Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 369

Chapter 369 Caleb Makes Breakfast

CA 88

2+5 Pearls

No one said a word. The silence wasn’t awkward, just the heavy, contented quiet of people too tired for talking. They crossed the soft grass together toward the villa, its windows glowing warm and gold, and filed through the front door one by one. The scent of wood and clean linen met them in the entryway, and the long kitchen table stood waiting, exactly as they had left it. Boots came off by the door. One by one they drifted down the halls toward their rooms, doors clicking shut behind them until the villa was still again.

Joanna stood alone in the kitchen for a moment, swaying slightly, thinking of nothing but a hot shower and a very flat bed.

A heavy thump of paws came up behind her.

“My human,” said a voice, low and rumbling.

She turned. Bubbles stood a few feet away, and the sight of him tugged a tired smile out of her. His wounds had almost closed, thin pink lines threaded through his grey stripes where the fur was still growing back. He sat down in front of her with great ceremony, tail curled neatly around his paws.

“I am hungry,” he announced. Then, with enormous effort, he tilted his massive head, widened his round amber eyes to their fullest, and let out a small, hopeful, “Meow.”

It was meant to be adorable. It was not. Fifty pounds of muscle, fangs, and scarred shoulders, blinking up at her like a mountain lion attempting to look like a kitten, and the result was somehow more alarming than cute. His eyes glinted. The tip of his tail twitched with predatory focus. The “meow” came out like a rumble of distant thunder with a question mark stuck on the

end.

“Are you trying to look pitiful?” Joanna asked.

“I am looking irresistible,” Bubbles said with great dignity, still holding the pose. His ears slowly flattened for added effect. It made him look like he was about to pounce.

Joanna pressed her fingers to her eyes, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Then she sighed, long and put-upon, and dropped her hand.

“Fine. You earned it. You fought like a lion today.”

“Fierce and majestic,” Bubbles corrected, purring so loudly the floorboards seemed to hum.

“Fierce and majestic,” she agreed, and opened the pantry to find the biggest portion of meat she had.

The next morning, the villa smelled like smoke, and not the good kind.

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9:17 Sat, Oct 24

Chapter 369 Caleb Makes Breakfast

M

CA 88

+5 Pearls

One by one the team shuffled into the kitchen, hair sticking up, still moving like people who had fought a war the day before. Caleb stood at the stove in an apron that said Kiss the Cook, which no one remembered putting in the villa, proudly flourishing a spatula over a long table of plates.

“Breakfast is served,” he announced.

Nobody sat.

Fletcher leaned over the nearest plate and poked something with his fork. It made a sound like a boot hitting gravel. “What is this?”

“Eggs.”

“These are charcoal.”

“They’re well-done.”

“They’re cremated,” Briggs said, holding one up to the light. “I use less heat on a battlefield. I’d like to formally request that you not be allowed near fire.”

“You literally set a canyon on fire last night.”

“On purpose. With skill.”

Glacier sniffed a dark, flat disc. “And this?”

“Pancake.”

“It’s a coaster.”

“It’s a pancake with character.”

Will took a bite of the toast without hesitation, chewed for a long moment, and nodded with great sincerity. “It’s crunchy.”

“Thank you, Will,” Caleb said gratefully.

“I’m not sure it’s food. But it’s crunchy.”

Kailee, who had drawn on a new set of eyebrows with what looked like a brown marker, leaned toward him. “I’ll eat it for you, Will.”

“That’s very kind.”

“I’m being supportive,” she hissed.

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9:17 Sat, Oct 24

Chapter 369 Caleb Makes Breakfast

CG 88

+5 Pearls

Julian lowered his fork, perfectly composed. “Caleb. You can see the future. Did you not see this coming?”

“I specialize in timelines, not seasoning.”

“The timeline where you cooked was clearly a mistake.”

“Every timeline where I cook ends like this,” Caleb said, deflating. He set down the spatula with a long, wounded sigh. “Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll go back to making tea.”

“Please,” half the table said at once.

Jolie, who had been quietly watching the carnage with her chin in her hand, let out a sigh of her own. “Okay. Enough. Poor Caleb tried.” She stood, walked to the pantry, and pulled open the door. Inside, shelf after shelf held baskets and neatly wrapped paper boxes. She carried them out in stacks. “I’ve been saving these from that restaurant we raided on the way out of the city. I knew we’d need them eventually.”

The smell hit first. Butter and warm bread rolled across the kitchen like a wave, followed by sweet, rich cinnamon. She lifted the lids one at a time: a tower of golden, flaky biscuits still steaming, their tops glossy with honey; a tray of thick-sliced bacon, crisp at the edges and glistening; fluffy scrambled eggs the color of sunshine, flecked with chives; a pan of cinnamon rolls with cream cheese frosting melting down their sides; a bowl of fresh strawberries, red and impossibly bright; a jug of cold orange juice beaded with condensation.

Silence fell. Fletcher put a hand to his chest.

“Is this what heaven smells like?”

“Time doesn’t pass in the pantry,” Joanna said, slipping into a seat with a grin. “It’s all fresh.”

“Jolie,” Allen said reverently, “I love you. I’m sorry. I love you more than Boss.”

“Hey,” Joanna said.

“Don’t make me choose.”

Jolie passed biscuits around the table as the group dove in. Fletcher took one bite and made a noise that didn’t belong at breakfast. Glacier closed his eyes and said nothing, which, from him, was a sonnet. Briggs ate three biscuits in a row with the grim focus of a man in a duel.

“This is incredible,” Kailee mumbled, mouth full of cinnamon roll.

“You said that about Caleb’s toast,” Will said.

“I did not.”

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9:17 Sat, Oct 24

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