Nightmare Fuel #22: The Storm Chapter 2: The Ark
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Welcome to another edition of Nightmare Fuel, Creeps and Peepers. I'm Dan Cummins, and I will be sharing another original short story of the fictional horror variety. I highly recommend noise cancellation headphones for the best experience. Today's story is a continuation of the previous Nightmare Fuel, and this story will be continued for one additional week to start 2025. Thank you for all the feedback, encouraging me to continue building out this terrible new world. Hope you enjoy this new nightmare.

Time now for the tale of The Storm, Chapter 2, The Ark. Almost there. The sniper, who still hasn't introduced himself to Brent and his family, flatly and quietly states as they march down and around a bend along an unpaved driveway. They've been walking with the man who asked Brent's 17-year-old daughter, Rosie, if she was a virgin for about 20 or maybe even 30 minutes now. And the last five or so have been on this driveway.

Before that, they were traveling along what barely amounted to a deer trail. Brent was so grateful that Rosie had said yes that she was a virgin when this creep asked, even though he assumed she probably wasn't. I mean, she'd had several somewhat serious girlfriends, and Brent had frequently joked with her over the past year or so that she was a college frat boy trapped in a high school girl's body because of how much she loved to riz. She actually very likely had never had sex with a boy, though, not that Brent had ever asked.

So maybe she was a virgin, according to what he assumed was this psycho's outdated and narrow-minded thinking regarding what defined sex. He hopes that Rosie realizes that telling this guy that she's a lesbian, that she only is sexually attracted to other girls, would be a very, very bad idea.

The strange man who had first put their lives in danger and then saved their lives hadn't said much since he'd met them at the wreckage of their Range Rover after shooting the red eyes who were pursuing them. But based on what little he had said when he'd met them, that whole spiel about this plague is God's punishment for all of humanity's sins and we must populate New Eden and I have divine knowledge bullshit, Brent didn't get the feeling that he was too progressive or inclusive. Brent is tired.

He was tired before the wreck. He's exhausted now in every sense of the word. His arms are killing him, as are his son Cam's. His busted up ribs feel like they're on fire. They've been carrying his poor wife Lori for over a mile now. Thank God she's a small person.

Brent's worried about how much blood his wife has lost from the gash a little above and behind her right temple, just above her ear. He thinks she must have gotten it when her airbag deployed. He thought that curtain airbags were supposed to have deployed from the door as well, but if the rover had them, they didn't work like they were supposed to. Only the airbag and the dashboard inflated, and he guessed it helped knock the side of Lori's head up against the cab. Not like any of that matters now.

The days of filing insurance claims are likely over. What a strange thought. The days of taking their Range Rover into a shop for repairs or taking any vehicle into any shop may also be over. Brent had asked the sniper a few minutes into their walk if they could take a moment to wrap up Lori's wound, and he'd gotten the short answer he'd expected, no. He said in his cold, terse way, "'There's no time. More red eyes are almost certainly coming for us, and stopping would put everyone's lives at risk.'

He probably wasn't wrong, but Brent hated him for not giving him a few minutes to help his wife stay alive all the same. Lori, meanwhile, while she hadn't yet regained consciousness, was still moaning, which at least gave him some small comfort. It meant she was alive. She probably had some sort of brain injury he hoped wasn't too severe, but at least she was alive.

As they all continued rounding a big bend in the driveway, as Rosie stole a scared glance back at her father as she walked next to the unknown sniper up ahead of them, suddenly the Ark came into view. Holy fuck, Cam quietly mutters. Brent immediately whispers back, don't curse around this guy, ever. No blasphemy either. Right, sorry. Cam apologetically responds as he and his father stare ahead. Fortunately, Noah didn't hear them.

The Ark at first glance looks a lot like a small medium security prison. Past all the big pine trees surrounding it on each side of the dirt driveway, some new looking industrial strength chain link fencing. Nothing like the kind you'd ever see in a residential area. Real thick and maybe 8 to 12 feet high with a big roll of razor wire on top. Surrounds a large two-story cult compound looking lodge in the middle of what must be 5 to 10 acres. Looking to his left and right, Brampton's

Brent spots enclosed guard towers in each corner of the fenced-in area, with massive, mounted machine guns of some kind planted inside each. Absent are any guards at the moment, if any even exist. There are also a half-dozen or more cabins, sheds, and other buildings. One looks like a little chapel.

sprinkled around the property in addition to a big greenhouse, a bunch of fruit trees, a swing set and some other playground equipment, a large barn with what looks like a chicken coop attached and a roof covered and the solar panels that cover the main lodge as well, and several cows grazing on some grass in between all the buildings. If the man that lived there wasn't almost certainly a sexual predator and wasn't also 100% for sure a dangerous religious zealot and instead was some sort of benevolent host...

Brent would be grinning from ear to ear and probably crying tears of joy, trying to figure out how he was going to get to his mom and stepdad and bring them here from Whitebird. This was the safest place he'd seen so far when it came to where you'd want to ride out the storm. But instead, he was feeling anything but joy or relief. The sight of what clearly took a very determined and capable person a lot of time and money to construct left Brent feeling sick. This guy wasn't just a great shot.

He was a dedicated survivalist and prepper. Unlike Brent and his family, unlike 99.99% of the population, he was built for this new and terrifying world. He'd clearly been preparing for the apocalypse for a long, long time. And he prepared very well. And Brent worried that a guy like that was going to be nearly impossible to kill or escape from.

