Bab 4: Chapter 4: Gathering Allies
Arnold spent the next few days in a state of constant preparation. His training sessions at the abandoned warehouse became more intense as he pushed himself to the limits of his endurance. The [Shadow Boxing] skill was proving invaluable, sharpening his reflexes and enhancing his combat abilities in ways that even the most rigorous training couldn't have achieved alone. But Arnold knew that physical strength alone wouldn't be enough to survive the coming apocalypse. He needed allies—people he could trust, who would fight alongside him when the world descended into chaos.
He began to think about the people he had known before the apocalypse, those who had survived the initial wave of destruction and had proven themselves in the harsh new world. Some of them were long dead, victims of the beasts or other survivors. But there were a few—key individuals—who had made a difference, who had risen to positions of power or influence. If he could find them now, before the apocalypse began, he might be able to recruit them and strengthen his chances of survival.
One name stood out in his mind: Marcus Keller. Marcus had been a former soldier turned survivalist, a man who had built a reputation for being a resourceful and relentless fighter during the apocalypse. Arnold had met him only briefly in his previous life, during a skirmish over a supply cache. Marcus had been a loner, distrustful of others, but his combat skills were unmatched. He had survived longer than most, only to be taken down by a beast during a desperate raid.
If Arnold could convince Marcus to join him, he would have a powerful ally. But finding him before the apocalypse began would be tricky. In his previous life, Marcus had lived off the grid, avoiding the authorities and anyone else who might pose a threat. Arnold had to rely on what little he remembered about Marcus's past—rumors, offhand comments, and the brief conversations they'd had.
Arnold spent hours scouring the internet for any information that might lead him to Marcus. He knew that Marcus had a military background, so he started by looking up old service records, news articles, and anything else that might give him a clue. Eventually, he found a lead—an article from a few years ago about a reclusive former soldier living in the outskirts of the city, who had been involved in a legal dispute over land ownership.
The location was a small cabin near the edge of the national forest, far from the city and prying eyes. It sounded like the kind of place Marcus would choose to live—a place where he could be alone, where he could prepare for the worst without interference.
Arnold wasted no time. He packed a small bag with essential supplies—a few days' worth of food and water, a map, and a knife—and set out for the cabin. The journey took him out of the city and into the more rural areas, where the air was fresher and the landscape less crowded. As he walked, he thought about what he would say to Marcus, how he would convince him to join forces. Marcus was a pragmatist; he would only agree if Arnold could prove he was worth the risk.
After a few hours of hiking, Arnold finally reached the cabin. It was exactly as he had imagined—a small, weathered structure nestled among the trees, with a chimney that emitted a thin trail of smoke. The area was quiet, almost unnervingly so, with only the sounds of nature to break the silence.
Arnold approached cautiously, scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement. He knew Marcus would be on high alert, always prepared for an intruder. As he got closer, he saw the glint of something metallic in one of the windows—a rifle barrel, pointed directly at him.
"Stop right there," a deep voice called out from inside the cabin. It was gruff, commanding, and unmistakably Marcus.
Arnold raised his hands slowly, showing that he was unarmed. "I'm not here to cause trouble. My name is Arnold Evans. I just want to talk."
There was a tense silence, the rifle still trained on him. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open slightly, and Marcus stepped out. He was exactly as Arnold remembered—tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that showed the wear of years spent in harsh conditions. His eyes were sharp, suspicious, and never left Arnold's face.
"Talk," Marcus said, his voice low and menacing.
Arnold took a deep breath. He knew this was his one chance to make his case. "I know what's coming," he began, keeping his voice steady. "The world is about to change, and it's going to be worse than anything you've ever faced. I've seen it. I know how it starts, where the first attacks will happen, and what we need to do to survive."
Marcus didn't react, but the rifle didn't lower. "You're crazy," he said flatly. "Get off my land before I decide you're not worth the trouble."
"I'm not crazy," Arnold insisted. "I'm from the future."
That got a reaction. Marcus's eyes narrowed, and he tightened his grip on the rifle. "You really think I'm going to believe that?"
"No," Arnold admitted. "But I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to listen. If I'm right, we can prepare together. If I'm wrong, you can throw me out and never see me again. What do you have to lose?"
Marcus seemed to consider this, his eyes flickering over Arnold as if assessing his worth. Finally, he lowered the rifle slightly, though he didn't put it away. "You've got five minutes. Start talking."
Arnold quickly laid out what he knew—about the coming apocalypse, the emergence of the beasts, and the collapse of society. He spoke about the safe zones, the supply caches, and the factions that would rise from the chaos. He didn't sugarcoat anything; he told Marcus exactly how bad things would get and how important it was to be prepared.
To his surprise, Marcus listened without interrupting. He didn't scoff or dismiss Arnold's claims outright. Instead, he asked questions—specific, probing questions that showed he was taking Arnold's words seriously. Arnold answered them as best as he could, drawing on his memories of the future and the knowledge he had gained from the system.
When he finished, there was a long silence. Marcus stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he spoke. "You sound like you know what you're talking about. But I've heard doomsday predictions before, and most of them are bullshit. Why should I trust you?"
Arnold had been expecting this question, and he was ready with his answer. "Because I'm not asking for your trust," he said. "I'm asking for a chance to prove myself. Give me a week. If nothing happens, I'll leave, and you can go back to your life. But if I'm right, we'll be ready when the apocalypse comes."
Marcus studied him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "One week," he agreed. "But if you're lying, you won't get a second chance."
Arnold exhaled, relieved that Marcus was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't a full commitment, but it was a start. "I won't waste it," he promised.
For the next week, Arnold stayed at the cabin, working alongside Marcus to prepare for the apocalypse. They fortified the cabin, stockpiled supplies, and trained together. Marcus was an experienced fighter, and he pushed Arnold hard, testing his limits and honing his combat skills. It was grueling, but Arnold knew it was necessary. He couldn't afford to be anything less than his best when the world ended.
During their time together, Arnold also learned more about Marcus—his past, his motivations, and why he had chosen to live alone in the wilderness. Marcus had seen too much of the world's darkness, and it had made him cynical and wary of others. But Arnold could see that, deep down, Marcus was still a soldier at heart, someone who wanted to protect what was left of the world, even if he didn't fully believe it was worth saving.
As the days passed, Marcus began to warm up to Arnold, though he never fully let down his guard. They developed a mutual respect, each recognizing the other's strengths and the value they brought to the partnership. Arnold knew he had made the right choice in seeking Marcus out. With Marcus by his side, he felt more confident about their chances of surviving the apocalypse.
On the seventh day, as they sat around a small campfire outside the cabin, Marcus finally spoke about the future. "So, let's say you're right, and the world does end in a month. What's the plan?"
Arnold looked into the fire, his mind racing with possibilities. "First, we gather more allies. There are others out there who can help us—fighters, medics, strategists. People who will be essential when things go south. Then, we secure the supply caches and set up a safe zone. We'll need a base of operations, somewhere defensible where we can build our strength."
Marcus nodded, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "And after that?"
"After that," Arnold said quietly, "we survive. We fight, we adapt, and we do whatever it takes to make it through the apocalypse."
Marcus stared into the fire for a long moment, then nodded again, more firmly this time. "I'm in. But remember this, Arnold—trust is earned. You've got a lot to prove."
Arnold smiled faintly. "I know. And I will."
As the fire crackled between them, the two men sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. The world was about to change, and they
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Power 
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