"If we thought everything was going to hell before, we were kidding ourselves. Sigh, FUCK! That crazy bastard publicly executed our leader on live television." Crunching my beer can out of anger and shooting up a fountain of liquid, I brought it up and began chugging.
"If I remember correctly, now that the president is dead, the VP will step in, but odds are he will be taken out next. It wouldn't surprise me if that psycho has the entire chain of command stacked up for execution." Mirroring my actions of gulping down our drinks, Brance finished first and burped before continuing my thought aloud.
"For crying out loud, he KIDNAPPED THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. That man is the most protected person in the world, and they were able to kidnap him; the level of planning and execution shouldn't be possible, yet he fucking did it seemingly with ease." I complained.
Soon enough, the only sound which could be heard in the kitchen was us cracking another beer and gulping it down.
After I finished my Third beer and Renton finished his second, we went back into the living room, and to our surprise, Carleigh was cleaning up the mess I had made when I shattered the table.
Feeling ashamed that she was cleaning up after me, I tried to say sorry but was instantly silenced by the older lady who had filled in the role of a second mother for Renton and me.
She made it clear at that moment that I didn't have to apologize; the woman understood and just looked at me with puffy red eyes and smiled.
"We all know you and Renton are going through a lot right now, so it's understandable, boys. Just know we are all here for you," Carleigh was so genuine in her statement that it pulled at my heartstrings for a second, but I pushed it down to not show any weakness and thanked her.
Renton just smiled, unable to respond to her kindness. He wasn't as used to Carleigh as I was, so having her speak like that made him uncomfortable.
The four of us sat in silence while Carleigh finished cleaning up, that is, until we heard a car pull up outside.
"What the Hell Happened here?" A gruff yet tired voice stated loud enough for us to hear from inside the apartment.
Renton and I knew that voice and could recognize it anywhere; it was our Dad.
"DEAN, RENTON, ARE YOU IN THERE?" He yelled as he audibly pulled his service weapon out of his holster with a loud click so we could hear it inside.
Renton was the first to move, and before I could make my way to follow, he had already ripped the mattress covering the front window out of the way so he could look outside at our Dad.
"Yeah, we are; I do wanna warn you, though, don't freak out when you see the apartment." Renton's shouted back, with excitement palpable in his voice.
Through the newly opened window, I heard the distinct click of my Dad holstering his service pistol before it was washed away with an annoyed scoff.
Soon enough, a clamor was made as Renton moved to the side and helped our Dad come in through the window instead of the door since no one wanted to tear down and rebuild the largest of our barricades.
Upon entering our home, his reaction wasn't as exaggerated as I'd expected.
Contrary to the whirlwind of anger he had been known to generate when seeing a messy house, my Dad stopped just inside the window and looked around, his face contorted as if saying this wasn't as bad as I thought.
Instead of the angry ranting I had been accustomed to my entire life, he was utterly silent. Examining him from my spot on the floor in the living room corner, where I had ended up after allowing Brance to take charge, I observed a calm demeanor instead of anger and hostility.
Soon as he was finished tallying the damage to our Apartment, my Dad turned his attention toward me, and at a glance, it was easy to tell how exhausted he was.
It didn't take a genius to notice it had been an equally rough night for our Dad as it had been for us.
From the Little nicks and scratches covering his face to a large bandage covering most of his right arm, all of his injuries were visible and dealt with through basic first aid.
That aside, his left eye sported a massive shiner *black-eye* the likes I had only seen in MMA fighters or Professional Boxers.
Wanting to lighten up the somber mood that had descended with my father's haggard appearance, I said the first thing that came to mind.
"Long night, Pops?" unable to hide the sarcasm dripping off my words, I shot him a shameless smirk.
"You could say that, how bout you? Judging by the state of this place, it seems y'all had an eventful evening?" Returning my smirk with one of his own, I chuckled nervously.
To my chagrin, my Dad didn't miss a beat; and replied with the same sarcastic humor I was emitting.
"Oh, OH, MY TURN! I learned Carleigh likes to shoot guns." This time, it was Renton who chimed in, acting bubbly as it was the surefire way to break the mood.
And it worked; every one of us burst out laughing, with Chase even adding, "Maybe a little too much," before mimicking how his mom transformed into an action movie actor.
After we all settled down and cleaned the place a little, under my Dad's watchful eye, our little group gathered again in the living room, where he filled us in on his night.
Once finished with his harrowing tale, which sounded like the plot of a B-grade cheesy movie, he moved on to why he had come home early.
"When the last footage came on the airwaves, the execution, the riot dispersed quickly, and I didn't hesitate to rush home. I have no idea what's gonna happen when that clock hits zero, but I knew my place was here, in my home, when shit hits the fan, just in case."
"After all, who knows what kind of trouble you two knuckleheads would get into without my steady hand keeping you in check." With a snort, he looked to Carleigh, whose head bobbed up and down, confirming that Renton and I had become cowboys on a moment's notice.
"Dawww, you do love us, well, that our you think we will go batshit crazy without you around." putting on my puppy eyes and looking directly at him, I even added an eye flutter into the mix, making my Dad call me a few unsavory words.
---
For the next few hours, I scrolled through various news sites online and social media to find out what was happening in the world while constantly checking the countdown clock.
During that time, Dad and Carleigh had a brief chat before she fixed him something to eat, and he fell asleep on the couch; it was clear he needed it because, within a couple of seconds of his head hitting the pillow, he was snoring like a bear.
As time steadily ticked away, everyone got more nervous, myself included; however, that changed once my Dad finished what he called his "power nap" and forced us to complete busy work, IE, cleaning guns, sweeping broken glass, hell, if the world wasn't ending he probably would have made Renton and I take out the trash too.
Unfortunately, our momentary peace was shattered, and it all changed as we were all thrown for a loop when the clock hit thirty minutes.
Instead of kicking over to 29:59 as expected, it stopped at 30:00, and a familiar fanfare played, indicating it was time for that lunatic Niklaus to address us again.
Surprisingly, and much to our horror, dozens of small windows appeared simultaneously instead of seeing his smug face appear on Screen, each with a terrifying sight.
In each image was a single Ballistics Missile that had words written on the nose cone of each one.
"Oh…shit…!" Renton spoke first, as everyone but Carleigh reacted differently in shock.
Chase began mumbling incoherently, Tristian started doing his best to keep his mom from hyperventilating, and after saying his part, Renton furiously snatched my laptop and opened as many different live streams as he could find.
Ultimately, only Dad and I stayed quiet as I crawled closer to the TV and could make out the words on each missile.
As I read through the small words, my eyes widened, and I snapped my head away to look at my Dad, who wore a stern expression.
Written on the white nosecones of each missile were the names of Major American Cities all over the country.
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