The Apocalypse is Now

Ch 2: The Nights are Darker

"What the hell was that?"

Wyatt's hushed voice gave Nick cause to sit up in the darkened room. It was past midnight, in the darkest hours of the night. Nick looked over to the couch where Mary was still resting, then rolled to see Caroline. "Was it this building?"

Caroline sat up carefully, her eyes locked on the door to the apartment. "I think so. I thought I felt it."

Pounding on wood shook the floor and Wyatt scrambled to his feet. "The fu-?"

Nick twisted under his blanket, crawling to Mary frantically. She was whining. "Mary, I'm here. Right here." He found her hand underneath the layers of jackets and cloth that bundled her. He could hear yelling of men in the hallway, his mind racing to the possibility of survivors coming back. Would they have made it back so late? Why would they have even bothered?

Chattering of metal rang in the kitchen as Wyatt flung a kitchen drawer open, shuffling through utensils and finally pulling out a short butcher's knife as the apartment door began to rumble violently.

Light burst into the room, along with a chorus of clicking and sharp shouts of men ordering the room to freeze. Caroline complied while Wyatt held out his knife straight in front of him, each hand trying to calm the other. Nick flung his blanket over Mary's face and thrust himself between her and the door.

Flashlights shone in their faces, each child being mentally assessed by the men in the doorway.

"We found some in here!" One man called. Another focused on Wyatt at the edge of the kitchen with the knife out in front of him. "Drop the weapon!" He shouted.

Nick squinted to see past the blinding beams, his heart racing as Wyatt was shouted at. What the flashlight was attached to wasn't a hand, but a rifle. "Wyatt," Nick's quavering voice warned. It painfully registered that all of these men had their flashlights strapped to guns, and seeing a handgun pointed towards him and Mary drove his voice louder. "Wyatt, put it down."

Wyatt's limbs seems locked and he stared at the intruders, his mind struggling to comprehend the orders he was being given. From a deep voice he heard "Drop your weapon!" over and over again, and a more familiar voice shouted for him to comply.

He was ready to listen, but his eyes recognized the outline of guns. "You first!" he yelled, shoving the knife up with a fear-driven resolve.

"Wyatt, just drop the knife!" Nick himself felt locked in front of the ragged couch. His eyes were ripped to the door as an even more expansive light took the stage. The flames of a lantern illuminated the room and the men at the door quieted. With the sudden hush, both Wyatt and Nick were on a renewed guard against this new player.

The lantern bearer had a pepper speckled beard and his eyes squinted with chicken feet at the corners. He looked over the room quietly until he finally saw Wyatt. His face stayed the same and his body was calm almost in disinterest. He looked to the man whose rifle was pointed at the boy, reaching over and quietly pressing on the rifle. The man reacted immediately and pulled up, his finger off the trigger and his gun's barrel rising to the ceiling. The lantern bearer then looked to Wyatt. "Put down the knife, son."

"Wyatt," Nick whispered in urgency, seeing that Wyatt's stubborn pride was keeping his arms locked.

Caroline saw this as well, and she finally moved slightly as her hands bundled her blanket up to her chest. "Wyatt, please."

The sound of her voice seemed to have struck Wyatt's petrified body, making him shudder as he realized what he was doing. He must've looked like a frightened animal, frozen in a defensive stance as terror overtook his mind. He took a step back into the fridge and the knife slipped from his hands, clattering to the tile.