He and his family's odds of getting away from this compound alive and making it to Whitebird just got a whole lot smaller. Impressive, isn't it? The sniper's voice loudly booms as he turns, grinning proudly to face Brent and Cam. Off of Brent's surprised expression, he adds, still speaking loudly, Don't worry. There's no need to be quiet anymore. I refuse to live like a scared little field mouse in God's kingdom.

God didn't guide the construction of this Ark for his children to live in fear inside of it. Any red eyes who try and infect us here, and many have already tried, will face the Lord's final judgment. It's very impressive. Brent echoes, forcing a smile onto his face as he does so. Let's get inside and get your wife taken care of. The sniper now proclaims as he reaches a hand into his pocket and pushes a button. It opens the heavy-duty steel front gate.

Where the fuck did he get all this shit? Brent silently wonders. And who did he have build it for him? Most of what he and his family were looking at clearly did not come from Lowe's or Home Depot. Then as the gate opens, his stomach drops again.

Three teenage girls and a woman who looks like she's about he and Lori's age all walk out onto the patio of the second floor of the main lodge, wearing identical long plain dresses that remind Brent of what Amish or Mennonite women wear. They even have on those white bonnets. It's like the Handmaid's Tale, Cam whispers. Brent nods and shivers. Sure is.

He hopes the woman and those girls are the sniper man's wife and daughters. But based on how different the girls look from one another, and based on the creep who was leading him towards them, he highly doubts that's the case. Will Rosie soon be dressed up like that, standing next to them, he thinks? Then he tells himself that that will only happen over his dead body, and an intrusive thought he really doesn't care for follows. Going up against this guy will almost certainly lead directly to your dead body.

Brent helps carry his unconscious wife through the open front gate and into the compound. He notices security cameras pointed at the entrance as he does so. How the hell were they ever going to get out of this place? As the gate shuts and locks behind them, the sniper calls out to the woman. "Dina! We have guests. One of them, the woman being carried, has a head wound that she'll need dressed. She was in a car accident about a half an hour ago and hasn't regained consciousness since.

"'Would you like me to tend to her before or after I bring you your lunch, Noah?' the woman asks nervously, avoiding eye contact. "'Tend to her immediately,' Noah commands. "'And have my wives set the table for everyone but you and the woman.' "'Noah? Wives? Wives as in plural? Motherfucker,' Brent thinks. All his worst assumptions were correct. How the fuck were several run-ins with red-eyes not the strangest or scariest part of his day?'

And his day wasn't over. It was barely the afternoon. Brent thinks, worries. It might get stranger and scarier still as Rosie shoots him a very concerned, please help me dad, glance with fresh tears in her eyes. And she wasn't the only girl about her age looking concerned. Approaching the main lodge, Brent watches the girls turn and head inside the house and can't help but notice how scared they all looked. And did one of them have some bruising around her eye? Like she'd been hit?

I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Noah declares to Brent as he begins to walk up the steps to where the woman who will be helping Lori stands and waits. I'll answer most, if not all of them over dinner. You and your son will first follow Dina to the medical room, though. And once you've placed her where Dina wants her, you'll return to the dining room for lunch. What a glorious Thanksgiving this will be. Cam looks to his father, clearly wanting him to object. How the fuck does this asshole think they're going to be feeling festive while his stepmom might be dying alone down the hall?

But Brent knows better. It kills him to think that he'll have to leave Lori alone with a stranger when she's so badly hurt. But Noah didn't ask them if they wanted to join him for lunch. He told them. And for the moment, Brent knew he just needed to go along with whatever Noah instructed him and his family to do. He didn't want to find out, at least not yet, how this dude handled dissent. So instead of saying, I don't fucking think so. My kids and I are going to stay with my wife. And the second she's awake and able to travel, we're fucking out of here. He says...

"'Thank you. We greatly appreciate your hospitality during these trying times.' "'Trying times indeed!' Noah booms, grinning. "'But also wondrous times, times we must celebrate, for they are the very trials and tribulations that will lead us into a new and righteous age, where Christ the King will rule on earth as he does in heaven.' Brent cringes internally at the madness coming out of this man's mouth, forcing himself to say as piously as possible, "'Amen.'

He then stares at his son, non-verbally urging him to do the same. Amen, Cam quickly adds off of his father's glance. And then his sister Rosie, always so good at just reading the room, for better or for worse, says the same. What's your name, young lady? Noah finally asks Brent's daughter, speaking sweetly, which is somehow so much more upsetting than when he was barking at them. Rosie, she answers anxiously. Rosie. Rosie.

Noah repeats, seeming to really savor each syllable in a way that makes Brent's blood boil. I like that. I am a Rose of Sharon, a Lily of the Valleys. You'll sit at the table right next to me. We can get to know each other a bit while your mother is tended to. Rosie forces a smile and says, Of course. As Dina holds open the door for them all to enter, Brent and Cam follow, holding the still lightly moaning Lori.

Inside, there was a long rectangular table that appears to be made up of several large fold-out tables pushed together end-to-end with a large tablecloth covering all of them. The setup reminds Brent of what you might find in an old community church basement. The rest of the decor reminds him of a hunting lodge.

