Apocalypse Ground Zero: Refusing To Leave Home-Chapter 20: A Second Tail

"You’ve bought almost every snack in the city," Chenghai said, his tone flat as he watched me examine a bag of gummy bears like it was a matter of national importance. "You don’t need more."

I dropped the bag into the basket he was carrying—because of course he was carrying it—and reached for another. "But these are different. See? These have the sour coating."

"They’re all sugar."

"Exactly. Variety is important."

I would fully admit that I was getting a bit worried over how fast everything was progressing. The infection hadn’t reached here yet, but we were weeks ahead of the timeline I had in my head, and I was going to use every second I could to get more supplies.

Zhou Chenghai made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. "You have a housekeeper. You could ask her to buy snacks for you."

I turned to look at him, my expression innocent. "But if I do it that way, how can I annoy you?"

His jaw tightened and for a brief moment, I thought he might actually put the basket down and walk away. But he didn’t. He never did. That was the thing about Chenghai—he complained constantly, but he never actually left.

"You’re impossible," he muttered.

"Thank you."

"That wasn’t a compliment."

"I’m choosing to take it as one."

I moved to the next aisle—chocolate bars this time—and he followed, the basket growing heavier with each addition. Behind us, the snack aisle stood noticeably emptier than it had been five minutes ago, but Chenghai was too busy glaring at me to notice. The stockroom in back had lost three pallets of rice, two of canned vegetables, and an entire shelf of cooking oil. All of it gone in the seconds when he’d been distracted by my gummy bear selection.

Perfect.

I picked up a chocolate bar, examined it, put it back. Picked up another. Chenghai made another exasperated sound.

"Are you going to do this with every single item?"

"Probably."

"We’re going to be here all day."

"Then you should have stayed home."

"Zhenlan told me to—" He stopped mid-sentence, his attention shifting. His posture changed—subtle, but I’d spent enough time around him to recognize it. Alert. Focused. His hand moved slightly toward his hip.

I followed his gaze.

A man stood at the far end of the aisle. Tall, lean build, dark jacket. He was pretending to look at protein bars, but his attention was fixed on us.

Well, on me, specifically.

His stance was too controlled, too deliberate. Professional.

I’d noticed him three aisles ago.

Chenghai’s expression hardened. "Wait here."

"Why?"

"Just wait."

He handed me the basket and walked toward the man, his movements controlled but purposeful. I watched him go, internally amused. This was going to be interesting.

The man didn’t move as Chenghai approached. He just stood there, calm and unbothered, like he’d been expecting this.

Chenghai stopped a few feet away, his voice low but carrying enough that I could hear it. "You’ve been following her."

The man didn’t deny it. "And you’ve been watching me watch her."

"I’m her bodyguard. What’s your excuse?"

"I don’t need to give you one."

"You’re following a woman through a grocery store. Yeah, you do."

The man’s expression didn’t change. "She’s not your concern."

"She is my charge. Of course I am going to be concerned when strange men start stalking her."

"Stalking." The word came out flat, unimpressed. "I’m observing."

"That’s what they all say."

I set the basket down and walked over. Both men turned to look at me—Chenghai with barely concealed frustration, the stranger with something that might have been curiosity.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, my tone light.

"No," Chenghai said immediately.

"Yes," the stranger said at the same time.

I looked between them. Two grown men, both trained, both refusing to back down, both standing in the middle of a grocery store like they were about to start a territorial dispute over the protein bars.

It was almost funny.

Almost.

"You’re making a scene," I said softly, looking around.

"He’s following you," Chenghai replied, his voice flat.

"And you’re confronting him in public," I pointed out. "Which is drawing more attention than him just standing there."

Chenghai’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew I was right.

I turned to the stranger. "Are you going to keep following me?"

"Yes."

At least he was honest.

I sighed. "Fine. Since clearly neither of you has anything better to do than follow me around while I buy snacks, you might as well both stay. Together."

Both men stared at me.

"Together," Chenghai repeated, his tone suggesting I’d just proposed something deeply offensive.

"Yes. That way I can keep an eye on both of you, and you can stop pretending the other one doesn’t exist."

The stranger’s expression shifted—something that might have been amusement flickering across his face before disappearing. "That’s not necessary."

"It is if you want to keep following me," I said. "Otherwise, I’m calling the police and reporting a stalker."

There was a beat of silence.

Then the stranger inclined his head slightly. "As you wish."

Chenghai looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He just picked up the basket I’d abandoned and followed as I walked back to the chocolate aisle.

Both men trailed behind me—Chenghai close, the stranger maintaining distance. Neither acknowledged the other. It was like watching two magnets repel each other while being forced into the same space.

I picked up a chocolate bar and examined it with exaggerated focus.

Behind me, the tension was thick enough to cut through.

Perfect.

I moved through the store at my usual pace, picking up snacks with one hand while the other brushed against shelves and displays. Every touch transferred weight into my space—flour, sugar, salt, baking supplies from the storage closet behind the bakery counter.

The men were too busy watching each other to notice the way inventory seemed to shift and settle, the way shelves looked slightly emptier after I passed.

Near the beverage section, I paused to examine a bottle of juice. Behind the swinging doors, the back storage room held pallets of water, sports drinks, energy drinks. I could see them through the small window—stacked high, wrapped in plastic, waiting.

I picked up the juice bottle and turned it over to read the label.

The storage room emptied and thousands of pounds of liquid, gone in an instant. The concrete floor stood bare except for dust outlines where the pallets had been.

I put the juice in the basket Chenghai was still carrying and moved on.

He didn’t notice. Neither did the stranger. They were too focused on each other—Chenghai positioning himself between me and the other man, and the other man adjusting his stance to maintain line of sight, both of them moving through the store like dancers who refused to acknowledge they were performing the same routine.

It was absurd.

It was also incredibly useful.

I picked up a bag of chips and behind me, an entire shelf of canned goods vanished. I examined a box of cookies and three pallets of rice disappeared from the stockroom. I reached for candy and commercial-sized containers of cooking oil transferred into my space with barely a whisper of displaced air.

By the time we reached the checkout, I’d cleared out half the store’s back inventory.

And all anyone would see on the security footage was a rich girl buying snacks while two men glared at each other in the background.

I paid for my basket—maybe sixty dollars worth of candy, chocolate, and chips. The cashier smiled. I smiled back. Normal. Unremarkable.

The receipt printed. I took it, thanked her, and walked toward the exit.

Both men followed.

Outside, Chenghai’s car sat in the parking lot where we’d left it. The stranger’s sedan idled near the entrance, engine running, positioned for a quick departure.

Chenghai opened the passenger door for me, his movements sharp. "Get in."

I slid into the seat, watching as he loaded the bags into the trunk. The stranger stood beside his sedan, arms crossed, watching us. Waiting.

Chenghai got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. "He’s going to follow us."

"I know."

"You’re not concerned?"

I shrugged. "Should I be?"

He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head and pulled out of the parking lot. In the side mirror, I watched the stranger’s sedan fall into position behind us—not close, but visible.

Persistent.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"No one you need to worry about."

"That’s not an answer." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"It’s the only one you’re getting."

I settled back in my seat, watching the sedan maintain its distance. Chenghai’s hands were tight on the steering wheel, his attention split between the road and the rearview mirror. The stranger drove with the same controlled precision he’d shown in the store—patient, observant, refusing to back down.

This was going to escalate.

And honestly?

I was looking forward to it.