Logan turned away from the reinforced steel doors of his bunker. Ashton Hayes stood at the edge of the property line.​Ashton was a middle aged neighbor from across the street. During Logan's fifteen years of torment in the Bennett household, Ashton was the only person in Silver Lake who had ever treated him with basic human decency.​When Madison deliberately starved Logan, Ashton had secretly slipped him warm meals over the garden fence.​"Mr. Hayes," Logan said respectfully. He walked over to the heavy wrought iron gates to greet the older man.​"I just wanted to check on you, son," Ashton said warmly. He looked up at the massive concrete walls of the new Hawthorne fortress with wide eyes.​"I am incredibly relieved to see you finally doing well for yourself," Ashton continued. "You are free from the cold looks of that terrible family. You deserve this peace."​Logan felt a rare, quiet warmth in his chest. In his past life, Ashton had frozen to death very early in the apocalypse. T

"Mason, watch out!" Sienna screamed.​The carbon arrow tore through the freezing air. It grazed Mason's cheek and left a thin line of welling blood.​The projectile slammed into the concrete pillar behind them. It pinned the lead thug by his leather shoulder strap.​The man roared in agony. He clawed at the heavy carbon shaft piercing his flesh. Hot blood sprayed across the rapidly accumulating white snow.​Mason staggered backward. He touched his bleeding face in shock.​He looked from his stained fingers to the razor sharp arrow embedded deep in the concrete.​"He shot at me," Mason whispered. His voice trembled with raw fear. "He actually tried to kill me."​"Logan, what are you doing?" Madison shrieked at the solid steel door. "Open this door right now!"​"You said this was an easy job," the wounded thug grunted. He yanked at the heavy arrow shaft but it held fast.​"It is just a rich kid," Mason stammered. He tried to project authority over his hired muscle. "He is bluffing. Brea

"Having structural issues over there, Preston?"​Logan projected his voice through the exterior loudspeakers. His amplified words cut cleanly through the howling blizzard and echoed across the dark neighborhood.​He sat comfortably in his plush leather command chair. The room temperature rested at a cozy seventy five degrees.​A crystal glass of vintage French red wine rested in his hand. The rich liquid warmed his throat as he watched the destruction unfold.​A deafening crash had just echoed across the wealthy enclave of Silver Lake. Logan kept his eyes glued to the wall of high definition thermal monitors.​The custom skylight of the Bennett mansion had just caved in. The extreme thermal shock had shattered the thick glass into a thousand deadly fragments.​A funnel of -80 degree wind was currently tearing their living room apart.​Other wealthy neighbors peeked through their thick velvet curtains at the violent noise. The lethal cold kept everyone locked tightly inside their own d

"Look at the fat rendering on this cut of meat." Logan held his smartphone over the hot cast iron stove.The thick wagyu ribeye hissed loudly against the heated metal. He tossed a sprig of fresh rosemary and a knob of garlic butter into the pan. The rich, savory aroma filled the bunker kitchen.The thermostat on his wall displayed a cozy seventy five degrees. He wore a soft cotton t-shirt and loose sweatpants.Outside, the morning sun failed to pierce the unnatural gray clouds. The five hour weather forecast broadcasted last night was a deadly lie. The blizzard still raged at a lethal negative eighty degrees Celsius.Logan recorded a high definition video of his breakfast. He panned the camera to show the bubbling beef broth simmering on the adjacent burner. He captured the warm, golden lighting of his secure kitchen.He opened the Silver Lake community group chat. He dropped the video file into the thread and pressed send.He set his phone down on the granite countertop. He picked up

"I am not doing it!" Preston roared. He hurled his smartphone across the freezing room.The device bounced off the canvas tarp and hit the icy floorboards. It slid to a halt near Mason's twitching feet."He is a stray dog!" Preston screamed. His breath plumed in the dark air. "I will not kneel for a peasant!"Mason let out another agonizing, wet shriek. His eyes rolled back into his head."It is just a fracture," Madison rationalized. She covered her ears to block out the horrific sound of her son dying."Bones heal on their own," Madison babbled frantically. "He just needs to rest. We do not need Logan's charity."She scrambled into the attached master bathroom. She tore through the mahogany cabinets in the dark.She threw expensive skin creams and designer colognes onto the floor. She found nothing but empty plastic bottles and useless vitamins. There was no medicine left.Back in the study, the discarded smartphone lit up on the ice.A notification chime pierced the heavy silence.