Apocalypse Ground Zero: Refusing To Leave Home

Lingyun knew they were getting close when the red shipping crane appeared above the warehouse roofs.

It stood over the old freight yard like a rusted skeleton, its long arm cutting across the grey sky while shipping containers and abandoned trucks filled the lots below. In his last life, the crane had become the easiest way to direct newcomers toward the black market without giving them an address anyone could trace.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself. He was content leaving the past in the past, but apparently, some things were just inevitable.

"Turn right after the blue containers," Lingyun instructed, leaning forward between the front seats. "Then follow the fence until you reach the loading docks."

Chenghai glanced at him in the mirror. "You’ve been here before?"

"Not since the apocalypse," Lingyun replied easily, shrugging his shoulders. "The Triad used the freight yards long before anyone decided zombies were a reasonable addition to society."

It was close enough to the truth that he didn’t need to think about the lie.

Yuche sat beside Rouxi in the back seat, one arm stretched behind her shoulders while her injured leg rested across Lingyun’s lap. Rouxi had spent most of the drive insisting that her ankle was fine, usually while wincing every time the SUV hit a crack in the road.

Lingyun ran one hand lightly over the top of her boot. "Still attached?"

Rouxi lowered her sunglasses enough to glare at him. "Touch it again and I’ll detach something from you."

His grin widened. "Promise?"

She pushed the sunglasses back into place and leaned harder against Yuche, clearly deciding that ignoring him was less exhausting than winning the argument.

Lingyun settled back in his seat, still smiling while the old district unfolded around them.

He knew every entrance.

The loading dock ahead led into the public market. The narrow lane behind the cold-storage warehouse ended at a guarded stairwell. Two storm drains connected to service tunnels beneath the buildings, and the eastern fence had a section that looked reinforced but could be opened from inside.

At least, it could once he owned the place again.

The black market had belonged to someone else when Lingyun first found it in his previous life. The man had called himself Head Luo and expected everyone beneath him to be grateful for the privilege of being robbed.

Lingyun hadn’t been grateful.

He had taken the market one room at a time, burned everyone who refused to understand the change in management, and left Head Luo alive just long enough to watch his people switch sides.

After that, the market had grown.

It was known for its neutral territory, protected trade, healers, weapons, food, and information. There was enough frightened people in the world to make almost anything profitable. Lingyun had controlled it until the end, and no one had tried to challenge him twice.

Taking it now should be easier.

Probably much easier.

His power had been crude in his last life. Strong, certainly, but anger had directed more of his fire than he ever had. If he wanted something gone, he burned the entire area and sorted through the ashes afterward.

Now, he could feel the well inside himself.

The fire remained bright red and impatient, but it listened. He could pull a flame thin enough to pass through a lock without heating the door around it. He could burn flesh without touching cloth, or seal a wound before the blood hit the floor.

Rouxi had given him that.

She had made him look inside himself, then dragged his worst memories to the surface until his power shook the vehicle. She had praised his control afterward, and that single word had settled somewhere inside him more permanently than it should have.

Everything about this life was better.

He had Rouxi. He had Yuche without years of distance and resentment growing between them. He had a mansion, food, safety, and people he would happily burn the world down to keep.

Lingyun wasn’t like Zhenlan and Chenghai, staring at a fucking gift horse and asking why it had appeared.

He was keeping the horse.

He would feed it, hide it in the mansion, and kill anyone who tried to take it away.

That was why he kept his mouth shut about remembering another life. Rouxi didn’t need to know. Yuche didn’t need to know. No one needed to know anything that might change what Lingyun had now.

Mostly, he kept his mouth shut in general.

And he was doing very well.

Chenghai parked beside the loading dock, where two armed guards stood behind a barricade made from pallets and welded fencing. Lingyun climbed out first, then hurried around to Rouxi’s side before Yuche could lift her.

"I’ve got her," he announced, a bright smile on his face.

Rouxi looked at his open arms. "No."

Yuche stepped out behind her and lifted her without asking.

Lingyun pointed at him. "Thief."

"You were warned," Yuche replied.

Rouxi wrapped one arm around Yuche’s neck and looked perfectly comfortable with the arrangement, which was deeply unfair. Lingyun recovered by opening the gate for them with an exaggerated bow.

The public market filled several connected warehouses. Generators powered strings of lights hung from the rafters, while stalls crowded the old loading lanes below. People traded canned food, medicine, ammunition, clothing, and cores beneath the watch of armed guards positioned along the upper walkways.

It was smaller than Lingyun remembered.

Messier too.

There were too many blind corners. Guards clustered together instead of spreading out. Sellers blocked emergency exits with tables, and the current head had allowed three different groups to collect fees within twenty meters of one another.

So embarrassing.

Lingyun kept his smile in place and led them past the core stalls toward a narrow section divided by hanging sheets. A woman sat behind a metal desk, cleaning blood from her hands while a younger man organized jars of herbs and scavenged medicine.

Her eyes dropped to Rouxi’s ankle. "White core."

Lingyun placed the stone on the desk.

The healer picked it up, held it toward the light, and frowned. "That won’t cover an injury like this."

Lingyun’s smile didn’t move. "You haven’t looked at it yet."

"I can see the swelling."

"So can I. That’s how I knew we needed a healer."

The woman’s gaze hardened. "Two white cores."

Lingyun leaned over the desk and rested both hands against the metal. His voice remained warm enough that Rouxi wouldn’t hear anything strange in it.

"You said one."

"I hadn’t seen the damage."

"And now you’ve seen my face." His smile widened slightly. "Would you like to change the price again?"

The healer studied him for several seconds before looking away first.

"One core," she muttered.

"See?" Lingyun said, straightening. "Everyone is reasonable eventually."

Rouxi snorted as Yuche lowered her onto the cot. "You threatened her."

"I smiled."

"You smiled threateningly."

"I can’t help being expressive."

The healer removed Rouxi’s boot and pressed careful fingers around the swelling. Rouxi flinched once, then glared like the pain had personally insulted her.

The woman’s hands began to glow faintly as she worked. "The joint isn’t broken, but the ligaments are damaged. I can reduce the swelling and repair most of it. Don’t put too much weight on it for the rest of the day."

Rouxi nodded as though she had heard the words, but Lingyun knew she had absolutely no intention of following them.

While the healer worked, he looked through the gap in the hanging sheets toward the market beyond.

The upper office still overlooked the central warehouse. Two guards stood outside the staircase, both watching the crowd instead of the hallway behind them. A third leaned against the railing and ate from a bowl while people passed beneath him.

Lingyun recognized the symbol stitched onto their sleeves.

Different head.

Same office.

He tilted his head, studying the weak points while Rouxi argued with the healer about whether walking counted as abusing her ankle.

This place was practically begging him to take it.