There are a couple of deer and elk heads mounted on the walls, some simple wood furniture, a great big American flag, a stone fireplace, some framed religious artwork, and what looks like various military commendations, recognitions, and awards. He can hear what sounds like pots, pans, and plates moving about in the kitchen nearby. He finds it unsettling that he does not hear any of the three girls getting their dinner prepared speaking. They are eerily silent.

Right this way, please. Dina requests formally as she begins leading Brent and Cam towards a hallway opposite the dining table. Brent shoots his daughter a look of, stay strong, it's going to be okay, as she looks terrified back at her father. He then turns his head, and he and his son follow Dina. Just before she enters the hallway, Noah shouts a warning at her. Be mindful of what you share with our guests, Dina. They are still yet strangers.

Dina stops and spins around quickly to face him, looking at the ground down in front of him instead of into his eyes as she answers passively. "'Yes, of course, Noah. I promise to be mindful.' "'Good woman,' Noah says sternly. Then, after shooting a suspicious stare of sorts at both Brent and Cam, he turns to face Rosie and grins eagerly as Dina now spins back around and leads Brent, his son, and Lori, who they are still carrying, down the hall. She opens a third door on her left and turns on the light.'

The room reminds Brent of a doctor's examination room, complete with a medical exam table, a sink in the counter, a disposable plastic glove dispenser, a used needle collector, and a cupboard and drawers full of what he presumes to be medical supplies such as bandages and painkillers. Don't say anything if you want to make it out of here alive. Just listen. Dina frantically whispers after she enters.

"'Brent, who would have been stunned by someone "'earnestly saying something like that to him "'a few weeks or even a few days ago, "'makes knowing eye contact with her and nods. "'And then Cam, mouth agape, "'glances between his dad and Dina "'and does the same as they carry Lori fully into the room. "'Moments like this seem almost normal to Brent now. "'Lay her down there on the table,' "'she instructs at full volume, "'sounding totally calm and normal again, "'clearly wanting Noah to hear "'that she is behaving exactly as he expects.'

She then mostly shuts the door behind her, stopping just shy of closing it, and returns to her previous hushed and conspiratorial tone, directing Cam. Stand there and keep an eye out for Mike. Let me know if he's coming down the hall with a big thumbs down, but do not say anything. Who's Mike? Cam asks, confused. Sorry, Dina apologizes, shaking her head and whispering. Mike is Noah's real name.

My daughter and I were kidnapped by him before God revealed to that fucking rapist and murderer that he was his new Noah. Holy fuck, Cam murmurs. That's so insane. Brent feels sick. You don't know the half of it. Add Dina before she tells them both. Now listen carefully if you want a chance at ever making it out of here alive. We don't have much time. I can't think of escaping until I know what's going on with Lori, Brent blurts out. She needs that gash on her head treated before I can do anything.

I'll do everything I can to save her, Dina says reassuringly. I was an RN for almost 20 years and I spent three of those in an ER. At a quick glance, I think she's going to be okay. I'll take her vitals, get the wound cleaned and stitched up. The groan she's been making are a good sign. She's not fully unconscious. She's lost a lot of blood and has what I'm guessing is a moderate brain injury. Hopefully it's very moderate and she'll be conscious again here in the next half hour or so. Do you know if either one of you match her blood type? Yeah, my son has it. O positive.

Brent answers hopefully. That's perfect, Dina replies. I'll need to keep Cam with me, which should be okay. I don't imagine Noah's very interested in him anyway. You will need to tell him that he's giving blood to his mother and that without it she'll die. Play to his ego. Make it seem like him granting this request is him doing you a huge favor and you are so unbelievably grateful. Brent nods understandingly as Cam asks nervously, will she? Will she die if she doesn't get blood?

"'No,' Dina smiles. "'No, I don't think so. But her recovery will take a lot longer without it, and I don't think we'll have time for that. Now stop asking questions and listen.'" "'How familiar are you with your scripture, Rosie?' Noah asked in the dining room. Sitting at the head of the table, shortly after pulling out a chair for Rosie to sit to his left as they both hear the other girls preparing lunch in the nearby kitchen. Girls who still aren't talking, laughing, nothing.'"

Rosie isn't familiar at fucking all with scripture. In fact, she's literally never read from a Bible or gone to church a single time in her entire life. Her parents were both raised in the church. Her mom grew up Catholic and her dad went with his parents off and on to Pentecostal churches mainly.

But both of them left religion behind before she was ever born. Neither one of her step-parents were raised in religion. Her dad and step-mom both have talked about it a fair amount, though. So she at least recognizes the names of various apostles and saints and holidays and the gist of the Christian narrative. She wants to lie to the psychopath, old enough to be her grandpa, who's been looking at her in a way that reminds her of how the horniest boys in school did back when school was still a thing. But she knows that he will know she's lying and that that won't be good.

So instead she says, I've heard a lot of scripture, but father doesn't like me reading it on my own. So I have a hard time quoting it, especially when I'm nervous. Noah smiles at this, looking extremely pleased. He reaches a hand across the table, placing it over one of Rosie's hands and says approvingly, no need to be nervous with me, beautiful child. Your father is right not to let you read it on your own. A girl's mind was not created for interpretation. As it says in 1 Corinthians,

Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home, for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church. Rosie wants to reach across the table and claw Noah's fucking face to shreds, to add some more scars to the several already there, or better yet, to jam her thumbs into his eyes and pop out his eyeballs while blood gushes out of the sockets and he begs for the mercy she will not show him.

