Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 132

Chapter 132: 132

The growl rumbled through the thick concrete walls, vibrating in Zara’s chest like a living, breathing thing. It was deep and guttural, almost too big to belong to any of the creatures they had encountered before.

A man near the back let out a strangled, "Oh, God," as the dragging sound came again, slower this time, like claws raking against steel.

"Stay quiet," one of the soldiers ordered, his grip tightening on his rifle.

"We need to barricade it!" someone whispered harshly.

"There’s nothing to barricade it with!" another voice snapped.

A woman whimpered, clutching her child tighter. Someone else whispered a frantic prayer under their breath.

Zara’s pulse pounded against her skull. Why couldn’t they catch a fucking break and just breathe for a few seconds? Why did shit have to keep happening?

The soldiers were already moving—tightening their grips on their weapons, shifting into defensive positions near the only entrance.

The safe room wasn’t safe anymore.

"Positions," Harlow ordered the soldiers, voice low and steady, but even he couldn’t hide the tension coiling in his stance. Guns were raised. A few of the civilians grabbed whatever they could—a broken chair leg, a discarded pipe—useless weapons against what was outside, but it was better than nothing.

The door was heavy, reinforced steel, but it wouldn’t hold forever if something that large decided to break through.

Another bang. Closer this time.

A woman near the front started to sob. "I can’t—I can’t do this, I—"

A soldier hissed, "Shut her up!"

Winter struggled to sit up again. Zara instinctively reached out to stop him, but he grabbed her wrist first, his fingers cold and trembling. His breathing was unsteady, but his eyes were sharp. "That’s... not one of them," he murmured.

Zara frowned, her heart hammering. "Then what the hell is it?"

One of the soldiers turned toward them, voice tight. "Doesn’t matter. If that door goes, we’re all screwed."

"Everyone needs to breathe," he rasped. "Panicking won’t help."

Another thump. Louder.

The door shuddered.

A child cried out. Someone in the back let out a sob.

Zara’s mind raced. Think. Think. Think.

Then—

A new sound.

Another growl, but this time—something else. A noise layered beneath it. Not just claws against metal, not just inhuman hunger—something mechanical.

A distant whine.

At first, it was distant, a barely noticeable hiss beneath the growling. But it grew louder, sharper, like a rush of air—no, like fire.

The creatures outside howled, a horrible, choked sound of rage and pain.

A screech, then a sudden, sharp whoosh—

A deep, unnatural roar filled the air, the sound so loud and overwhelming that Zara flinched.

Then—gunfire.

Not just a few shots. A relentless, rapid spray of bullets.

Shouts. More flames. Another inhuman screech, but this one sounded different. Pained.

Zara’s breath hitched. She wasn’t the only one realizing it now—the murmurs in the room shifted from fear to confusion.

One of the soldiers cursed. "Flamethrowers," he whispered, like he could barely believe it.

Another crackle of gunfire. Another burst of flames.

Then—

Static.

A burst of noise from somewhere in the room, the crackling of a radio cutting through the heavy silence.

The soldier closest to the entrance reached for his radio, but the sound wasn’t coming from him.

Zara’s heart stopped.

Winter’s radio.

She moved before she could think, snatching it from his vest just as a garbled voice pushed through the static.

"—safe room occupied? Any survivors? Repeat, is anyone alive in there?"

Zara clicked the button so fast she nearly fumbled it. "Yes," she said, voice sharp, urgent. "Yes, we’re here. We’re inside the safe room."

The radio was silent for a second, then:

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Zara." Then she realised that probably didn’t mean anything to the soldier. "Uhm, a survivor in the base?"

"Zara, what’s your situation? How many with you?"

Zara took a steadying breath, glancing at the terrified, exhausted faces around her. "There are people here. Civilians, soldiers. We’re hurt, but we’re alive."

Another pause.

Then, the voice came back, calmer now. "Good. We’re clearing the last of the creatures in your section. Once it’s secure, we’ll get you out."

Zara’s chest tightened. Relief warred with disbelief. They weren’t abandoned. Help was here.

But—

"Who is ’we’?" she asked.

