"How about that? I told you—without my say-so, you're not walking out of here with a single bottle. Now put every last one of those back on the shelf where you found them. You hear me?!"
I glanced at the time. Less than five hours until the end of the world.
I still had a mountain of daily necessities to prepare. Rush hour was in full swing. Getting to the next supermarket would take forever. And worse, Owen's phone call had probably already sent shockwaves through the store's internal network. By the time I drove to another location, the shelves would be stripped bare.
Without water, my family wouldn't survive the three months of hell that were coming.
I'd been given a second chance at life, and instead of saving everyone, I'd dragged my family and Clay down with me.
The more I thought about it, the more panic clawed at my chest. Tears burned behind my eyes.
Owen was still running his mouth.