Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son

The truck slammed sideways with a metallic scream, tires skidding, frame crunching as something massive rammed into them from the mist. The world jolted, turned, then dropped.

Zara didn’t think. She curled protectively around the small boy in her lap as everything tipped.

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"Hold on!" Miles yelled from the front.

The truck slammed to a stop, shuddering. A moment of silence followed—just long enough for breath to return—and then came the sound of a child crying.

"Aren!" Naomi unbuckled herself, scrambling back. "Lila? Talk to me!"

"I’m okay!" Lila’s voice cracked from the far bench, clutching the seat hard.

But Aren sat crumpled in the corner, clutching his arm, sobbing.

Zara twisted around and saw Aren slumped beside his sister, cradling his arm—twisted at a sickening angle.

Naomi slid across the floor to him, heart in her throat. "No, no, no—baby, it’s okay—Mommy’s here. Just breathe, okay? I’ve got you."

From the other side of the truck, she heard Sam calling. "Ima—Miles—help—he’s under—!"

"I got him," Miles grunted, hauling himself toward the crushed bench where Richard’s legs were pinned. "He’s breathing—he’s still out but he’s breathing!"