Shane drove, his mind a tangled mess.
The picture Leon had painted , neighbors who’d stab each other for half a loaf of bread, lunatics who’d bite anything that moved — played on a loop in his head like a film reel he couldn’t shut off.
He was a cop.
His job was to protect people, keep the peace.
And now some Asian kid he’d known for all of three days was telling him that order was about to become a punchline.
The worst part?
He believed it.
He pulled a long drag from his cigarette.
The tobacco burn did nothing for the churn in his chest.
Then the new phone , the one Leon had left on the passenger seat — rang.
He checked the screen.
Leon.
“Something else?” he asked.
“One last thing, Officer Walsh.”
The voice was calm.
Same as always.
“I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“Once, and I’m saying once, the prediction comes true and society collapses, what do you think people go for first?”
Shane frowned.
That one was easy.
“Food.
Water.
Gas.
Medicine.”
“And?” Leon pressed.
“When people figure out money is just paper and fists are the only currency left, what are they going to need most to hold onto that food and water?”
Shane’s grip tightened on the wheel.
“Guns.”
“Guns,” Leon agreed.
A faint smile entered his voice.
“The gun shops downtown.
The outdoor sections at the big-box stores.
Imagine how that’s going to look.”
The image hit Shane all at once — panicked crowds hammering through glass doors, people shooting each other over an AR-15, over a Glock, over anything.
Law-abiding citizens.
Soccer parents.
Church deacons.
All of them stripped down to pure survival instinct, and that instinct was ugly. This story is hosted at g.com.
“Gun shops will be slaughterhouses, Shane.”
Leon named it exactly.
“Under an hour, the shelves are bare.
The only things left on the floor are shell casings and a dozen bodies.”
“But there’s one place,” Leon said, shifting gears.
“More weapons than every gun shop in town put together.
All of it locked behind thick steel doors.”
Shane’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel.
He already knew.
The King County Sheriff’s Department’s…
Armory.
“That key,” Leon said, almost offhand.
“It’s hanging on the wall in the sheriff’s office right now, isn’t it?”
Shane’s throat went dry.
“What are you asking me to do?
Steal it?
Leon, that’s a felony.”
“Felony?” A soft laugh.
“When the law is already dead, who’s left to convict you?”
A beat.
“Shane.
That’s not just a key.”
“It’s a shield for Lori and Carl.
It’s the reason you and Rick have a fighting chance once he wakes up.”
“It shouldn’t be hanging on some wall, waiting for a bureaucrat to get bitten to death at his desk.”
“It should be in your pocket.
In the hands of someone who knows what’s coming.”
Silence.
Shane could hear his own heartbeat.
Stealing the Armory key.
The thought took root the moment it formed, spreading through his chest like vines through a cracked wall.
Leon was right.
If the world really did go under, those cold racks of steel in the Armory would be the only truth left.
Fighting blood-crazed strangers at a gun shop for scraps , or walking out with the best-stocked weapons cache in the county.
“Fine.”
He squeezed the words out through his teeth, then killed the call.
He didn’t know if he trusted Leon.
He needed to think.
He floored it.
The cruiser surged toward the King County Sheriff’s Department.
…
In the cabin’s basement, Leon set down the phone.
Done.
All he had to do now was wait for Shane to put that key in his hand himself.
He’d do it.
Leon was sure of that.
He turned around and found Lee Mi-ju standing at the foot of the stairs, watching him with an unreadable look on her face.
She’d heard the call.
Obviously.
“Some things,” Leon said, “you’re better off not having heard.”
He didn’t bother pretending otherwise.
“I…
I didn’t hear anything.”
She dropped her gaze quickly.
She was depending on Leon for payment.
Burning this down served her no purpose at all.
The smart move was to keep her head down and her mouth shut, and she was smart enough to know it.
Leon walked past her and headed upstairs.
“Take care of him.
Take care of yourself.” He paused at the door.
“Tonight I’ll bring your mother over, and everything else you need.
Starting tonight, you’ll both be staying here for a while.”
He pulled the door open and left.
Lee Mi-ju watched his back until the doorway swallowed him.
Then she turned and looked at the man lying motionless on the bed in the basement.
A strange feeling crept over her.
Absurd, almost.
She’d boarded a pirate ship , one sailing straight into an abyss she couldn’t see the bottom of.
But what did it matter.
She just needed the money.
➤ Next: Prestige Is Earned Through Your Own Fists