CHAPTER 301: APOCALYPSE ROMANCE 11

The driver drove like a madman. His hands gripped the wheel tight, his eyes sharp as he swerved through wrecked cars and falling debris. Every turn felt like a split-second decision between life and death.

"Left!" Alvaro shouted. "Down that alley!"

He knew the city like the back of his hand—every shortcut, every cracked road, every place that could collapse at any second.

Sasha held onto the car’s interior so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her mouth was dry, but her mind was running fast.

Somewhere nearby was her custom armored car—the one she had parked days ago.

That car was her fortress: heavy armor, reinforced windows, and even bulletproof cupholders. She made sure that she could access it near where Alvaro had prison her.

A thunderous sound made her look up. A whole section of the highway broke apart and came crashing down two blocks ahead. The explosion of dust and concrete sent shockwaves through the street.

The driver slammed the gear into reverse, spinning the car around debris with impossible skill. The tires screamed as they gripped the broken asphalt.

Outside, a man stood in the middle of the road, completely still, one hand raised like he was praying. Dust covered him from head to toe.

Sasha’s voice came out shaky, half a joke and half despair. "I always wanted a dramatic exit," she muttered, "just not this early."

The radio crackled back to life—static and a half-broken news report. "—evacuate downtown—unknown entities—military response—" Then silence.

The signal died. The city was losing power fast. The lights flickered once and went dark, leaving everything in a dim, orange glow from the fires.

And then—something massive moved beneath them.

The ground tilted violently. The metal frame of the car screamed. The world flipped upside down as if some giant hand had thrown them aside like toys.

Glass shattered. The sound was like rain made of knives.

Sasha blacked out for a moment.

When she woke up, everything was quiet except for a high-pitched ringing in her ears. Smoke hung thick in the air. The smell of burning plastic and gasoline filled her nose.

She coughed and tried to move. Every bone in her body protested, but nothing felt broken. She was alive. Somehow.

She turned and froze. The driver wasn’t moving. Blood pooled under his seat—dark and steady. The others groaned around her, hurt and dazed.

A man nearby was staring at his hands, trembling, then suddenly screamed like the world had ended all over again.

Sasha looked for Alvaro.

He was still breathing. His left arm was torn up, but could be patched up, blood soaking through his shirt. He spat blood to the side and cursed under his breath.

"L-let’s get out of here," Sasha said, voice shaking. "Now."

The doors wouldn’t budge. The frame was crushed. Men pushed and kicked until, finally, one side gave way with a shriek of metal.

They crawled out one by one, like survivors being peeled from a nightmare.

Sasha stood, unsteady. Her knees wobbled. Her legs felt like they were filled with needles. But she forced herself to look up.

The sky was a hellish painting of smoke and red light. Massive mosquito-like creatures hovered above the ruins, their wings slicing the air.

From the cracks in the streets crawled monsters—things that looked like they were built from nightmares and machinery. Their bodies clicked and hissed, their mouths grinding like broken gears hungry for flesh.

The air smelled of hot metal and ozone—and the fear of a city falling apart.

Something gurgled wetly nearby. Sasha spun around. A pale, half-dead creature stumbled toward her. Its head lolled to the side, mouth opening and closing like it wanted to taste her skin.

Bang!

Alvaro’s gun went off. The creature’s skull exploded. It dropped instantly, twitching once before going still.

Sasha let out a shaky laugh—half hysterical, half grateful.

She ran to Alvaro and caught him as he swayed. He was heavy, blood dripping down his side, but he was still alive. Barely.

His guards forgot that they were guards and ran in all direction to escape.

I couldn’t blame, at this point, all men to themselves and money and power no longer important.

"Shit," she muttered. "We need to move. Now."

He gave her a crooked grin through the blood. "You better not leave me here," he said. "I just saved your life."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "If you can speak such nonsense then you’re fine."

They leaned on each other, limping away from the wreckage. Every step was a struggle. They stuck to the shadows, moving through the narrow alleys where the light couldn’t reach and monsters were less likely to fly overhead.

They walked fast when they could, slow when they couldn’t. Every noise—every crack of metal, every distant scream—made Sasha’s pulse jump.

She knew where they needed to go.

Her custom armored car was parked a few blocks away. That thing could survive almost anything. Without it, they were basically naked in a war zone.

Every time she glanced at Alvaro, she analyzed him like a machine. His shirt was soaked, his face pale, but his hands—his hands were steady.

He reloaded his gun with calm, practiced skill. Every movement was clean. No wasted effort. No shaking. He wasn’t panicking—just surviving.

It was frustratingly impressive.

They ducked into a narrow service lane, the kind of place where dumpsters stank and shadows crawled. The air was thick and foul, but at least it wasn’t open sky.

Above them, two giant mosquitoes buzzed past, their shadows sliding over the walls like black waves. Sasha held her breath until the sound faded.

Then came another noise—a strange clicking, almost mechanical, echoing from behind them. It wasn’t human. It was hunting.

"Keep moving," Sasha whispered.

Alvaro winced but followed, his limp growing worse.

He finally broke the silence. "You were right. I should have listened to you."

Sasha looked at him. She angry, yes. Because he could have better prepare. But it was pointless to start the blame game now.

The most important thing right now was to survive.