Instead, she nods submissively and lies. "'Yes. Yes, I remember my father once sharing that same message with me. "'Praise God!' Noah beamed with a delirious kind of joy. "'Praise God, for he has blessed me with a true virgin, "'raised righteously in his holy grace.'

He then leans forward, close enough for Rosie to smell his sour breath that reeks of coffee, old food trapped in between old teeth, and mucus draining from his sinus, and quietly tells her as if their young lover sharing an intimate secret. "'I don't think my first three wives were honest with me in regards to their sexual inexperience.' As he speaks, he smiles lecherously while glancing first towards the kitchen before staring gratuitously at Rosie's cleavage, like a kid stares at their present beneath the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve."

"'You might just become my number one,' he adds as if he's bestowing the opportunity to receive a great honor upon Rosie. "'The Bathsheba to my King David. Rosie wants to vomit. She wants to cry. She wishes she still had the loaded gun her father had given her in her hand so that she could raise it up, point it at his disgusting face, pull the trigger and put a bullet inside this creepy old fuck's forehead. It would be so satisfying to watch him fall back out of his chair, eyes blank, dead before he even hits the ground.'

to then free the girls he's already taken hostage, to take his compound away from him, leave his body outside for ravens to peck at, and sleep safely for at least a night before figuring out what there is to be done about making it to her grandparents in Whitebird. But she's powerless for the moment, and so she keeps playing along. That would be such a merciful blessing, she says demurely.

Yes, yes, indeed. God is great. He has given me so much to be thankful for and on Thanksgiving Day, no less. Noah laughs happily. God is great. Rosie smiles and repeats. And then mercifully, the other girls interrupt their special moment as they begin setting the table and bringing in the food. Rosie, this is Rhiannon, Noah happily announces. But we call her Rhi. And this is Bethany and Caitlyn.

Pleased to meet you, Reese says passively. And she awkwardly gives a little curtsy, looking to Noah for approval as she does so. Rosie can't help but notice the fear in her eyes and the bruises on her neck. Bruises that one might get from being violently choked. Bethany follows with a pleased to meet you and a forced curtsy of her own. Also glancing at Noah after she does so. He nods approvingly with a smile on his face, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. He hates these girls, Rosie thinks.

He hates her. He hates all women. Bethany has a bruise on her cheekbone from where Rosie assumes she's been slapped. This guy clearly likes to get rough. This new knowledge makes her truly wonder if she will live through the night. If this motherfucker tries anything with her, which he certainly will, she'll fight with everything she has. Caitlin follows with the same greeting and curtsy. The same nervous glance for approval.

She doesn't have any noticeable bruises, but Rosie guesses, correctly, that they exist, and are just covered up by the strange, old-timey dress that covers most of her skin. If she were able to see the girls' bruised and scratched upper thighs, she might not be able to hide her rage and disgust any longer. "'Rosie will soon become your sister, girls. After a very brief courtship, of course,' Noah proclaims proudly to the girls, looking at Rosie, who forces another smile."

We had so much to be thankful for already on this glorious day, and now we have so much more. God is great. God is great. All three girls obediently and robotically repeat in unison, with Rosie saying it directly afterwards. Our other guests minus the woman will be joining us momentarily. Go ahead and bring out the food and drink. Noah instructs the young women, who solemnly nod and return to the kitchen as quietly as they'd left it.

Noah returns his predatory gaze now to Rosie and informs her, while staring at her intensely with light blue eyes that are scarier and more full of madness than the red eyes of the infected she'd been terrified to see less than an hour earlier. After a few incredibly uncomfortable moments of him just silently staring at her, he finally announces, as if he is telling her that she has literally just won the fucking lottery and will be living on Easy Street the rest of her life, We shall wed tomorrow. Tonight, you go to bed still a girl.

But tomorrow night you shall go to bed as a woman, a woman sacredly conjoined to one of God's new prophets as we usher in the most glorious age ever witnessed by man. Rosie is thankful he can't read her mind. She pictures standing up and kicking him in the chest and sending him back over his chair onto the floor.

Before he can get back up, she's then alternating between stomping on his dick and kicking him in the face. And she just keeps stomping and kicking until his skull is flattened, until his dick and balls have been smashed into a mangled and bloody pulp, into something that looks like a small scrap of roadkill that's been run over by dozens of cars and trucks for days. All of that flashes through her mind in about a second's time. And then she says, smiling, how glorious, Noah, what wondrous times we live in.

He seems to buy it. His grin widens, looking incredibly pleased with himself. He exudes the energy of a true narcissist. It's his world, and we aren't just merely living in it. The rest of us exist solely to indulge his every whim and bear witness to his glory. Over the next few minutes, Ree, Bethany, and Caitlin finish setting the table. It's quite a spread, with sliced ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, black olives, salad, and even pumpkin pie.

Despite how afraid she is of Noah, despite how worried she is about her badly wounded stepmom, Lori, despite how worried she is about so, so many people and the current horrific state of the world in general, she is also now suddenly starving. She hasn't eaten anything like this in the last few weeks and her stomach grumbles loudly in anticipation as her mouth salivates.

