your city,” Joanna stated, her tone factual and unyielding. “My people need steel and building supplies. Food as well. If we stick to the north of your city, we will only be here for maybe a week or less.”

Fletcher didn’t answer right away. He stared at her, the flickering lantern light catching the calculating hardness in his eyes. “How do you know about my strength ability?”

Joanna looked at him, deciding to fall back on the prophetess story. It was the easiest shield to use when navigating a past that hadn’t happened yet. “I am a prophetess. Did you awaken it yet?”

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Chapter 218 Simon Fletcher The War Lord

Finished

He sneered at her, a sharp, dismissive sound escaping his throat. “You don’t think I actually believe that, do you?”

Joanna merely raised her eyebrows, letting the silence mock his disbelief.

He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register as he spoke slowly. “Are you a spy?”

Joanna frowned, losing patience with his suspicion. “Fletcher, I can tell you that if you do not listen to me, you will lose your arm. I know you have several gangs in this city who want you dead, but in five years, you will stand above them all.”

Fletcher’s frown deepened. He was clearly trying to work out her game, searching her face for any tells of a trap. “You might still be a spy though, sent to lure me with false promises. The question is, how do you know about my strength? Only a few men know about it. Who sent you?”

He stood up suddenly, lunging forward to grab her and force answers out of her.

But Joanna was faster. She caught his hand easily, her grip locking like stone around his wrist, and pushed him back into his seat.

Fletcher dropped back into the hotel chair, completely stunned. He stared down at his trapped hand, then up at her unbothered expression. “You have strength power, too?”

“Yes,” Joanna said calmly. “Now, why don’t you settle down? I don’t mean to harm you.”

Fletcher stared at her in utter shock. She knew his secrer-an ability that had only just awakened within him. Not only that, but she was obviously stronger. The raw physical power in her grip had effortlessly neutralized his own momentum, leaving him completely off-balance.

Joanna continued, entirely unbothered by his stunned silence. “I know Eric attacked you, and I caught him for you as part of my sincerity. I will also help you with medicine. I have antibiotics and even access to a doctor. I can save your arm, but only if you can work with me.”

Fletcher looked from her calm face down to his blood-soaked bandage, his mind racing to adjust to this terrifying new variable. The power dynamic in the room had shifted completely. He was no longer the one in charge interrogating a stray survivor; he was a desperate man receiving a lifeline from someone who held all the cards.

“Give me the antibiotics first, and it’s a deal,” Fletcher said, his voice tight,

Joanna didn’t hesitate. She dragged a small wooden table across the floor, positioning it directly in front of him. “I have another power, by the way,” she murmured casually.

Fletcher placed his blood-stained hand onto the surface, frowning up at her. “What-”

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