The Lazy Chronicles: Apartment of the Apocalypse
Chapter 78: The Price of Peace

Chapter 78: Chapter 78: The Price of Peace

The apartment was buzzing with tension the next morning. Despite the fact that their trade agreement with Cara had gone relatively smoothly—or at least without gunfire—the encounter with the armed group lingered in everyone’s mind. Mallory, ever the reluctant heroine, sprawled on her couch, staring at the glowing ceiling panels that had evolved to mimic natural sunlight.

"This whole apocalypse thing was supposed to be low-maintenance," she muttered. "Now we’ve got zombie hordes, rival survivor factions, and Cara’s drama to deal with. I didn’t sign up for this."

"Technically, none of us signed up for this," Greg said, passing through the living room with a tray of snacks. "And yet, here we are."

Harper flopped into an armchair beside Mallory, munching on a handful of the popcorn Greg had just made. "I don’t know about you, but I think we handled yesterday like pros. I mean, sure, we almost got shot, but nobody actually got shot. That’s a win."

Ryder, leaning against the doorframe with his usual brooding expression, didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm. "They’ll be back. Groups like that don’t just let things slide. They’ll want revenge—or worse, control."

Mallory sighed dramatically. "Why can’t they just focus on surviving? Like normal people? Build a bunker, hoard some canned peaches, chill out."

Greg set the tray down on the coffee table. "Not everyone has an apartment that evolves into a fortress, Mallory."

"Which is why I don’t leave it unless absolutely necessary," she said, pulling a blanket over her head. "Wake me up when the apocalypse is over."

"Not an option," Alex said as he joined the group. He tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto the table. "Cara sent a note this morning. She wants to meet again."

Harper snatched the paper and read it aloud: "’Urgent. We need to talk. Bring the group.’ That’s it? No details? No ’PS: Don’t worry, this isn’t a trap’?"

"Short and sweet," Greg said. "Classic Cara."

Mallory groaned. "Fantastic. Another day, another dramatic rendezvous. At this rate, we should start charging for appearances."

---

The group arrived at the fire station just before midday. Cara was waiting for them in the garage, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

"I wasn’t sure you’d come," she said as they entered.

Greg gave her a polite nod. "Your note made it sound important. What’s going on?"

Cara gestured for them to sit around a makeshift table. She leaned in, her voice low. "The group you encountered yesterday—they call themselves the Iron Teeth. They’ve been terrorizing survivor camps across the area, demanding supplies, forcing people into servitude. And now that they know about us, we’re in their crosshairs."

Mallory raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a you problem."

Cara’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her tone even. "It’s an everyone problem. If they take us out, they’ll come for you next. You’re not invisible, no matter how good you think you are at hiding."

Ryder nodded. "She’s right. Bullies like that don’t stop until someone stands up to them."

"Okay, but why does that someone have to be us?" Mallory asked. "I’m not exactly built for heroics. I’m more of a... sarcastic bystander."

Harper snorted. "You’re not wrong, but you’re also the one who usually ends up in the thick of things anyway."

Cara cut through the banter. "Look, I’m not asking for charity. We’ve got supplies, weapons, and people who can fight. But we need a plan, and I think you can help."

Greg exchanged glances with the others. "What kind of plan are we talking about?"

Cara’s expression hardened. "One that sends a message. We take the fight to them."

---

The plan, as it turned out, was surprisingly straightforward: lure the Iron Teeth into an ambush. Cara’s group would handle most of the fighting, while Mallory and her team provided backup and strategic support.

Mallory was less than thrilled. "So, let me get this straight. We’re bait?"

"Essentially," Cara said.

"Fantastic," Mallory muttered. "Just call me Zombie Apocalypse Barbie."

The group spent the next few hours preparing for the ambush. Greg and Ryder worked with Cara’s people to set up traps, while Harper focused on organizing supplies. Mallory, ever the reluctant participant, found herself assigned to "morale duty," which apparently involved making sure Blinky didn’t wander into any tripwires.

"I can’t believe this is my life now," she said as she watched the glowing robot pet chase a moth around the garage.

Alex, who had been quiet most of the day, finally spoke up. "You’re handling it better than most would."

Mallory gave him a skeptical look. "You mean better than you?"

Alex smirked. "Maybe."

---

By nightfall, everything was in place. Cara’s group took up hidden positions around the fire station, while Mallory and her team waited inside as decoys. The tension was palpable as they listened for any sign of the Iron Teeth’s arrival.

Mallory, trying to lighten the mood, whispered, "So, what’s the over-under on this plan blowing up in our faces?"

Harper grinned. "I’m betting it’s fifty-fifty."

"Generous," Ryder muttered.

The sound of engines roaring in the distance cut through their whispered banter. Mallory’s stomach dropped as she peered out the window and saw a convoy of vehicles approaching.

"They’re here," she said, her voice barely audible.

The Iron Teeth didn’t waste any time. They stormed into the fire station with weapons drawn, barking orders and demanding supplies. Cara’s people waited until the intruders were fully inside before springing the trap.

What followed was pure chaos. Explosions rocked the building as makeshift grenades detonated, sending the Iron Teeth scrambling for cover. Cara’s fighters emerged from the shadows, taking advantage of the confusion to launch their attack.

Mallory and her team stayed in the relative safety of the back room, providing support where they could.

"This is insane," Mallory said as she watched the battle unfold.

"Welcome to the apocalypse," Alex said, pulling her down as a stray bullet shattered a nearby window.

---

The ambush was brutal but effective. By the time the dust settled, the Iron Teeth were either dead or retreating. Cara’s group had taken some losses, but their victory was undeniable.

Cara, bloodied but unbowed, approached Mallory and the others as they emerged from their hiding spot. "You did good today."

Mallory raised an eyebrow. "Define ’good.’"

Cara managed a faint smile. "You’re still alive, aren’t you?"

"Debatable," Mallory muttered, but she couldn’t deny the sense of relief that washed over her as the danger passed.

As they made their way back to the apartment later that night, Harper turned to Mallory with a grin. "Admit it. You kind of enjoyed that."

Mallory rolled her eyes. "I enjoyed not dying. That’s about it."