The lingering heat of a long summer finally broke at the end of September, ushering in autumn. Prism City, however, hadn't gotten the memo. Daytime temperatures still soared above 90 degrees, but the moment the sun dipped below the horizon, the mercury plummeted, leaving everyone shivering and complaining about the crazy weather.
In a nondescript rental house on the south side, the window AC unit rattled and buzzed. Beneath it, in a cramped 150-square-foot studio apartment, Zephyr Kane sat on the lower bunk of a bunk bed, eyes glued to the television.
A week ago, Zephyr had never used the TV for anything other than sports, let alone watched the midday news. But now, he was fixated, not on the news itself, but on the clock. At precisely 12:45:51 PM, something important was supposed to happen.
"...Now for some international news. A scientific team has announced the discovery of a prehistoric supervirus in the Siberian permafrost. This is the fourth such giant virus discovered. Scientists made the discovery a year ago but only recently went public. They're still studying it and don't yet know if it poses a threat to humans or animals. Experts assure us that as long as the permafrost remains frozen, there's no cause for alarm…"
"There it is!" Zephyr shot up, checking his phone. 12:45 – right on the money. "Three for three," he muttered, staring at the screen, his mind elsewhere. He already knew the news, down to the minute it would air. He'd also known about several other seemingly minor international incidents over the past week.
He hadn't developed precognitive abilities. A week ago, something called the "Etherscope" had appeared in his mind, feeding him information about future events. The most critical was the virus discovery, because it confirmed another chilling piece of information from the Etherscope: a viral outbreak, the end of the world.
The other news stories – world leaders skipping summits, last-minute cancellations of international trips – hadn't made headlines, but Zephyr understood their significance. Governments were quietly preparing, aware of the impending disaster but unwilling to spark mass panic. The virus announcement was a final, veiled warning.
In ten days, at 2:00 PM, the world would change forever. People were going about their lives, oblivious, scrolling through Twitter and Facebook, sharing the virus news with a shrug.
Zephyr knew better than to post about it online. Doomsday predictions were a dime a dozen; he'd be dismissed as another crackpot. He might even attract unwanted attention from the authorities.
Even he had been skeptical at first. It was only with the confirmation of the virus news that the reality of the situation sunk in.
He had one week. He immediately started prepping. He ordered bulk supplies online – rice, beans, flour, high-energy bars, bottled water, a first-aid kit, a windbreaker, sturdy boots, and even a knife from a local sporting goods store.
He'd always had a morbid curiosity about the apocalypse, so he already had a mental checklist and had even researched survival tips online. Those once-silly forum posts were now invaluable.
But his biggest challenge was yet to come. The Etherscope wasn't just a newsfeed; it was a futuristic AI that offered survival strategies and the ability to modify and upgrade machinery. He needed a vehicle, preferably something with space. He ruled out sedans immediately – too fragile. Off-roaders were the popular choice, but he preferred something bigger. He dreamed of a massive eighteen-wheeler, but that was unrealistic. He settled on a cargo van or a minibus, leaning towards the latter for its passenger capacity.
The problem? He was broke. After stocking up on supplies, he had less than a grand in his account. He'd sell his house in a heartbeat, but it was long gone, sold years ago after his parents died to pay for his and his sister's education.
Selling his electronics wouldn't bring in nearly enough. Robbery wasn't an option. Renting was expensive – even a basic minibus cost over a thousand dollars a day. He needed fifteen grand, plus the cost of materials for modifications.
The deadline loomed. Lying in bed, Zephyr struggled to breathe. This was a lot for a college student to handle.
He opened Facebook and messaged his roommate, Griffin. "Griffin Jones, you there?"
Griffin, sporting a "via iPhone 16 Pro" tag, replied instantly, "See my new post?"
Zephyr noticed the new phone. "That thing must have cost a fortune."
"A grand wouldn't even get you the first batch. I paid a premium – fifteen hundred," Griffin bragged.
Zephyr sighed. He couldn't fathom spending that much on a phone. "Listen, I need to talk to you. Are you free next Tuesday?"
"Next Tuesday? Got a hot date. Taking this girl from Tinder to a bar. Hoping to seal the deal, you know?"
Zephyr winced. "I was thinking of a game night. Locked in the dorm, just us."
"Seriously? Skip a date for video games? No way," Griffin replied.
Zephyr sighed. He'd tried. "Griffin, I really need that two hundred bucks you owe me."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get it to you," Griffin said dismissively.
"I need it now. It's…life or death," Zephyr pleaded.
"That serious? Hold on, gotta take this call. Talk later."
Griffin never called back. Zephyr messaged another roommate, Mike. "Mike, can you lend me two grand?"
"Dude, I'm broke. Spent my allowance on games. I was gonna hit you up for food money. What's up?"
"It's fine," Zephyr replied, knowing Mike was a lost cause. "Mike, just…stay in the dorm next Tuesday. Lock the doors and windows. Don't go out."
"What? Why?" Mike asked, confused.
"Just do it," Zephyr said, hanging up. He'd done all he could. He was on his own. He needed another plan, fast.