Chapter 4: The Hustle
Over the next week, Maya and I became a team.
Not friends—not yet. We didn't know each other well enough for that. But we worked together like gears in a machine, each doing our part to gather the money we needed.
Maya took every shift she could get at the diner. Double shifts some days, working sixteen hours straight until her feet bled into her shoes. I watched her limp through the library on her off hours and felt guilty for not being able to help more.
But I had my own job to do.
Stealing.
I didn't like it. Both Ji-woo and Ethan had been raised to follow rules, even if those rules had never protected either of us. But the apocalypse was coming, and morality was a luxury I couldn't afford.
I started small. Convenience stores where I'd pocket granola bars and water bottles while buying gum with my last few dollars. The clerks never noticed—they were too busy with their phones or other customers.
Then I got bolder.
On July 30th, I hit a pharmacy. Went in with a backpack, browsed the first aid aisle, and loaded up: bandages, antiseptic, pain medication, antibiotics. Everything hidden under a jacket I wore despite the summer heat. I walked out with my heart pounding so hard I thought it would explode.
Total value: about $180 worth of medical supplies.
Cost: zero dollars and whatever was left of my conscience.
On August 1st, I stole from a sporting goods store again—different one this time. A camping water filter, emergency blankets, and a multi-pack of batteries. I was getting good at spotting blind spots in security cameras, at moving casually while my pockets filled with survival gear.
Each time I walked out without getting caught, I felt a mix of relief and disgust.
This is temporary , I told myself. After August 15th, none of this will matter. Stores will be looted anyway. I'm just getting a head start.
It didn't make me feel better, but it kept me moving.
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On August 1st at 2:47 PM, the power went out.
I was in the library when it happened. The lights died, the computers shut down, and the air conditioning stopped humming. For a moment, everyone just sat there in confused silence.
Then the emergency lights kicked in, and Margaret's voice came over the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing a power outage. Please remain calm and make your way to the exits in an orderly fashion."
I grabbed my backpack and found Maya waiting by the entrance. She'd come straight from her apartment when the power died.
"Prediction number two," she said quietly.
"Yeah."
We walked to a park and checked the news on Maya's phone. Power outage across the entire Pacific Northwest. Millions affected. Officials saying it was grid strain from record heat waves.
But I knew better. It was the System preparing to arrive. Infrastructure failing as Earth's rules started changing.
"How long will it last?" Maya asked.
"Six hours," I said. "Give or take."
"And then?"
"Then it comes back, and everyone forgets about it. Just another weird thing in a summer full of weird things."
Maya looked at the darkened buildings around us. "How much of this did the novel explain? Why the apocalypse happens?"
"Not really," I admitted. "The author focused on survival and fighting, not the why. There were theories in the comments—alien experiment, divine punishment, Earth's immune response to humanity. But nothing confirmed."
"So we're flying blind."
"We're flying with one eye open," I corrected. "Which is better than everyone else."
Maya pulled out her notebook and started writing. "Fourteen days left. Let's review what we have."
I sat beside her on the park bench. "Money first. How much?"
"Four hundred and sixty dollars. I picked up three extra shifts this week."
"I have... seventy." I'd sold some of my stolen goods to a pawn shop. The medical supplies alone had gotten me fifty bucks, even though they were worth way more.
"Five hundred thirty total," Maya calculated. "We need eight hundred for first month's rent, plus deposits probably. We're still short."
"I can get more," I said.
"How?"
I didn't answer directly. "There's a wealthy neighborhood on the east side. Big houses. People who won't notice if a few things go missing."
Maya looked at me for a long moment. "That's risky. Rich neighborhoods have better security."
"I know. But we're running out of time."
"Then we do it together," Maya said firmly. "You scope, I watch your back. If something goes wrong, two people can handle it better than one."
"You don't have to—"
"We're partners, remember? Partners don't let each other take stupid risks alone."
Something warm spread through my chest. Partnership. Trust. The things both my lives had lacked.
"Okay," I said. "Tomorrow night. After your shift."
---
The neighborhood was called Medina, and it was where Seattle's millionaires lived. Huge houses, private docks, security systems that probably cost more than a year of rent at Cascade View.
We chose our target carefully: a house that had newspapers piled up on the driveway. Nobody home, probably on vacation.
"I'll keep watch," Maya whispered. "You have ten minutes. If I whistle twice, someone's coming. Get out immediately."
"Got it."
The back door's lock was more complex than the Montgomerys', but I'd been practicing with YouTube tutorials and a cheap lock-picking set. It took me three minutes of sweating and cursing silently, but it opened.
Inside, the house was massive and empty and smelled like expensive furniture. I moved fast, hitting the master bedroom first. Found a jewelry box and took three pieces that looked valuable. Then the home office—found an envelope with $600 cash in a desk drawer. Emergency money, probably.
I took $300. Enough to make a difference, not enough to be worth chasing down.
In the garage, I found what I really needed: camping gear. A high-end tent, sleeping bags rated for cold weather, a portable camping stove with fuel canisters. All gathering dust like the owners had bought them for a trip they never took.
I loaded everything into my backpack, moving quickly but carefully. No breaking things. No obvious signs of theft. Just quiet, efficient grabbing.
Eight minutes.
I slipped out the back door, re-locked it, and jogged to where Maya waited in the shadows.
"Clear?" I whispered.
"Clear. Go."
We walked away casually, like we belonged in the neighborhood. Didn't run until we were four blocks away and my legs finally gave out.
"How much?" Maya asked, breathing hard.
I showed her the cash. "Three hundred."
"Plus the gear. That's at least another two hundred in value." She grinned. "We might actually pull this off."
"Still need a hundred more for rent."
"I get paid Friday. That's August 4th. If I work doubles for the next three days..." She calculated in her head. "We'll have nine hundred total. Enough for first month plus a small deposit."
"And if the landlord asks for more?"
"Then we negotiate. I'm good at that."
We returned to the library basement and laid out our accumulated supplies:
Money: $830 (and counting)
Weapons: One hunting knife, one multi-tool, one crowbar, one hammer
Medical: Bandages, antiseptics, pain meds, antibiotics
Survival Gear: Water filter, emergency blankets, camping stove, tent, sleeping bags
Tools: Rope, duct tape, nails, matches, batteries
Food: About a week's worth of non-perishables I'd stolen
"It's not enough," I said, looking at the pile. "For months of survival, we need way more food, more weapons, better defenses—"
"It's enough to start," Maya interrupted. "Once we're in that apartment, we have a base. We can stockpile more before August 15th. And after the System arrives..." She looked at me. "That's when the real preparation begins, right? With points and skills?"
"Right. If I remember correctly, early adopters who understood the System quickly got huge advantages."
"Then that's us. Early adopters." Maya started packing everything back up. "We secure the apartment this weekend. We stock it as much as we can before August 15th. And when the apocalypse starts, we're ready."
"You really believe me now," I said. It wasn't a question.
"The fish. The power outage. Your specific knowledge about what's coming." Maya met my eyes. "Yeah, I believe you. Which means in fourteen days, the world ends and our real work begins."
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