CHAPTER 289: CHAPTER 289: KEITH TYLER

Keith Tyler, one of the most famous football players, stood outside his house, staring speechlessly at the pile of human waste left right at his doorstep.

The pungent stench made him cringe, and for a moment, he wished he had never come here, wished he had never chosen this country for his vacation. Now, he truly regretted his decision.

If he were in his home country, he would have at least received respect, maybe even extra food, simply because of his name.

But here, in this foreign land, no one knew him. Ironically, that was the very reason he had chosen this place: to be unknown, to live quietly without fame. Who could have thought that an apocalypse would descend while he was here?

Since his brother-in-law said the situation was temporary and the zombies would be dealt with soon, he purchased only two months’ worth of supplies.

As the apocalypse dragged on and months turned into six, those rations were stretched to the limit, and now, they were completely gone. He was deeply regretting not having bought more.

The scorching heat waves continued to rise, and Keith wiped away the sweat forming on his pale face.

His blonde hair was drenched, clinging to his temples, and his black eyes scanned the surroundings in hopes of finding someone willing to sell even a bit of food.

But the place looked like hell. Everyone had shut themselves inside makeshift tents. The area was silent and lifeless; there was barely a soul in sight.

He cursed his luck for the thousandth time, realizing he was trapped in a place that didn’t even have basic facilities.

The base leader here had once been a police officer who had built this base to provide temporary shelter. But when people discovered the cop’s secret food stash, they turned on him, united, killed him, and looted his supplies.

Keith had opposed the murder, even reprimanding them for it. Because of that, he hadn’t received a single grain of food when they divided the cop’s stock.

Some even looked down on him for being pretentious. While others started to look at him as if he were an enemy.

Maybe it was their inner evil that didn’t allow them to associate with the only stable mind, or maybe they felt guilty; anyhow... they ignored Keith completely.

Now, Keith was beginning to realize that kindness in an apocalypse was no better than a death sentence.

He might not have cared much if he had been alone. But his wife, eight months pregnant, was with him.

When they had first arrived in this country, they hadn’t even known she was pregnant.

Only seven months ago, after she fainted unexpectedly, a check-up revealed the news.

Keith had been overjoyed then, wondering whether to return home or settle here permanently. But before he could decide, the lockdown hit.

The world collapsed. Supplies were cut off, and all his plans crumbled.

Now, his wife lay on the bed, her lips dry and cracked, her face pale and drained. She looked severely dehydrated.

Clenching his fists, Keith walked up to a neighboring house, thinking desperately that if he didn’t find her water, even a single glass, she might faint again, or worse.

She was already suffering enough. God only knew how she would survive until delivery.

He knocked on his neighbor’s door, but no one responded. Having no choice, he moved on to the next tent.

Just as he was about to knock, he heard voices inside, a conversation. Normally, he would never eavesdrop, but now desperation overruled decency.

From the other side of the tent, he caught fragments of words, "cheap food" and "good accommodation."

His heart leapt. If there was even a single base nearby offering cheap food or food on credit, he was willing to risk everything to get there. He leaned closer, straining to hear the name.

It was Silvy Base. The name sounded strange, but the people inside were discussing how several survivors had already left this area to join Silvy Base, located near Elro Hills.

Elro Hills... that name struck a chord. It was one of the tourist spots he had once planned to visit. He knew exactly where it was.

Hope flickered in his eyes as he knocked on the tent’s entrance. This time, the zipper opened.

A short man with a sharp face and a sarcastic smile appeared. "What do you want, Keith?" he sneered.

Keith stared at the man pleadingly. "My wife is pregnant. I need..."

Before he could finish, the man interrupted coldly.

"Don’t ask me for help. You’re the man with morals, aren’t you? Too good to steal, too righteous to lie? Then starve with your morals."

He began zipping the tent shut, but Keith quickly stopped him. "Please... I’m begging you. Just a little help."

The man ignored him. Desperation flashing in Keith’s eyes, he blurted, "Do you know anything about the Silvy Base?"

The man froze mid-motion, his eyes narrowing. Then he smirked.

"You should give up on that place. People like you aren’t allowed there. Only those with a good stock of crystals or valuable assets can enter."

Keith’s heart skipped. His eyes brightened. "I have..." He stopped himself, realizing it wasn’t safe to reveal his identity.

These people were desperate and greedy. If they knew who he really was, they might rob or kill him.

So instead, he lowered his head and continued to beg.

But this time, the man zipped the tent shut without another word.

Keith let out a heavy sigh and returned home. Inside, his wife lay pale and motionless, breathing weakly.

His chest ached at the sight. He crouched beside her, gently holding her in his arms.

"We need to leave," he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. "Leave? Keith, I... I can’t. My back hurts. I think..." Her voice trembled. "I think my water might break soon."

Keith froze, his mind spinning. Outside, the air was thick with death and heat. Inside, time was running out.

And for the first time, the world-famous football star felt utterly powerless.