Supremacy In Apocalypse

Chapter 9

“You want to register a haven?” The worker looked around the hall before returning to Owen, the frown growing deeper.

The pen was still resting against the open register, but she made no attempt to write anything down.

“That is what I said,” Owen replied.

Behind him, someone nudged a companion with an elbow.

The worker’s gaze travelled down his body once more, lingering on the bloodstains around his shoulder before moving towards his injured leg.

“You look like you’re going to die any moment from now, and you’re talking about starting a haven?”

Owen glanced at the register. “Are you going to write my name down?”

“Do you even know the requirements?” she asked with a frown.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one to tell me that?”

“Then perhaps you should have found out before making that bold announcement.” The worker pushed the register farther across the desk. “You need a squad of people who can clear the place and protect it afterwards. Where is yours?”

Owen remained silent for a moment.

Behind him, the man who had moved out of his way gave a loud snort.

“Just look around you. He came here by himself.”

Several people laughed, and the man looked around at them before continuing.

“Unless he’s planning to pick his squad from the people sitting here. You should have said so earlier, my friend. Perhaps someone would have taken pity on you.”

Owen turned his head slightly.

The man adjusted the bag against his chest, although he didn’t move away this time.

“Well, where are they?” he asked. “We would all like to see these people who agreed to follow you.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Owen replied.

The man’s smile stiffened.

Owen had already turned back towards the counter. “Then tell me the rest of the requirements. I’ll decide whether I can meet them.”

“And I just told you.” The worker tapped the register with the end of the pen. “You need a squad, and you don’t even have that.”

She looked over his injuries again.

“Look at yourself. Who exactly are you going to lead out there? You can barely stand properly.”

Owen straightened his injured leg and met the worker’s gaze. “Is that your only concern?”

Someone laughed again, louder this time.

“He is out of his mind,” a man muttered. “Maybe he thinks he’s an Awakened and can bend the rules.”

“An Awakened looking like that?” The man near the entrance had lowered his bag by then and was leaning against the end of a bench, watching Owen with a broad smile.

Owen opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden commotion from the corridor interrupted him.

“Move a little. You’re blocking the entrance,” someone called from the corridor.

Several people turned towards the voice. A woman who had been laughing only moments earlier stood on her toes, trying to see past the people gathered near the doorway.

“What is happening over there?” she asked.

A man near the doorway lifted his chin towards the corridor. “Look at who just arrived.”

Someone near the entrance quickly moved a bag from the floor. The man leaning against the bench stepped aside as well, brushing a hand down the front of his shirt.

“It’s the new power couple,” a woman whispered excitedly.

The whisper carried farther than she probably intended. Heads turned across the hall, and a few people rose from their benches to get a better view.

Even the worker’s attention shifted towards the corridor, leaving Owen standing before the open register.

One of the women near the entrance leaned towards her companion. “I heard the lady left her husband for him.”

Her companion turned to her, eyebrows raised. “She was married before?”

“To some poor, useless man. Apparently, she finally came to her senses.”

A woman seated near the counter shook her head, although the smile on her face continued to widen.

“She really made the right decision. What is the point of staying with someone who can’t take care of you, especially with everything happening now?”

“Would you have stayed?” the woman beside her asked.

“Do I look like someone who enjoys suffering?”

The women around her laughed. One of them smoothed the front of her clothes and leaned sideways, trying to catch another glimpse through the doorway.

“Some women have all the luck,” she muttered.

The young man beside her clicked his tongue. “You haven’t even spoken to him, and you’re already behaving like this?”

She glanced at him. “Did I say I wanted to speak to him?”

“You practically stood on my foot trying to look at him.”

“Then move your foot.”

The young man pulled his leg beneath the bench and folded his arms, his gaze following hers towards the entrance.

Another man stood with his hands in his pockets, studying the approaching couple. When the woman beside him sighed, he turned towards her with a frown.

“What is so special about him?”

The woman barely spared him a glance. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

The people near the doorway shifted apart, and through the space between them, Owen finally saw the couple walking into the hall.

Rebecca had her arm wrapped around Jerry’s, her head tilted towards him as she laughed at something he was saying.

Owen’s jaw tightened as his gaze fell towards her feet. She walked beside Jerry without the slightest hesitation, occasionally moving closer whenever someone stepped into their path.

Jerry rested his hand over hers and continued speaking, wearing the same smile Owen had seen beside the evacuation bus.

Rebecca raised her head, her eyes passing over the people watching them. She smiled at one of the women near the entrance before looking towards the registration counter, where her gaze met Owen’s.

The smile disappeared from her face, and she stopped so abruptly that Jerry took another step before noticing.

He turned towards her, his lips already moving, but Rebecca’s fingers had tightened around his arm. Jerry followed her gaze towards the counter.

Jerry’s mouth remained open, but he didn’t finish what he was saying. His eyes widened, moving over Owen’s face before dropping towards the blood covering his clothes. The hand resting over Rebecca’s slipped away, hanging awkwardly by his side.

Rebecca’s lips parted as she stared at Owen.

“You... you’re supposed to be dead.”