Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 117:

Chapter 117: 117:

The military station was buzzing with activity, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air. Winter stepped inside, his boots barely making a sound on the cold concrete floor. Soldiers were already gathered in the dimly lit war room, their shadows cast long against the walls as they stood around a large table cluttered with maps, notes, and hastily scrawled tactical plans. Overhead, the flickering lights did little to dispel the unease hanging over the room.

Evelyn stood at the head of the table, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled soldiers. Beside her, Bale had his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The air smelled faintly of sweat and gun oil, a familiar mix, yet something about tonight felt... wrong.

Winter took his place at the back, near the edge of the group, his eyes instinctively moving over the faces around him. He wasn’t the only one feeling it. The unease sat heavy in the room, pressing against his skin like an unseen force.

"Listen up," Evelyn’s voice cut through the murmurs, pulling everyone to attention. "Patrol Squad Six went dark forty minutes ago. We lost all contact after they entered the mist. Our last transmission showed... anomalies." She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. Everyone here had either seen the footage or heard whispers of it.

Bale leaned forward, bracing his hands against the table. "Your objective is simple: Find any survivors and retrieve them. If the situation is compromised beyond control, you abort. Bring back intel, not bodies. Understood?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the soldiers, though it was laced with hesitation.

Winter’s gaze moved through the room again, noting the stiff shoulders, the way some of the men clenched their fists or shifted their weight from foot to foot. This wasn’t just another retrieval mission. No one believed it would be that simple.

Then, his eyes landed on Blake.

The younger soldier stood stiffly on the opposite side of the room, his jaw tight, eyes trained forward like he was trying not to look anywhere else. But the moment their gazes met, Winter caught it—that flicker of surprise, a split second of something close to fear, before Blake quickly looked away.

Winter sighed internally. He couldn’t blame him. Their last interaction had ended with Blake barely able to stand, the unfortunate victim of Winter’s foul temper. He’d have to apologize for that later—if they got out of this.

A familiar presence entered the room, and Winter glanced toward the doorway just as Richard stepped in. He caught Winter’s eye and gave a small nod, his expression unreadable but steady. Winter returned it. At least there was someone here he trusted.

Evelyn’s voice pulled them back to the present. "You’ll be outfitted with full-body protection. You know the drill. No exposed skin. The mist interacts with the body—we don’t know how or why, but we’re not taking chances. You’ll also be equipped with specialized oxygen masks. If you feel anything—dizziness, disorientation, confusion—you report it immediately. No one tries to be a hero."

A few of the soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.

Bale exhaled sharply. "Gear up. We leave in ten."

The room broke into motion, soldiers moving toward the equipment racks, murmuring amongst themselves as they secured their gear. Winter pulled on the heavy, reinforced suit, the fabric thick but flexible, designed to keep the mist from seeping through. The oxygen mask was cold against his face as he adjusted the straps.

The quiet dread settled in deeper.

This mission wasn’t going to go as planned.

They all knew it.

The steady sound of buckles fastening and equipment being secured filled the air as soldiers prepared for departure. Winter had just adjusted the final strap on his mask when Richard appeared beside him, his expression grim but composed.

"So," Richard said, voice low enough that only Winter could hear. "What do you make of all this?"

Winter didn’t answer right away. He adjusted the grip on his rifle, testing the weight of it in his hands. What did he think? That this was a mistake? That things werent adding up and he felt like they were hiding something from them.

Instead, he exhaled and said, "Feels rushed. Patrol Squad Six was out for barely an hour before they went dark. We have no idea what happened, and we’re already being sent in." His eyes flicked over the room, watching the other soldiers prepare. "It’s like sending a second fly into the web right after the first one gets caught."Richard let out a quiet grunt of agreement. "I don’t like it either."

Winter didn’t say anything else. His mind drifted back to Zara and the words she had spoken to him about.

On the thing she had seen.

"It wasn’t human. And it wasn’t one of them. It got in."

He couldn’t help but wonder if they were connected somehow. This disappearance and the vision.

He wanted to tell Richard. He should have told Richard. But he didn’t. The fewer people involved, the fewer problems they could drag others into. Instead, his gaze moved toward Evelyn and Bale, both still stationed near the war table, going over last-minute details.

They were good at their jobs.

Everything they did was for the survival of the base. But could he trust them with something like this? Would they even believe him?

