Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!-Chapter 28: The Dangerous Plan

Everyone around me fell speechless at my words.

Alisha looked me for a long moment before speaking.

"The administration building isn’t just any ordinary structure," she said quietly. "It was designed with security in mind, even beyond what you’d normally expect from a school." She paused, glancing toward the window where we could see the building in question. "If there are infected inside, they could be anywhere – in the hallways, the offices, even the stairwells."

"What about the roof access?" Sydney asked, joining the conversation more directly. "The roofs of this building and the administration one are pretty close."

"There’s a maintenance door that leads to the roof," Alisha confirmed. "But getting there means going through at least part of the building’s interior. And once you’re inside..." She didn’t need to finish the sentence. We all understood the risks.

Elena, who had been listening from nearby, suddenly spoke up as shocked as the others. "T...this is completely insane," she said bluntly. "You’re talking about jumping between buildings, breaking into a potentially infected structure, and trying to operate complex communication equipment while surrounded by things that want to eat you alive..."

The gaze she gave me was quite meek and tinged with concern. It did surprise me a bit but it had rendered the others even more shocked.

What kind of woman were you in this school Elena?

Regardless, her words were harsh, but they weren’t wrong. When laid out like that, our plan did sound like something out of a suicide mission.

"Maybe it is insane," I admitted. "But what’s the alternative? We sit here and hope someone eventually finds us? Hope that our food and water hold out? Hope that this makeshift barricade keeps holding?" I gestured toward the library door, where we could still hear the occasional thump of infected bodies pressing against our defenses.

"At least here we’re relatively safe," someone from the Lexington group interjected.

"Safe is relative," I replied. "We’re trapped, cut off from the outside world, with limited supplies and no real plan beyond hiding and hoping. That’s not a long-term survival strategy – that’s just delaying the inevitable."

"N...Not inevitable! You are just insane!"

The words erupted from another guy, his voice cracking with the strain of maintaining hope in an increasingly hopeless situation. I watched him carefully, noting how his hands trembled as he clutched at the sleeve of his designer blazer.

Among all of us trapped here, he seemed to be unraveling the fastest, even more so than Rebecca’s shell-shocked classmate who sat huddled in the corner, staring blankly at nothing.

His eyes darted frantically between each of us, seeking some spark of agreement, some validation that his desperate optimism wasn’t misplaced.

"O...Our parents or anyone’s parent will come to pick us! I mean, we are their kids, right?" His voice pitched higher with each word. He forced what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, but it came across as manic, his lips stretched too wide across his teeth.

I could see the others shifting uncomfortably. Some avoided his gaze entirely, while others exchanged those meaningful glances that spoke volumes about their dwindling faith in rescue.

"But it’s going to be two days, Desmond." The response came from a woman wearing wire-rimmed glasses that had slipped slightly down her nose. She pushed them up then, her finger leaving a small smudge on the lens. I’d noticed her earlier, always positioning herself close to Elena and Alisha. They seemed to be friends.

"And what?!" Desmond’s composure finally cracked completely, his voice exploding through the library with enough force to make several people flinch. "Maybe your parents don’t give a shit about you, Daisy! But my father will save me definitely!"

I saw Daisy’s face crumple slightly, hurt flashing across her features before she quickly composed herself.

"Mind your tone, Desmond." Elena called out quite pissed off by Desmond’s outburst toward Daisy who had just said a remark.

Desmond immediately recoiled as if he’d been physically struck, stumbling backward until his shoulder blades hit the edge of a bookshelf. The color drained from his face as he realized he’d just insulted someone close to Elena it seems.

"I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—" He stammered, but Elena’s cold stare silenced him more effectively than any rebuke.

The library fell into an uncomfortable silence until...

"No one is going to save us."

The voice that broke the silence was completely unexpected—melodious and almost musical.

We all turned as one toward the far corner of the library, where the voice had originated. There, in what had probably been the librarian’s favorite reading nook, sat a figure I’d noticed earlier but hadn’t really paid attention to. She was settled comfortably in an oversized leather armchair that looked like it had been there since the school’s founding, one long leg crossed elegantly over the other.

A breathtaking Chinese beauty. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Her hair was so black it seemed to absorb the light around it, falling in perfect waves past her shoulders. When she looked up from the book in her lap, I found myself staring into eyes so dark they were almost black—deep enough that you could lose yourself in them if you weren’t careful. She was undeniably beautiful, with the kind of refined features that spoke of excellent genetics and probably extensive spa treatments, but there was something in her expression that made me feel weird.

That smile. It was small and knowing, curved at just the right angle to suggest she was privy to some cosmic joke that the rest of us weren’t in on. In any other situation, that smile might have been alluring. Here, surrounded by death and desperation, it was bit weird.

She wore the standard Lexington Charter uniform—a long navy skirt that she’d somehow managed to keep perfectly pressed, and a crisp white blouse that looked like it had just come from the dry cleaner. Even her school tie was knotted with mathematical precision. It was as if the apocalypse outside was merely an inconvenience to her daily routine.

"What do you mean no one is coming to save us, Mei?" Alisha’ turned her gaze toward her.

Mei—so that was her name—closed her book, making sure to place a silk bookmark between the pages before setting it aside on the small table next to her chair. The book, I noticed, was some thick philosophical tome that looked completely out of place given our circumstances.

"Didn’t you find it strange," she began, "how the day it had started, several of our dear classmates had been absent?"

The question hung in the air as people began looking at each other with growing realization. I could practically see the mental gears turning as they started to remember, started to put pieces together they hadn’t even realized were part of a puzzle.

But they couldn’t understand where she was going neither did I...

"I think simply," Mei continued, clearly pleased with the growing comprehension on their faces, "that this whole ordeal, the government or whoever occupies the higher echelons of power, were fully aware of what was coming and chose not to consider us worthy enough to preserve. This includes our parents, by the way. If they are alive—which I sincerely doubt—they must be dealing with their own rather desperate circumstances."

She delivered this devastating assessment with the same casual tone one might use to discuss the weather. Her fingers drummed lightly against the arm of her chair, perfectly manicured nails clicking in a rhythm that somehow made everything she said sound more ominous.

"What? Government? Have you gone completely mad?" Desmond’s laugh was brittle and forced, the sound of someone clinging to denial with both hands. But even as he laughed, I could see the doubt creeping into his eyes.

"Think whatever you can manage with that limited intellectual capacity of yours," Mei replied with devastating politeness, not even bothering to look directly at him. "But I don’t believe in coincidences. Even among us so-called elites, some have been saved—those considered elite among elites. Take Victoria Hanover-Beckett, for example."

At the mention of Victoria, several people shifted uncomfortably.

Who the heck is Victoria by the way?

"She was in our Advanced Placement History class, but she happens to be a distant cousin to British royalty. Naturally, she would be selected for preservation over all of us." Mei’s gaze swept across the group, lingering on specific faces as if she were mentally cataloging their relative worth. "A mere son of some automotive brand executive, or the offspring of a distinguished professor, or daughters of various corporate CEOs... none of that is quite prestigious enough for their consideration, I’m afraid."

The silence that followed was deafening. I watched as the implications of her words sank in, saw the moment when each person realized they were being specifically targeted by her assessment.

"W—What did you say?!" The explosion came from multiple directions at once, as those who recognized themselves in her descriptions reacted with predictable outrage.

Tobias stepped forward, his face flushed with anger and something that looked suspiciously like shame. "How dare you—"

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?" Mei asked with mock concern, producing a delicate folding fan from somewhere in her blazer and snapping it open with a flick of her wrist. The fan was beautiful—probably an antique, decorated. She began fanning herself languidly, as if she couldn’t bear the heat.

Regardless their anger was understandable.

What Mei was suggesting wasn’t just cruel—it was genuinely terrifying. If she was right, if we really had been abandoned because we weren’t considered valuable enough to save, then everything I thought I understood about the world had been wrong.

Were we really expendable? Had the timing of the virus outbreak, the way it seemed to spread with surgical precision, the complete communications blackout—had all of that been orchestrated?

I thought back to the news reports from before everything went to hell. They had seemed almost... casual about the whole thing. Reassuring, even. The anchors had maintained those practiced smiles while reporting on what should have been humanity’s greatest crisis. At the time, I’d attributed it to professional composure, but now...

"That’s bullshit." Tobias’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, low and dangerous. He was staring at Mei with the kind of cold fury I’d only seen in movies—the barely controlled rage of someone who’d been pushed too far.

Mei, however, seemed completely unimpressed by his intimidation tactics. If anything, her smile widened slightly, as if his anger only confirmed everything she’d been saying.

"You can cry and rage however you want, Tobias," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy, "but even your father—a senator of New York State, no less—apparently wasn’t deemed worthy enough to be included in whatever grand plan the truly powerful have set in motion."

Damn she wasn’t holding back her words.

I could see Tobias’s teeth clench, could practically hear his teeth grinding as he fought to maintain some semblance of composure. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and for a moment I thought he might actually charge at her.

Instead, he spun around, presenting his back to all of us with rigid dignity. "They will come," he said shortly.

"And if they don’t?" I found myself asking, the question slipping out before I could stop it. All eyes turned to me. "Are you going to hope forever and die of starvation in this library?"

The question was harsh, but someone needed to say it. I could see the fear flash across their faces as they were forced to confront the reality of our situation—really confront it, maybe for the first time since this nightmare began.

"At least," I continued, trying to soften my tone while still making my point, "if I managed to get that radio working, we might be able to contact someone—anyone. If they understood we’re alive and broadcasting from Lexington Charter, they might consider us worth saving after all."

It was a slim hope, but it was something. More than waiting around for rescue that might never come.

"And who the hell are you to speak to us like that?" Tobias whirled back around, his composure finally cracking completely. His face was flushed with anger and embarrassment, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled from running his hands through it.

Don’t take your anger on that woman on me now...

Before I could reply, Rebecca stepped forward probably trying to prevent me from saying something that would escalate the situation even further.

"Ryan is from Abraham Lincoln High School," she said, "We happened to encounter him during—"

"Abraham Lincoln High School?" Tobias cut her off mid-sentence. For a moment, he just stared at me in complete disbelief, as if Rebecca had just announced I was from Mars. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter—not the nervous, brittle laughter we’d been hearing from Desmond, but genuine, cruel amusement that echoed off the library walls.

"This must be some kind of elaborate joke," he gasped between fits of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. When he finally managed to compose himself enough to speak with quite disdain. "What? A guy this mentally impaired, from a fourth-rate public school, thinks he can come here and give us advice and strategic plans?"

"Hahahah, you absolutely nailed it, Tobias!"

The new voice exploded with laughter that was somehow even more grating than Tobias’s had been. I turned to see another young man who had been lounging in a leather chair near one of the study tables, his legs casually crossed and propped up on the polished wood surface. He had bright brown hair that looked like it had been professionally styled even in these circumstances, and despite wearing the Lexington Charter uniform, something about his bearing suggested he’d be more at home in a regular public school setting—though apparently his attitude was pure prep school arrogance.

He stood up. "I mean, seriously, why should any of us from Lexington Charter have to listen to some random nobody from one of those backwater public schools?"

"Cut it off, Scott." Alisha looked at him displeased. "We’re discussing something serious right now."

Scott—apparently that was his name—let out an exaggerated groan as he approached her. "Seriously?" He drew out the word mockingly. "Come on, Alisha. You’ve got to be kidding me. Why should I, a student from the most prestigious preparatory institution in the state, have to take orders or advice from some random guy from the educational equivalent of a garbage dump?"

"Then what exactly are you planning to do?" Alisha fired back, raising her chin defiantly and meeting his gaze without flinching.

Scott’s response was a smirk. "Simple. I’ll wait until tomorrow morning, and if no one shows up by then, I’m getting the hell out of here. With or without the rest of you."

"And how exactly do you plan to leave alone?" Alisha’s voice remained level, but I could see the flash of anger in her eyes. "Do you honestly think anyone here is eager to follow you outside with so many Infected wandering around? Or have you forgotten what it’s like out there?"

She gestured toward the barricaded windows, where we could occasionally hear the disturbing sounds of movement in the courtyard below—shuffling footsteps and low grunts.

"And let’s not forget," she continued, her voice gaining momentum as her composure began to crack, "it was your brilliant plan to lock and barricade the front doors of the building. How many of us died because of that decision?"

I could see several of the other shifting uncomfortably, their faces reflecting the memory of whatever had happened.

"Who cares about that?" Scott’s response was delivered with a casual shrug. "We prevented an entire herd from entering the building. That’s what matters."

"It was completely useless!" Alisha replied angrily. "They don’t know how to climb stairs properly—they can barely manage to crawl up if they catch sight of someone at the right angle. All you did was trap us in here while people died trying to get inside!"

She seemed quite pissed off.

Scott didn’t answer immediately, and in that silence, I finally understood why the front entrance had been so thoroughly blocked when I’d tried to enter the building. It hadn’t been a random defensive measure—it had been a calculated decision that had probably cost lives.

The silence stretched uncomfortably until Alisha spoke again. "I think Ryan’s plan is risky, yes, but he has a valid point. If we can manage to establish contact with anyone—military, emergency services, anyone with the resources to mount a rescue—we might actually have a chance of getting out of here alive."

Grateful that she was speaking on my behalf.

"And who exactly is going to follow this crazy guy, huh?" Scott laughed again, pointing at me with disdain. "Show of hands—who wants to risk their life following the public school reject on some insane mission?"

The silence that followed was deafening. I looked around the room, meeting the eyes of people I’d been trying to help, seeing the doubt and social conditioning warring with their survival instincts. Not a single hand moved until...

"I’ll go."

I spun around in shock to see Sydney raising her hand lazily behind me.