Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 141: The Hancocks Split Their Bet

"And Kingston—we need to find him. Now that you're powerful enough to go up against Vere, everyone has to respect you. Just show up in person, and nothing is impossible.

"Harvey, please. Say something to put my parents at ease."

Mariella walked out to the courtyard. Aside from the injured Number Six and the sick Number Ten, every teammate was drilling.

Matthew and Serena were training, too. Chandler and Number One took turns giving them one-on-one instruction.

Most of the time, though, father and daughter trained alongside the rest of the team—hand-to-hand combat, blade work, shooting drills.

"Dr. Lester, come here a moment." Mariella beckoned Matthew over.

Matthew broke from the drill and jogged over.

Mariella gave him a few quiet instructions. He listened, nodding.

The team kept drilling, but eyes were drifting sideways.

"Focus! Eyes forward!" Chandler barked. Then, brow slightly drawn, he asked, "Number Ten still not feeling well?"

Number Five answered quickly. "She took the medicine Dr. Lester prescribed. The cramps are better, but she still has no energy. She's resting upstairs."

Matthew walked over to Number Two. "Ms. Townsend wants you to move into Number Three's room temporarily. Take Number Four's old bunk. Number One gets his own room from now on—deputy captain's privilege."

Number One froze, then instinctively looked toward Mariella.

She smiled at him.

Number One's face went red. He turned his head away, flustered.

"Anyone moving, go now. Everyone else, back to training!" Chandler blew his whistle.

Mariella glanced at Chandler. He was running the drill with total focus, not looking her way.

Hm. Was she imagining it, or did he seem slightly annoyed with her?

Before she could ask, Kieran's call came in.

Mariella's expression went serious. She stepped inside to take it.

...

"I'm staying at Celestine Ridge." Kieran's decision wasn't his alone—it was the family's.

Wallace had ultimately decided to split the Hancocks into two tracks: one group relocating to the government disaster shelter, the other holding Celestine Ridge.

Whatever happened next, the Hancocks wouldn't be wiped out in one stroke.

Mariella wasn't surprised, but she still let out a quiet breath.

This was the outcome she'd wanted.

To keep Celestine Ridge from capsizing, it needed the Hancocks at the helm.

"I thought the one staying would be your grandfather," Mariella said it quietly.

"He wanted to send me to the shelter. I refused. I'm done hiding behind my elders. It's time I carried this." Kieran's voice was steady.

"Good. You're worthy of the Hancock name." Mariella didn't compliment people often. This one she meant.

...

The Hancocks' helicopters, hauling supplies out, sent a wave of panic through the Celestine Ridge homeowners.

"Are the Hancocks leaving? Mr. Wallace, please say something! Don't abandon us!"

"Harvey already seized our supply lines. What are we supposed to do? Mr. Wallace, speak up!"

The one who stepped up wasn't Wallace. It was Kieran.

"Everyone, stay calm. We're not leaving. We're moving some supplies to the government shelter as a backup. If any of you want to store supplies there too, or send family members, reach out to me. I'll post the quota details and costs in the group chat."

The homeowners understood. The Hancocks were spreading their risk.

Made sense. A family that big needed more than one safe house.

The government shelter was more secure, but getting in wasn't easy. Whether it was people or supplies, every slot came at a steep price.

Celestine Ridge had always followed the Hancocks' lead. Seeing them make moves toward the government shelter, the homeowners gritted their teeth and followed.

They flooded Kieran's inbox, asking how much it would cost.

Kieran didn't hold back—the money wasn't going to the Hancocks anyway. "Each person slot costs a thousand pounds of food. Or the equivalent in fresh meat, canned meat, canned fish, or processed food.

"Equivalent value in watercraft or weapons also works. One small helicopter buys five slots. A mid-size helicopter buys ten. A yacht buys 15.

"If you're only storing supplies without sending people, storage fees are one-to-one by weight. Storage period is six months."

The homeowners were floored.

Even by Celestine Ridge's standards, that kind of money hurt.

Only the Hancocks, with their bottomless pockets, could shrug it off.

Kieran followed up with reassurance. "Don't panic. Giving up our homes is a last resort. Home is home, no matter how humble. We fight to hold the line at Celestine Ridge."