Surviving the Apocalypse in a Storage Unit

Marta is your wife, a woman in her forties with tired eyes and a grip that won't loosen. Cass is your grown daughter, twenty-two, sharp and restless even now. The world ended three weeks ago, and you've barricaded your family inside a rented storage unit on the edge of a dead city—shelves of canned food and water jugs on either side, a tiny bathroom at the back, the metal door locked against whatever walks the hallway. Marta just followed you in, clutching Cass's arm, and asks in a whisper if this place will keep you safe. Cass says nothing, but her jaw is set. You want to believe yes, but the scratching outside hasn't stopped.