And then, just after the girls have sat down to join them, right as Noah turns his head towards the hallway to, Rosie assumes, yell for her father and brother to hurry up and join them as well, her dad walks into the adjoining room, minus her brother. And before we find out what Brent has learned about Noah from Dina, it is time for our mid-show sponsor break.

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What Dina has just shared with him has literally left him feeling a bit dizzy. He knows without a shadow of a doubt. In order to try and protect his family, he'll have to try and kill Noah. And soon, possibly before the day is over. Dina told he and Cam that she used to live just down the road with her 15-year-old daughter Rhiannon, 18-year-old son Dominic, and Dale, her husband and her children's father.

She quickly explained that they'd lived in their home for over a decade and that Mike, aka Noah, had bought his place and started to construct his doomsday compound around five or six years ago. He was ex-military, special forces of some kind, and batshit crazy. He'd stop by to introduce himself and immediately weirded them all out. He invited them to dinner a few times and to church a few other times over the next year or two, and they always made up some excuse as to why they couldn't make it.

And then about a year back, he'd swung by when Rhiannon was out grabbing the mail. And he really, really creeped her out. She told her mom that he was blatantly checking her out in a way that made her skin crawl and definitely flirting with her. Then he invited her, and only her, a 14-year-old girl at the time, to stop by his place. Said he'd love to talk to her about the Bible. Dina told her husband and Dale went ballistic. He grabbed a shotgun and jumped in his truck, despite Dina trying to stop him.

When he came back about 20 minutes later, he was as white as a ghost. He would never say exactly what happened between he and Mike, only that Mike was very, very dangerous and unstable, and that she and the kids were to never, ever talk with him again. If he approached them, they were to turn and walk away. If they were on their property, they were to come inside the house, lock the door, call the police, and then call him as well if he wasn't already home. She said she had never seen Dale get so shook before. Mike never swung by after that, at least not openly.

But a few times at night, Rhi had heard someone lurking around in the darkness just outside her bedroom window. And one time when she looked, she saw a man dressed all in black sneaking away. She told her parents and they called the police, but they wouldn't tell them that they thought it was their neighbor because they didn't have any proof and because Dale was afraid of what Mike might do in retaliation. Then when the Red Plague first hit the area, when law and order began to fall apart, Mike came back to their property during the day.

Dale yelled at him from behind a little wall he had made out of sandbags from which he could pop outside, crouch behind, and be somewhat protected if he needed to shoot at anyone. He yelled while pointing a hunting rifle at Mike to stay the fuck away from he and his family forever if he wanted to live. And when he didn't drive off straight away after that, Dale fired a warning shot up into the air. If only he had aimed and tried to hit him. Mike drove off and Dina had a bad feeling he'd be back. She just didn't think he'd be back so soon.

That night, a few hours later, when Dale went outside to grab some firewood, Mike shot him dead with his sniper's rifle. Their son Dominic, not immediately realizing what was happening, ran out to try and help his dad when he fell to the ground, and Mike shot him dead as well. Directly after killing her husband and son, Mike showed up at the locked front door and kicked it in.

She tried to hide with Ree in her bedroom closet, but of course he'd found them. He shouted out some scripture he used to somehow justify what he had done, acting like what he did was righteous somehow. And rather than try to hurt him, run away, or even tacitly condemn the man who had just killed her only son and husband, she played along, knowing it was her only chance to save her daughter.

Just hours later, that fucking psycho made her be the witness to the marriage between he and her teenage daughter. And directly following that ceremony, he began to rape Rhi. And Rhi told her mother that if she resisted in any way, he beat her. And when Dina then tried to intervene on behalf of her daughter, he beat her as well. So they both stopped pushing back pretty early on.

For weeks, they'd been trying to build his trust to get him to let his guard down so they could kill him. But the perfect opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. And it would have to be the perfect opportunity because if they failed, he would surely kill them both.

♪♪

When Cam asked why he hadn't killed him, his dad, and his mom, she said she didn't know for sure, but she thought that he was probably hoping they would be able to help him defend his compound, which he called the Ark. Just a few days before, a massive red gang of over 50 red eyes had made it through the fence at the back of the property and almost gotten into their underground bunker. She'd heard him mention that God told him he needed to begin building up his own army after that.

and he also wanted to have somebody to move the dead bodies of the infected into a big mass grave he dug at the back of the compound so he didn't have to risk infection himself. Finally, Dina showed Brent a loaded FNX-45 tactical handgun. With an attached suppressor, she had hidden behind boxes of gauze and bandages. It looked like something out of a spy movie. She said she'd found it on the property. Maybe it had belonged to one of the people Noah had killed. She didn't think he knew about it.

But when should Brent try and use it? Noah was almost always on high alert. And based on what he and Dina had collectively witnessed, an incredibly accurate shot and a fast shot. All of this information is on Brent's mind as he approaches the guy who clearly intends to make his daughter another one of his teen brides. Noah, Brent says solemnly, you've already done so much for my family. And I don't want to offend you by asking for more than I deserve.

