Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

That was until these men burst through the door in the dark of the night. Larry looks at the one to his left. He’s a big guy but not bigger than his David. He studies him for a moment and although he finds it hard to focus while being dragged along, his feet barely touching the floor, he thinks he can just about spot a bruise forming under his black glasses. He has never had to hit anyone before and he knows David would be impressed that he managed to do some actual damage to such a burly man.

He smiles but doesn’t get long to enjoy the moment before everything changes again. As this small group turn yet another corner he sees two big doors opening ahead of him and realises this is where they are heading. The group speed up, as if they are in a race, all of them desperate to get across the finish line before it’s too late. Larry wants to ask what the rush is but since he already knows who they are, and where they are taking him, he sees little point in asking anything else.

‘Rear flank collapse back and prepare to defend,’ the man in charge shouts.

Larry senses the men who were just behind him now disappear, and soon he hears gun fire echoing through the tunnel behind him.

He looks ahead again, at the doors and what lies beyond them. He suddenly sees soldiers spilling out of the widening metal crack, some of them running and others kneeling down behind makeshift barricades and large machine guns. It looks like something from a war film, and not what you would expect to find beneath a nondescript warehouse on the outskirts of Washington DC.

The leader of his small group is shouting more orders to his fellow agents. His instructions are still precise and sparing with details, but now there is an urgency which Larry cannot understand the reason for. ‘Protocol red: we have an immediate breach,’ he shouts into his mouthpiece. He then stops and turns around, the machine gun that was previously draped around his neck now held up high. Larry immediately thinks he’s going to shoot him, although he does wonder what the point of bringing him here just to kill him would have been – he could have done that at home. And besides, who would want to kill Larry? Although, for that matter, who would want to save him at the collapse of the modern world?

‘Get him inside and seal those doors!’ the agent shouts, as the men who have hold of Larry keep pushing forward, their fast steps turning into bold strides. They are now practically carrying him towards the entrance, which must lead to this bunker he heard about.

He tries to turn, desperate to see what’s happening, but he has to be careful not to lose his glasses. He feels them slipping, a thick layer of sweat almost lubricating their path off his nose and onto the floor. He doubts that any of these busy men would be kind enough to pick them up, not with everything else that appears to be going on. He watches as half of this party of suits collapse their formation backwards and focus on whatever is behind them. They are quickly joined by some of the soldiers, and together they form some sort of defensive line that he can only just make out by stretching his neck until it hurts.

‘Get him inside now!’ the lead agent shouts. Until this moment Larry saw him as an enemy, a brutal kidnapper who just happened to look good in a tight-fitting black suit, but now he feels guilty for whatever is happening, and whatever they are going to face. He hears a scream, which doesn’t sound like something that could have come from the mouth of a man. It’s a primal sound and he doesn’t need to think about it too much because he knows what it is; he has heard it before and sat through enough briefings to know what is coming.

Then he hears it again, just after the sound of tearing metal. He thinks he can still hear it but against the deafening sound of gunfire he can’t be sure. The bullets don’t stop as more men are thrown against the beast. The soldiers in front of him are firing at whatever is behind him, and he wonders if those brave, and probably very nice, young men in suits are still alive. The doors are closing now, even though Larry still isn’t inside, which forces the two who have hold of him to make one final push.

‘It’s going to jump!’ someone shouts.

They reach the doors and the invisible barrier of air that hopefully signals some sort of safety. The two men who have hold of Larry throw him through the threshold, then turn and point their guns upwards. Larry falls to the floor, but the men on the other side get to him within moments and pick him up, pulling him backwards. He manages to turn and adjust his glasses, catching a glimpse back out there moments before the doors join together. He sees the creature land; its eyes are on him as blood drips from its long fangs. He also makes out what is happening in the distance, sees the ripped suits and mangled bodies spread across the floor. It’s a battleground now, and those final few still standing are trying their best to fend this thing off. He sees black-eye take his turn first, and where he defeated Larry with only an unlucky bruise, he fails to win against this thing three times his size, as it tears through him like a knife through butter.

As the two doors finally meet and the screams of those remaining men are drowned out, he listens to the mechanical noises surging through the middle of its thick metal. He realises he is breathing very fast as he bends down and puts his hands on his knees. He thinks of those men who have just lost their lives for nothing; have just left this world in the most brutal way possible. He knows they are far from the first to die like this, but their deaths are still senseless, and he figures they probably knew that too. He lets out a cry of his own when he realises what a sacrifice they have made; he knows that they died for him.

‘Electrify it!’ someone shouts.

He hears a buzz behind him, realising that something is happening inside the big door, and then he turns to see about 50 men, mostly soldiers, standing there. Some are checking their weapons, while others are keeping them pointed firmly at the door. When he hears banging on the other side he steps backwards, into the arms of a young man in combat gear. The soldier pushes him away, gently, but hard enough to show that he’s not as nice as these previous men were. Larry looks around and suddenly feels alone, seeing all of these hardened soldiers staring at him, and only him.

Someone finally steps out of the crowd. It’s another man in a black suit, with two others following him. Their once perfectly tailored, iconic outfits now look dusty and worn, their shirts stained, but still they come to work, still they do their duty. When this man eventually makes it to Larry he gestures to him to move away from the doors, which are somehow keeping out the raging monster. He looks Larry up and down, like he’s sizing him up for something, and then lets out a long sigh. ‘Mr President, welcome to the final bunker.’

‘Come this way, Mr President,’ this new agent says, leading him towards a smaller door at the end of the large room.

Larry follows obediently. The other two men have taken up positions either side of him, each of them just half a step away. He looks around and realises that this place is big enough to be an aircraft hangar. He sees a separate door open at the other side of the structure and notices three large tanks coming through it. They comfort him, giving him some sort of hope that the American military machine can still be victorious against such a relentless foe.

‘I’m Agent Flinch, and the men behind you are Agent Reynolds and Agent Dash,’ the man in front says, still charging forward, utterly purposeful.

He looks at both of them and then forwards again, his eyes settling on the back of the agent. He wants to ask who is who again but he doubts he will remember, and besides, he has slightly bigger things on his mind. ‘Agent, ummm…’