They’d probably lock Zara up for good if they knew what she could do.

"Alright, move out!" Bale’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "We leave now."Winter clenched his jaw, letting the thoughts slip away. He pulled his rifle up, double-checking the magazine before slamming it into place. A quick check of his knife—secure at his side. His mask—tightly fitted.

No more delays.

He joined the others at the door, falling into step beside Richard. The heavy boots of the soldiers echoed as they moved through the corridor leading to the garage. There, several armoured vehicles were already waiting, their engines humming like restless beasts.

Climbing into the nearest one, Winter slid into his seat, feeling the cold press of metal beneath his gloved hands. Around him, the other soldiers did the same, silent but tense. The air inside was thick with unspoken fears and reluctant resolve.

They waited.

Outside, the reinforced gates loomed ahead, the last barrier between them and the mist-covered wasteland beyond.

Winter exhaled through his nose, thinking bitterly, Less than a month here, and I’ve already been outside the walls twice. Fantastic.As the gates groaned open, his grip on his rifle tightened.

His thoughts flickered to Zara. To Leo.

Nothing better happen while I’m gone.

*****

Zara lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her mind a tangled mess of thoughts.

Beside her, Leo was sprawled on his stomach, mumbling to himself as his small fingers clutched his action figures as he played out whatever adventure his mind had created. She could hear the tiny voices he made for them, the soft clash of plastic as he made them fight, oblivious to the storm in her thoughts.

The lab.

It had been on her mind for days. Weeks. Every time she thought of it, her fingers itched. She had to get inside. She had to see what they were hiding.

Sam could help. He had access, or at least knew enough to get her close. And then there were the people leaving notes—the ones slipped under their door in the dead of night. She still hadn’t figured out who they were or what they wanted Someone else wanted her to know the truth. Should she go to them?

Winter had said to wait. To watch.But what if waiting only made things worse? If she stayed cooped up in this room any longer, she’d lose her mind.

Zara bit her lip, frustration curling hot in her chest. She had to—A sudden splash of cold water hit her face.

She gasped, jerking upright as Leo let out a high-pitched squeal beside her. Her entire front was soaked, water dripping from her chin onto the already damp sheets.

Spluttering, she turned, eyes wide, and—Leo stood there, drenched, his curls plastered to his forehead. In his tiny arms, he clutched a large, nearly empty water jug—one of the ones from their original home. One of the ones that had gone missing.

Her stomach twisted. He had put it in his space.

Why had he brought it out now?

Her jaw tightened. "Leo."The three-year-old pouted, his small hands wrapped protectively around the jug, which was almost bigger than him. His lower lip trembled slightly, big brown eyes flickering between her and the mess he’d made.

Zara pushed wet strands of hair out of her face, sighing. "Where did you get that?" She reached out and gently pried the heavy jug from his grasp. It was nearly weightless now, most of its contents spilt across the bed.

Leo tweedled his fingers. "I was thirsty," he admitted, voice tiny. "I didn’t wanna wake you up."Zara’s chest tightened.

Oh.

He thought he’d done something wrong.

She set the jug aside and pulled him into her lap, ignoring the way his wet clothes made her even colder. "Hey, baby, I’m not mad," she murmured, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You always tell me when you want something, okay? You don’t have to do things by yourself."

Leo sniffled, but after a moment, he nodded against her shoulder.

She smiled softly before ruffling his wet curls. "Come on, let’s get you dried off before you catch a cold."

Lifting him into her arms, she carried him across the room and grabbed a towel, rubbing his small frame dry before changing him into warm, dry clothes. Once she had swapped her own soaked shirt for something fresh, she pulled the wet sheets off the bed and tossed them into the corner.

Instead of returning to bed, she sat on the floor, pulling Leo into her lap.

"Hey," she murmured, tucking a curl behind his ear. "Tell me about your space. What’s it like now?"

Leo brightened at the question, his little legs kicking excitedly. "It’s bigger now! And brighter! It doesn’t feel small anymore." He paused, tilting his head in thought. "But the strange door is still there. It’s too high for me to open."

Zara stiffened.

"The strange door."

Her fingers unconsciously tightened around Leo’s small waist. He had mentioned a door before, right?

She felt horrible for not paying attention to his space, especially when it was such an important element to their survival.