But I humbly ask if it will be all right for my son to miss this meal in order to give his mother a blood transfusion Dina feels is necessary to keep her alive. Brent made sure to say mother instead of stepmother He assumed that Noah wasn't a big fan of blended families in place of answering immediately Noah shut his eyes then he bowed his head and he mumbles something. No one else can quite make out Rosie watches the other girls quickly glance each other and then at her nervously. She's nervous, too

What the hell is he doing? Praying? Thinking he's speaking directly to God? What will he do if he thinks God doesn't like her dad's request? Kill him right in front of her? After maybe 30 seconds or so of mumbling, Noah goes silent for about another 30 seconds. He then nods his head a few times and grins as he opens his eyes to speak. God and I both appreciate your humility, he says, as if that's a normal statement to make.

What kind of host would I be if I denied my soon-to-be bride's mother this chance to stay alive and witness the role this arc will play in the rise of a new Eden? Yes, of course. This is great news, both for my wife and for my daughter. Brent smiles, genuinely relieved for his wife and simultaneously horrified to hear that he does, in fact, plan to marry his daughter like he'd assumed. He then adds, I shall tell your nurse and then return. Thank you for your incredible kindness.

Brent wonders for a moment if he's laying it on too thick. If Noah, if Mike will see through his bad acting. But no, he only nods and says, be quick. I don't want the food to grow cold before we say grace. Brent nods in agreement saying, thank you again and heads back down the hall. This guy loves to be feared, he thinks, to fully control the lives of everyone around him. He wants to be worshipped. No one is happier about the current crumbling of civilization than this sick fuck.

By the time he makes it back to the room his wife is in, Dina's already inserted a needle into Cam's arm and is about to start drawing blood from him to give to Lori. Noah has allowed the transfusion. God is great. Brent gushes a bit louder than he'd intended. God is great, Dina repeats. Both she and Brent then look to Cam, who now repeats it as well as he rolls his eyes. I forgot to ask. Brent whispers before he heads back to the dining room. Is this room ever locked? Not that I've ever seen, quietly answers Dina.

Okay, says Brent. I don't have a plan formed in my mind quite yet, but knowing that I can come back here to grab this will help me come up with one quick. Then he turns to his son. Just do whatever you think he wants you to do and say whatever you think he wants to hear until we make our move, okay? Okay, Dad. I love you, Cam says softly. He looks so scared. Brent is so fucking tired of seeing his son look so terrified.

If only they had been able to keep driving down towards Whitebird. If they could just make it there, maybe, just maybe, they could all relax a bit and not feel so terrified all the time. I love you too, Brent says and squeezes his kid's shoulder. Cam is and has always been such a good kid. Sweet, kind, and responsible. So eager to make his family proud of him. He's too good for this dumpster fire of a world.

Now I gotta go, Brent says, then turns to leave, but Dina reaches forward and grabs his arm. You have to act fast, she urges with wide, panicked eyes. Whatever it is, you have to do it soon. He could receive a new vision at any moment and decide to kill you all, to kill us all, regardless of how much you've been telling him exactly what he wants to hear. Brent nods solemnly and then walks away with what feels like the weight of the world on his shoulders. If you're real and you're listening, God, he thinks, I am begging you to please help me kill this motherfucker.

If he's your new prophet and you'll need a replacement, I'll gladly take his place and be a whole lot kinder to the rest of your people than this egomaniacal scumbag. A minute or so later, and Brent is sitting down with Noah, his daughter Rosie, and the three young women who Noah has introduced as his brides. Ree, Dina's poor daughter, and Bethany and Caitlin, girls who this asshole kidnapped after murdering their families. Now let's say grace. The megalomaniac cult leader Noah begins...

But is someone a co-leader if he forces his followers to worship him under the threat of violence? Brent wonders. Co-leader or not, he leads them in a prayer exactly as insane and apocalyptic as Brent expects. Lord God, Heavenly Father, we thank you for the blessings we are about to receive. Blessings upon blessings you have bestowed upon the Ark in these times of turmoil.

We thank you for the protection you have shown our home. We thank you for the food you have generously given us to eat. We thank you for choosing me as one of your humble prophets and servants, for allowing me to be a vessel of divine judgment and retribution, for helping me cull the wheat from the chaff.

Brent's thankful too in this moment. Thankful that Noah's eyes seem genuinely closed as he prays because he can't restrain himself from cringing and clenching his jaw tight when he hears Noah openly lusting after his young daughter.

He wishes he'd brought the gun as he briefly considered, and he imagines himself putting a bullet in Noah's face mid-prayer, and then emptying the rest of the magazine in his corpse.

But he also realized that somehow that former special forces fuck would probably sense him moving. The gun would make some kind of noise as he pulled it out from his waistband behind his back and he'd be shot dead at the table in front of his daughter. And then his son and wife would probably be executed to make sure they couldn't avenge his death. And his daughter would be even more violently ravaged by this motherfucker than he was already likely planning. Meanwhile, Noah continues with his prayer.

And you have blessed me as well with two soldiers for the army I must build for New Eden, and with another servant to assist with maintaining the ark, if you decide in your heavenly wisdom and mercy to allow her to live.

May you, O Lord, continue to bless us as we fight the forces of Satan. May we take enough strength from this blessed nourishment to keep the ark protected from the demonic horde that man's sins have rightfully brought upon the earth. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord, may we never forget the wondrous meal and fellowship we share in this moment through your grace. Amen. Amen. Brent, Rosie, and the rest repeat. Now dig in before the food gets any colder than it already is.

