Rewrite the Apocalypse dream (by Dee Cari) novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49 Seafood too?

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Finished

By the end of the third week, all three plots were completely prepped. Three massive, hidden underground craters sat waiting beneath the isolated fields, perfectly shaped to receive their steel safe houses. Joanna swept the bulldozer back into her pocket dimension one last time, completely satisfied with their progress. The road to Evercrest was officially being carved out, one trench at a time.

When they arrived back in Aurora, Jake killed the engine of the truck and checked his phone, reading a status report from the fabrication foreman. “The off-grid contractors are finishing up the structural reinforcements,” he said, turning to Joanna. “The shipping container shelters will be ready for placement in exactly one week. We’ll need to plan one more trip to drop them into the trenches we dug.”

“Perfect timing,” Joanna said, stepping out of the truck. “Let’s check on the girls.”

The moment they walked into the warehouse, the rich, savory scent of dehydrated spices and smoked meat hit them. Jolie was waiting in the makeshift kitchen they built, a pristine stack of fully completed inventory towering in front of her.

“Welcome back, dirt-movers,” Jolie said with a proud grin. “While you two were playing in the mud, Raven and I have been turning our operational strategy into reality. Most of the supplies are organized and ready for you to sweep up, Joanna.”

The space was meticulously organized. Stacks of specialized, insulated plastic crates and heavy- duty burlap bags were sorted by category. Row after row of medical supplies-trauma kits, antibiotics, surgical tools, and field bandages-were packed tightly into weatherproof containers. Next to them, the weaponry was completely locked down: the custom crossbows Jake had designed sat alongside bundles of arrows, sharpened steel spears, and the barbed- wire-wrapped metal bats, all ready for maximum damage. Heavy-duty winter bedding and sleeping mats were vacuum-sealed into tight, space-saving bricks.

Raven stepped forward, holding a sleek, light-weight vacuum pouch. The eleven-year-old looked confident, her quiet demeanor replaced by a sense of purpose. “I helped Jolie prep the mobile rations, Joanna,” Raven explained, pointing to the neatly organized rows of backpacks lining the shelves. “We packed quick, high-calorie meals for the team. If we have to move fast, nobody has to stop to cook.”

Jolie nodded, tapping a row of heavy tactical packs. “We prepped premium canned goods, high-protein jerky, dried fruits, and calorie-dense ration bars. Every single pack is completely loaded with enough food and basic medical gear to keep one person self-sufficient for up to three weeks while we’re on the move. All you need to do is put them in your space.”

Joanna looked over the massive, flawlessly organized stockpile, a profound wave of relief settling into her chest. With Jake’s custom weapon fabrications, Jolie’s flawless resource mapping, and Raven’s dedication to the team’s survival, their survival plan was rapidly taking

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11:28 Sat, Oct 3

Chapter 49 Seafood too?

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“You guys did an incredible job,” Joanna said, stepping toward the first row of medical crates and extending her hand to begin consuming the stockpile into her vastly expanded pocket dimension. “Let’s get this loaded. Next week, we bury the bunkers.”

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Jolie also pointed to one more table. “I have empty bins and burlap sacks along with other containers empty for future harvesting of your crops. Want me to order more of them to take with us when we leave?” Joanna agreed and told her team to rest up. They would meet the next day after morning training to go over the remaining logistics and discuss the remaining budget. Thanksgiving weekend will be here in six weeks.

The following morning, the apartment vibrated with the raw energy of a completed sunrise workout. Sweaty, breathing hard, but tightly synchronized, the entire team gathered back in the living room. Jake and Raven took the couch, while Jolie leaned against the kitchen counter, pen in hand.

Joanna stood at the center, immediately diving into the logistical blueprint. “Listen up. The next six weeks are going to be a brutal routine,” she announced, her voice flat with urgency. “Mornings belong to Jake-pure combat training and lethal weapons handling. We need muscle memory before the clock runs out. But our afternoons will be spent right here, sorting the fresh produce harvests from my space into Jolie’s new packing crates.”

Raven leaned forward, her eleven-year-old eyes bright with curiosity. “Hey Joanna? Since the crops grow so fast… do you think we could get seafood too? Like fresh fish or shrimp?”

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