The Apocalypse's Safe Zone Minimarket

Chapter 8: The Officer and the Orphans

"Host Arman," the system's voice chimed coldly inside his head. "The runners will intercept the targets in exactly eight seconds. Do you wish to authorize a localized shield bypass?"

"Yes! Bypass it! Open the door!" Arman screamed, dropping his crowbar and sprinting toward the shattered glass entrance. "Don't let them get caught!"

"Localized human-filtering bypass authorized," the system responded instantly. "Opening threshold in five seconds. Please ensure target alignment."

"Hey! Kids! Over here! Get inside the store!" Arman roared, waving his tactical flashlight frantically to cut through the heavy red mist. "Hurry! Run toward the golden light!"

The boy with the silver whistle gasped, pulling a younger girl by her wrist. "Look! There’s a light! Someone’s in there! Run, Nina!"

"I'm trying! My foot hurts!" the girl sobbed, her small legs pumping as fast as they could. "It's too dark!"

From the thick red haze behind them, a sudden flash of gunpowder illuminated the dark street.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Keep running, kids! Don't you dare stop!" a sharp, authoritative female voice barked from the shadows. "Do not look back!"

"Oh my god, someone is shooting out there!" Mr. Bambang yelled, ducking low behind the checkout counter. "Arman, is that the police? Are we being rescued?"

"I don't care who it is, as long as they're human!" Arman shouted back, bracing his boots near the broken aluminum frame. "Mr. Bambang, get ready to grab those kids the second they cross!"

"I'm ready! I'm ready! Just don't let those things in!" the older man whimpered.

The four mutated runners were gaining ground, their elongated, insect-like limbs scraping against the wet asphalt with a horrific clicking sound.

"Warning," the system chimed again, its tone entirely devoid of panic. "Runners are within ten meters of the targets. Interception in four seconds."

"I can see that! Shut up and keep the filter open!" Arman yelled at the empty air.

"Who are you talking to, Arman?" Mr. Bambang shrieked. "There’s no one there!"

"Not now, Mr. Bambang!" Arman roared.

Bang! Bang!

Another two shots rang out, but they only seemed to graze the lead runner, which let out a wet, furious hiss.

"Go, go, go!" the woman in the vest commanded, her figure finally bursting through the crimson fog. She wore a faded police tactical vest over a dark shirt, her face smudged with soot and blood. "Into the store! Now!"

"Miss! Get them in here!" Arman screamed, shining his flashlight directly at her. "The entrance is open!"

"What the hell is that glowing gold light?" she shouted back, her eyes widening in suspicion as she saw the shimmering dome. "Is that a chemical hazard?"

"It's a barrier! It's safe for humans! Just run through it!" Arman yelled. "Trust me, if you stay out there, you're dead!"

The three children reached the threshold first. They hesitated for a split second, terrified of the glowing, translucent light.

"Don't stop! Trust me, it won't hurt you!" Arman pleaded, reaching his hands past the barrier. "Jump!"

The boy with the whistle took a leap, dragging the other two children with him.

They passed through the golden barrier as if it were nothing but warm air, collapsing onto the tiled floor of the store.

"We're alive... we're actually alive!" the boy panted, clutching his sister tightly. "Nina, are you okay?"

"My knee... it hurts," she wept, rubbing her scraped joint.

"Mr. Bambang, pull them back into Aisle One! Now!" Arman commanded.

"I've got them! Come on, little ones, follow me! Stay low behind the instant noodles!" Mr. Bambang scrambled forward, ushering the weeping children behind the heavy metal shelves. "You're safe now. Here, take some water."

Outside, the woman backed up toward the entrance, keeping her handgun pointed at the oncoming runners.

Click. Click.

"Damn it! Empty!" she hissed, tossing the spent magazine onto the wet ground.

"Lady, jump!" Arman yelled, extending his arm past the barrier. "They're right on top of you! Give me your hand!"

The leading runner leaped, its jaw splitting into four wet mandibles, claws outstretched to shred her back.

"Get over here!" Arman roared.

He lunged forward, grabbing the shoulder strap of her tactical vest and hauling her backward with all his might.

"Hey! Let go of—" she started, but the force of his pull dragged her clean across the golden threshold.

"System, reactivate the shield! Now!" Arman screamed.

"Re-engaging Golden Sanctuary Shield," the system announced.

Bzzzzzt!

The golden barrier snapped back into full density.

The lunging runner's arm had already crossed the line, reaching for the woman's throat.

Squelch!

The instant the shield solidified, it sliced through the monster's muscular arm like a hot wire through butter.

"Skreeeee!" the beast shrieked, a horrific, high-pitched wail of agony echoing through the quiet street.

The severed limb fell to the tiled floor, right next to the woman's boots, and immediately dissolved into a cloud of glittering, harmless golden dust.

The remaining runners slammed face-first into the impenetrable dome.

Thud! Thud!

