The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse
Chapter 52: A World Beyond Comfort

Chapter 52: Chapter 52: A World Beyond Comfort

The sound of Mallory’s boots scuffing against the pavement echoed through the eerily silent streets. The remnants of their last escapade—rescuing survivors from the underground facility—still weighed on her mind, but she masked her unease with a nonchalant whistle. Scraps padded along beside her, his floppy ears twitching as he kept a watchful eye on their surroundings.

Behind her, the rest of the group moved cautiously. Kaelyn was scouting ahead with her usual precision, her crossbow slung over one shoulder. Zara and Vanessa flanked the survivors they’d freed, providing a sense of security to the shaken individuals. Altair lagged slightly, his tablet in hand as he scanned for potential threats. Blinky sat perched on Mallory’s shoulder, his bulbous eyes blinking rhythmically as if he were keeping time with her whistle.

The group reached an abandoned diner that seemed relatively intact compared to the surrounding buildings. Mallory pushed open the door with her wrench, peering inside cautiously. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and rust, but it was otherwise empty.

"We’ll rest here for a bit," Kaelyn announced, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The survivors shuffled in silently, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. Mallory leaned against the counter, fiddling with the jukebox that had somehow survived the apocalypse. After a few clicks and a gentle kick, the machine came to life, sputtering out a faint tune.

"Seriously?" Kaelyn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" Mallory shrugged. "A little music never hurt anyone. Besides, it’s not like zombies hate jazz."

Zara smirked. "You don’t know that. Maybe they were hardcore jazz enthusiasts before they turned."

"Great," Mallory replied dryly. "I’ll add ’zombie music critics’ to my list of apocalypse concerns."

The banter lightened the mood, and even some of the survivors managed faint smiles. Altair set up his tablet on one of the tables, projecting a map of the area.

"We’re here," he said, pointing to a blinking dot. "The beacon we were tracking is another twenty miles northwest. If we keep this pace, we should reach it in two days."

Mallory groaned. "Two days of walking? My feet are already protesting."

"You’ve been in better shape than you realize," Vanessa said, smirking. "All that wrench-swinging must be paying off."

Mallory shot her a glare but didn’t argue. The truth was, she had been feeling stronger lately, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the constant adrenaline or Blinky sneaking protein bars into her fridge.

The survivors settled into quiet conversations, their voices low but filled with tentative hope. Mallory noticed a young girl clutching a ragged teddy bear, her wide eyes darting nervously around the room. Feeling a pang of sympathy, Mallory rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a packet of cookies.

"Hey," she said softly, crouching beside the girl. "Want a cookie? They’re apocalypse-approved."

The girl hesitated before nodding, taking the cookie with a small smile.

"See?" Mallory said, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her. "Even the end of the world can’t stop snack time."

As the group rested, Mallory’s thoughts drifted to the past. She remembered the days when her biggest problem was deciding what TV show to binge. Now, she was part of a ragtag team of apocalypse survivors, risking her life to save others.

Her musings were interrupted by Zara, who plopped down beside her with a dramatic sigh.

"Can’t believe you fixed a jukebox before I got coffee," Zara said.

Mallory grinned. "Priorities, Zara. Music is soul food."

"Speaking of food," Zara said, lowering her voice, "how’s the fridge situation? Still spitting out gourmet meals?"

"Better than ever," Mallory replied. "I think it’s evolving. Last week, it gave me a crème brûlée with the perfect caramelized top. It’s starting to feel like a personal chef."

"Jealous," Zara said, nudging her playfully.

Their lighthearted exchange was cut short when Kaelyn returned, her expression grim.

"We’ve got company," she said, her voice low.

The group tensed immediately.

"Zombies?" Mallory asked, clutching her wrench.

"Worse," Kaelyn replied. "Raiders."

Mallory’s stomach sank. Raiders were a different kind of danger—ruthless, unpredictable, and often more deadly than zombies.

"They’re heading this way," Kaelyn continued. "We’ve got maybe five minutes to decide what to do."

Altair quickly shut down his tablet, and the group sprang into action. The survivors were ushered into a storage room at the back of the diner, with Zara and Vanessa taking defensive positions near the windows.

Mallory found herself crouched behind the counter with Kaelyn, gripping her wrench tightly. Blinky clung to her shoulder, his tentacles quivering as if sensing the tension.

The raiders arrived moments later, a group of six heavily armed individuals. They didn’t bother with subtlety, kicking open the diner door and fanning out with practiced ease.

"Well, well," one of them drawled, his voice thick with menace. "Looks like we’ve got ourselves a cozy little hideout."

Mallory’s heart raced as she peeked over the counter. The raiders were rough-looking, their clothes patched and dirty, their faces hardened by years of survival.

Kaelyn motioned for her to stay down, but Mallory couldn’t resist whispering, "Why do bad guys always have to make dramatic entrances? Can’t they just knock?"

Kaelyn shot her a warning look but couldn’t suppress a faint smirk.

The raiders began rifling through the diner, their leader barking orders.

"Find anything useful. Food, water, weapons—whatever these losers left behind."

Mallory’s grip on her wrench tightened. She glanced at Kaelyn, who gave a subtle nod.

The plan was simple: wait for the right moment, then strike hard and fast.

That moment came when one of the raiders tried to pry open the jukebox, muttering about hidden compartments.

"Not the jukebox!" Mallory hissed, springing to her feet.

Before she could think better of it, she swung her wrench, knocking the raider off balance. The sound of his helmet clanging against the floor echoed through the diner.

Chaos erupted.

Kaelyn fired her crossbow with deadly accuracy, while Zara and Vanessa launched a coordinated attack from their positions. Mallory found herself in the thick of it, dodging punches and swinging her wrench with surprising precision.

"Why do they always have to mess with the music?" she grumbled, ducking under a raider’s swing.

The fight was short but intense, and by the end of it, the raiders were either unconscious or fleeing. The group regrouped, panting but victorious.

"Well," Vanessa said, wiping her blade clean, "that was fun."

"Fun?" Mallory echoed, glaring at her. "I almost got my face punched in!"

"But you didn’t," Zara said, clapping her on the back. "And you nailed that guy with the wrench. Impressive."

Mallory sighed, leaning against the counter as her adrenaline began to fade. "Next time, let’s pick a hideout that doesn’t attract every psycho within a five-mile radius."

Kaelyn smirked. "Where’s the fun in that?"

As the group began cleaning up the aftermath, Mallory couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment.