The World Ends In 27 Days

Jingwei had planned extractions from buildings surrounded by armed men.

He had moved politicians through riots, executives across contested borders and children away from kidnappers who knew every vehicle owned by their families.

If he was given enough information, he could calculate the safest route, assign personnel and account for whatever might go wrong.

His father’s request should have become another operation, something easy to occupy a few hours of his time before it was quickly resolved.

Instead, every possible route ended before any mode of transportation could even reach Rong headquarters.

"The roads aren’t passable," Jingwei answered after a few minutes with a long sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out a way to say it in a way that his father would understand. "No one is coming to retrieve you this morning."

Rong Jianfeng’s expression didn’t change immediately.

He remained behind his desk, surrounded by active corporate screens and every symbol of authority he had accumulated over four decades.

The headquarters still had power. His phone still connected him to ministers, executives and bank directors. Nothing visible had disappeared except his son’s willingness to obey.

"Our vehicles were modified for emergencies," he reminded Jingwei like he was still speaking to the child and not the man he had become. "If the main roads are damaged, all you need to do is use another route."

Jingwei opened Yunzhou’s transportation map beside the video feed and made sure that his father could see it, too.

The northern routes were blocked by civilian traffic.

Thousands of people had attempted to leave after the first emergency alert, only to abandon their vehicles when engines overheated or tires began sinking into softened asphalt.

The western district had lost power during the night, disabling traffic controls and trapping vehicles inside several underground passages.

To make matters worse, the uncontrollable forest fires continued advancing across the southern approach.

He enlarged the eastern route before his father could suggest it, because he knew exactly what that man would say.

Instead of seeing an alternate route, a fuel tanker had overturned near the river crossing, and emergency services had closed both directions.

"There is no route," Jingwei explained again, patiently. "The SUVs might cross individual damaged sections, but they cannot reach headquarters without becoming trapped. If I send them, we lose the vehicles and whoever is inside them."

His father studied the map as though patience might reveal an opening Jingwei had intentionally concealed. When none appeared, his gaze moved toward Zeyu.

"Your company manufactures emergency vehicles," he announced like he had every right to the resources available to the other families.

Zeyu remained seated at the kitchen island. The cold coffee had been removed, but he hadn’t replaced it. "We manufacture vehicles, Uncle Rong. We don’t manufacture roads," came his simple reply.

And he wasn’t wrong.

"What about the amphibious unit I’ve been hearing about?" countered Rong Jianfeng.

"It isn’t finished, and the river crossing isn’t the only obstruction."

Zeyu’s answer was calm, but the humor that normally softened his refusals never appeared.

His own family had escaped the worst of the Heat. They were living in air-conditioned luxury beyond the country while he remained in Xiling, watching other families discover that money could no longer guarantee the same outcome.

Rong Jianfeng turned back to his son. "Then send a helicopter," he snapped, clearly loosing patience. Not like he had any of it to begin with.

"The city grounded civilian aircraft overnight," replied Jingwei.

"Restrictions can be waived."

"The restriction isn’t the problem," Jingwei continued as he expanded the aviation warning flashing on his computer screen.

It had spelled out in black and white that the excessive temperature reduced lift, endangered engines and made landing surfaces unsafe.

"Any pilot willing to accept your money would be risking the aircraft before reaching headquarters. There is nowhere secure for it to land, and everyone nearby would see it," he pointed out.

His father’s hand tightened against the desk.

For the first time, the office behind him looked less like the center of an empire and more like a room he could no longer leave.

Su Lihua returned to the camera after helping move the elderly patient. Damp strands of hair clung to her face, and the sleeve of her blouse was dark from the wet cloths she had been carrying.

"Jingwei, we don’t need to bring everyone," she pleaded. "If there isn’t room in the vehicles, take immediate family first. The company can arrange something for the employees once the roads reopen."

But Jingwei had anticipated that compromise as well. "Who counts as immediate family?" he asked, his face expressionless.

His mother looked toward Rong Jianfeng rather than answering. The brief movement exposed the problem neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

His father began with Su Lihua and Xinyi, then added his brother, sister-in-law, their children and the elderly aunt Qinghe was treating.

Two more senior relatives became necessary because of their health, and of course, their spouses couldn’t be abandoned. One had a child trapped with him. It would be too cruel to take one and not the other.

The list reached 18 before Rong Jianfeng stopped naming people long enough to take a breath.

But Jingwei had already watched this happen the first time around. Within minutes, 18 would become 25, and by the time the vehicles arrived, it would be 87.

After all, the remaining relatives would demand the same protection as the original 18. Then the employees would see the family preparing to leave and understand that the people who owned the building no longer believed it was safe so they would insist on going with the others, probably to the point of violence.

With all that, security would collapse before the convoy could even reach the entrance.

"You and I both know that you cannot extract only the people on that list," Jingwei sighed, closing his eyes for a second. "Everyone else will know they’re being abandoned. Some will attempt to force their way into the vehicles, and others will follow you."

"Your men can control the employees," countered his father, sounding a lot more like a child than Jingwei wanted to admit to.

The man on the computer across from him had never hesitated to make the hard decisions. But now that it involved him and his family, it was a completely different story.

It was clear to Jingwei that his father was no longer considering the bigger picture.

"They can’t control 70 frightened people without injuring them," replied Jingwei.

"Then don’t bring us here," Xinyi intervened. She had remained near the window, but now moved behind her father’s desk. "Take us to one of the other safe houses. I know you. You wouldn’t have prepared just one. Didn’t you prepared nine of them? I remember seeing the list of properties on your desk."