They clawed frantically at the glass-like forcefield, but their claws slid harmlessly off the golden light. Within seconds, the passive energy of the shield flared, vaporizing another of the beasts and forcing the rest to scatter back into the red fog.

"Haa... haa..." Arman collapsed onto his back, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his teeth. "We... we did it. Everyone's inside."

"What... what just happened?" the woman gasped, sitting up rapidly. She stared at the empty space where the runner's arm had been. "Did that light... did it just cut that thing's arm off?"

"Yeah," Arman panted, wiping sweat from his face. "It's a defensive shield. It doesn't like monsters."

"Are you kids okay?" she asked, turning her head toward the back of the store, ignoring Arman for a moment.

"We're okay, Officer Cruz!" the boy with the whistle called out from behind the counter. "The nice old man gave us some water!"

"Good," she muttered, letting out a long, shaky breath. "Good."

Before Arman could even process her next movement, she rolled over, pinned his chest to the floor with her knee, and drew a sleek, black tactical knife from her belt.

She pressed the cold, razor-sharp edge directly against his windpipe.

"Now," she whispered, her voice cold, hard, and entirely devoid of gratitude. "You’re going to tell me exactly who you are, what the hell this place is, and how you're running a high-tech forcefield in the middle of a city-wide blackout. Speak. Now."

"Whoa, whoa! Easy!" Arman choked out, his hands flying up in surrender. "I just saved your life!"

"I saved my own life, kid," she spat, her eyes narrowing as she pressed the blade slightly firmer against his skin. "You just dragged me into whatever weird science experiment you're running here. Don't play dumb. I saw the way you talked to the air."

"It's not a science experiment!" Arman squeaked, trying to keep his neck as far from the blade as possible. "It's a system! Like an artificial intelligence in my head! I swear!"

"An AI in your head?" she repeated, a look of profound skepticism crossing her features. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm a detective. I don't believe in fairy tales, and I certainly don't believe in convenience store clerks with superhero powers."

"Officer Cruz, please!" Mr. Bambang yelled, poking his head out from behind Aisle One, his hands raised. "He's telling the truth! He saved me too! He turned some giant demon dogs into fairy dust earlier! He's a good kid! He works here!"

"Stay back, old man!" Valentina snapped, not breaking her gaze from Arman's eyes. "I don't know who you are either, but you're going to stay right where you are."

"Please, miss," the boy with the whistle pleaded, stepping out from behind Mr. Bambang. "He helped us. He opened the light for us."

Valentina gritted her teeth, her gaze flickering to the children for a brief second before locking back onto Arman. "You've got five seconds to give me a logical explanation before I find out how tough your skin is. Who built this shield?"

"The Savior System!" Arman gasped, his lungs straining under her weight. "It's an apocalyptic survival system! It activated when I gave away my last chocolate milk to a starving kid! I don't know why it chose me, but it did! It lets me upgrade this store into a Safe Zone!"

"A Safe Zone?" she muttered, her grip loosening just a fraction, though the knife remained firmly against his throat. "And you expect me to believe you bought a forcefield with chocolate milk?"

"The system called it 'The Last Savior' token," Arman explained quickly, his words rushing out in a desperate torrent. "It rewards empathy. If you don't believe me, ask your own eyes! Did you see any wires powering that shield? Did you see any generators in the street?"

"There's a generator in the back," Mr. Bambang offered helpfully. "But it's in a pocket dimension! It doesn't make any noise!"

"A pocket dimension," Valentina repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Are you people high? Is there a gas leak in this store?"

"If there was a gas leak, those monsters outside would have eaten us by now!" Arman argued. "Look at the sky! Look at the red fog! Nothing about tonight is normal! Why is a glowing golden shield the hardest thing for you to believe?"

She stared down at him, her dark eyes searching his face for any sign of a lie. Her chest heaved with exhaustion, her police uniform torn and stained with sweat and grime.

"Because," she whispered, her voice softening just a fraction but remaining deadly serious, "technology like this doesn't exist. Not here, and not in any military lab I've ever heard of. If you're lying to me..."

"I'm not lying!" Arman yelled. "If I wanted to hurt you, why would I open the shield? Why would I risk my own life to drag you inside? I could have just let those runners tear you apart!"

She remained silent for a long moment, the hum of the silent store the only sound between them.

"He's right, Officer," Mr. Bambang said quietly. "He didn't have to save any of us. But he did. He's just a regular kid who didn't want to see us die."

Slowly, with deliberate caution, Valentina eased the pressure on the knife. She didn't sheathe it, but she slid her knee off his chest and stood up, keeping her guard raised.

"Get up," she commanded, gesturing with the blade. "But keep your hands where I can see them."

"Thank you," Arman coughed, rubbing his sore neck as he scrambled to his feet. "You're welcome for the rescue, by the way."

"Don't push your luck, kid," she warned, scanning the well-lit aisles of the Prima Mart. "We're not even close to being even."