Before the voice could respond, movement beside her—

A soldier strode forward, plucking the radio from her hand without ceremony. She resisted the urge to glare at him when it forced winter to sit up slightly.

"We’re not taking orders from just anyone," the soldier snapped. "Identify yourself."

A beat of silence. Then—

"This is Captain Darnell. My team is running clean-up. What’s your rank?"

"Lieutenant Harlow," the soldier answered, glancing toward his men. "We thought the command was gone."

"Command is gone," Darnell said bluntly. "We’re all that’s left. What’s your status, Lieutenant?"

Harlow’s jaw tensed. "We’re holding, but not for much longer. The safe room’s intact, but morale’s shot. We need an exit plan."

"We’re securing the route now," Darnell said. "Sit tight."

The radio cut out.

A beat passed.

Then the room erupted.

People who had been silent moments ago were suddenly talking all at once—questions, demands, disbelief.

"What does that mean?"

"Are they really clearing a way out?"

"Can we trust them?"

One of the older men stood, his voice shaking. "You heard him, right? Command is gone. What if they just want to take whatever’s left for themselves?"

Zara wondered where all this pessimism came from. She turned to glare at the people asking stupid questions and sure enough, it was the same man from earlier.

"They didn’t have to radio us. If they wanted to leave us to die, they would have." She gritted out.

Harlow ignored the civilians’ murmuring, turning back to his soldiers. "Alright, listen up. If they’re securing the exit, we move when they give the all-clear."

Then he shot a cold glare at the men. "Until then, no one does anything stupid."

The men shrunk back but wisely kept quiet.

Everyone sat tensely in bated breaths as they stared intently at the door, the noises continuing for what felt like forever.

The tension in the room thickened with each passing second. No one dared to move, barely even breathing, as they listened to the chaos raging beyond the steel walls.

The gunfire was relentless, the bursts of flamethrowers scorching through whatever creatures lurked out there.

Every few moments, another inhuman scream tore through the air, followed by silence—eerie, suffocating silence that never lasted long enough before the next round of gunfire erupted.

Zara kept an eye on winter and the door. Winter’s eyes seemed to have slid shut at some point, but the tight grip he had on her hand told her that he was still awake, or hurting. She’d like to think he was awake over the alternative.

She glanced down at her baby and tried not to flinch. Leo had unconsciously pulled a stuffed toy out of his space, much to Zara’s dismay and was now hugging it tightly as he nodded off on her lap. A quick glance around showed no one had noticed but she couldn’t be too sure.

There were too many people around them.

A soldier near the entrance shifted, flexing his fingers around the grip of his rifle. "How much longer do you think they’ll be?" he muttered under his breath.

Harlow didn’t answer. His expression was unreadable, but the tightness in his shoulders gave him away. He didn’t know. That was the thing, none of them did.

Suddenly, a blast hit so powerful it rattled the walls. A wave of dust and debris shook loose from the ceiling. The room erupted in panicked gasps and cries.

Zara threw herself over Leo on instinct, shielding him as best as she could. Winter gritted his teeth, his body tensing beside her.

"What the hell was that?!" someone shrieked.

"I don’t know," a soldier snapped. "But that was close."

Zara lifted her head, heart hammering against her ribs. The gunfire had slowed. The screams—inhuman and twisted—were fading.

There was silence for a bit. Everyone held their breaths, waiting.

"Was it finally over?" Someone whiaoered.

Then they heard it.

Footsteps. Heavy, fast-moving. Boots slamming against concrete.

A group. No—several.

The soldiers inside the safe room immediately raised their weapons, aiming at the entrance.

"Get ready," Harlow ordered, voice low but firm.

"Everyone get your masks on!" another soldier ordered and everyone scrambled for their masks. The mist might still be in the base.

Zara made sure Leo’s and Winter’s were intact before putting hers back on, hands shaking slightly.

Please let this be the break they need.

The pounding grew louder. Someone barked an order from the other side of the steel door. Then—

A sharp, metallic clang.

A hiss of hydraulics.

The reinforced door groaned.

For a split second, no one moved. No one even breathed.

Then, with a heavy lurch, the door was unlocked and yanked open.

Blinding light flooded the room.

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