Noah suddenly snaps, his mood having shifted schizophrenically as he shoots Brent a quick irritated glare for, he assumes having the nerve to ask permission for his son to give his wife a life-saving blood transfusion. Prior to this moment, Noah had been somewhat hospitable in his own horrible, peculiar way. And Brent now understands Dina's worry about how he can change his mind at any second for any moment and decide to attack them. He's clearly wildly unstable, obviously mentally ill.

After they all eat a few bites of what is actually a delicious and still warm Thanksgiving meal, Noah bluntly asks Brent, so where were you heading? Genuinely confused for a second, Brent answers with a bewildered, heading? I'm not sure what you mean. Well, then let me speak slower and dumb it down for you. Noah patronizes with more than a hint of menace in his voice. Where were you heading when you wrecked your overpriced status symbol?

Holy shit, he is making it hard to stay calm, Brent thinks, barely managing to hide his rage. In better days, when almost everyone worried at least a little about going to prison or getting sued, he would have told this psycho to go fuck himself. Sorry. Yes, of course. Brent instead replies meekly. We have family down in the Whitebird area, my mother and father. And how do you know they're still alive? Noah asks coldly before taking a big bite of mashed potatoes and gravy.

"'I guess we don't,' Brent replies. "'Not for sure, but I spoke with him on the phone early this morning.' "'Really?' Noah says, surprised, speaking with some food still in his mouth. "'They still have cell service.' "'I'm not sure. I called them on their landline,' Brent answers. "'Mmm!' Noah nods contemplatively. "'Why go to them? Why not have them come to you?' "'Well, they have a lot of land and a bunch of guns and other supplies,' Brent shares.'

Under other circumstances, he'd be hesitant to disclose information about them, but he wasn't worried about Noah heading to Whitebird with him, because in all likelihood, before the sun were to set in a few hours, either he or Noah will be dead. I'm pretty familiar with the area. Where do your parents live? Noah inquires. On the edge of town, down in the canyon? Up on the hill towards Grangeville? Or down along the Salmon River, back towards Slate Creek, or across the river towards Pittsburgh Landy?

"'Damn,' Brent thinks. He really does know the area well. "'Just south of town,' he answers. "'On the other side of that cut-off off of the highway from town just south of the big bridge. Off of Baker Creek Road. Mm, uh-huh. I can picture it.' Noah says after pausing to think. "'Sparcely populated area,' he adds. "'Nice defensive positions halfway up the mountainside with very few trees to interfere with your sightlines.'

"'Vulnerable, though, to a good sniper. "'Or to a red gang dropping down from the ridge above "'after climbing up the other side from town. "'It's good you're no longer headed there. "'You're much safer here. "'I don't disagree.' "'Brett responds quickly. "'It's truly incredible what you've built. "'It's also incredible how casually you continually dismiss "'the concerns and desires of literally everyone else around you,' he thinks. "'When God works through you, anything is possible.' "'Noah smiles. "'Amen,' Brett answers.'

And then Noah abruptly stands up, his eyes burn with a new intensity. Staring out into the middle distance above everyone seated below him, he extends his hands out from his sides, much like Christ on the cross, and begins to passionately recite scripture like a preacher at an old school tent revival.

At that time, Michael, the great prince who protects your people will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time, your people, everyone whose name is found written in the book, will be delivered. Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake, some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt. He now directs his impassioned, mad gaze towards Brent.

Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever. But you, Daniel, roll up and seal the words of the scroll until the time of the end. Many will go here and there to increase knowledge. As abruptly as he stood up, Noah now sits back down, continuing to stare at Brent, but a bit confrontationally now, as he says...

This was obviously a test. Shit.

If this was more of a casual conversation with far less severe consequences, he'd probably guess the book of Revelation. He felt like that was what Noah, what Mike, wanted him to say. But it was a trick. So what book was it? The book of Daniel? The message was being addressed to Daniel. And Brent suddenly flashed on a memory of his dad mentioning the book of Daniel as having apocalyptic verses. The book of Daniel, Brent says as confidently as he can, looking Noah directly in the eye and smiling. One of my father's favorites.

"'Noah hesitates before speaking, "'continuing to stare at Brent "'as all the girls at the table stop eating "'and watch both men. "'The tension between them is so thick.'

"'Yes!' Noah exclaims loudly, his grim countenance quickly turning suddenly friendly again, as if someone had just flipped some sort of mood light switch in his brain. "'The Book of Daniel, of course!' "'Chapter 12. A prophecy that foretold that a short time before the end of the world, there will be an increase in travel and knowledge. A prophecy being fulfilled this very moment. There has never been travel like there has been in recent years with our modern secular technology and the forming of a one-world economy and government.'

There has never been such an increase in knowledge since the advent of the Internet. And much of that knowledge, most of that knowledge is filth, pornography, blasphemy. And then there is, of course, the second letter of Peter, chapter 3 to consider.

"'Above all, you must understand that in the last days "'scoffers will come, scoffing and following their own evil desires. "'They will say, "'Where is this coming?' he promised. "'Ever since our ancestors died, "'everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation.'

But they deliberately forget that long ago by God's word the heavens came into being and the earth was formed out of water and by water. By these waters also the word of that time was deluged and destroyed. By the same word the present heavens and earth are reserved for fire, being kept for the day of judgment and destruction of the ungodly. How many in recent years have fought against God's perfect word being taught in the schools? Noah asked Brent.

The arrogance, the ungratefulness. How many protest against God's commands and fight for queers and men who wish to be women and the murder of innocent babies, the hubris. How many see the Bible as nothing more than a book of old myths and lies and God is no more than man's invention. This utterly demonic attack on faith is what brought this red plague upon us all. An obvious sign of the end times.

but for those of us who have studied God's message with diligence. We have known the end times are coming for many years, and we have prepared. Noah spoke that last sentence with a bit more venom and uttered it accusingly. The implication was clear. Brent was no real man of God, not like Noah. If he had been, he would have had his own end times compound. He would have seen the signs and prepared. He would not be held hostage on Noah's and subject to his whims.

Rather than risk any type of confrontation he'd been working so hard to avoid, Brent plays dumb and pretends he had missed the message. Amen, Noah. Amen, he cheers. Taking another big bite of mashed potatoes, Noah stares at Brent contemptuously. He continues to stare at him, unblinking, as he chews his food.

Rosie suddenly can't take it anymore. It feels like Noah is continuously baiting her father, trying to goad him into a fight, probably so he can feel justified in killing him. So she asks a question to change the subject.

Noah, how long have you- BAM! Noah twists around so quickly and swings his right hand across his body so swiftly that Rosie doesn't see the slap coming until she feels it. The force of the blow nearly knocks her back off of her chair. By the time she processes being hit, her left eye is already leaking tears and her left cheekbone is red and feeling hot. She doesn't know what to say or what to do. Rosie's stunned into silence.

This is the first time in her life anyone has ever hit her in the face. And he hit her so hard. And now Noah's lecturing her with more scripture.

Women should remain silent in the churches. They are not allowed to speak, but must be in submission, as the law says. If they want to inquire about something, they should ask their own husbands at home, for it is disgraceful for a woman to speak in the church. 1 Corinthians chapter 14, a verse I already shared with you before that you would have been wise to remember. When I am citing or interpreting scripture, girl, you are at

church and you will respect God's law or you will be punished. No discipline seems pleasant at the time but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Book of Hebrews. Rosie desperately doesn't want to give this piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing her cry, but she can't help it. She doesn't know she's allowed to speak now, so instead she just nods and looks down to the floor. You may speak, child, Noah informs her.

She hates hearing the tremble in her voice as she answers, and hates seeing the tears in her father's eyes even more, knowing he desperately wants to protect her but can't. Yes, yes, Noah, please forgive me. She pleads.

Brent's blood is fucking boiling. He can't wait much longer. He needs to go back and get the gun from the medical room. He figures if he just starts firing, the second he turns the corner towards the dining room table from the hallway when he returns, he'll at least have a chance. Worst case, his daughter will know he died trying to save her instead of just sitting there watching her get hit by the man who intends to rape her and not doing a goddamn thing like a coward.

A loud warning siren blares across the compound from several speakers outside following the sound of a big explosion. Suddenly, Noah is no longer interested in scripture, apocalyptic speculation, or hitting teenage girls in their faces. He stands up and looks out the window, listening to the siren blaring and looking past a chain-link fence and seeing a massive red gang of at least a hundred men and women. And for the first time that Brent has noticed, Noah looks afraid.

And despite his own life and the lives of his wife and children now being in even greater danger, Brent relishes this moment. Noah's fear gives him strength. Praise be to the Lord my rock who trains my hand for war, my fingers for battle. Noah utters to no one in particular as he briefly studies the red eyes who are just beginning to pour through an opening created by blowing up the compound's entrance gate and surrounding fencing.

The first red eyes to enter are on foot and carrying all sorts of different weapons. Some have assault rifles, others have handguns, and still others are carrying much cruder weapons like axes and hammers. Brent spots one particularly insane looking red eye running with what looks like a grenade in each hand. While they must have gathered quickly and silently outside the gates, they're now screaming, yipping, whooping, and yelling battle cries like, We are the storm! I am the lion! And trust the plan!

Everyone stay where you are! Noah commands as he runs into the kitchen. Brent is about to yell for Rosie to follow him down the hall towards Cam and Lori when they all hear gunfire followed immediately by a barrage of bullets shattering the windows of the exterior wall behind the table. Ree starts screaming as Brent yells at Rosie, Get down! She's already instinctively crouching towards the floor and he's following suit. Brent turns towards the other girls to see why Ree is screaming. Bethany's dead and Caitlin's dying. They've both been shot multiple times.

Caitlin's been hit in the chest and convulses and spasms on the floor, bleeding profusely and desperately trying to breathe with what must be a collapsed lung. Ree's still standing paralyzed with fear as Brent crawls towards her so he can drag her to the ground before she also gets shot. He'd forgotten about his fractured ribs and now they're reminding him that they won't be healed anytime soon. The motion of crawling is excruciatingly painful. Brent's initially surprised that the Red Eyes have attacked them so aggressively without first attempting to confirm if their fellow infected or not.

But then he remembers Dina telling him that just a few days earlier, a massive red gang had made it through the fence at the back of the property and almost gotten into their underground bunker. He assumes Noah didn't kill them all and that some of them, or at least one of them, snuck away and found reinforcements they've returned with now, which is shocking. He didn't think they were capable of displaying restraint and strategy like that. And he wonders if the disease is evolving. It must be.

He makes it to Rhi after crawling under the table and pulls her down to the floor. She's still screaming as he grabs her by the shoulders, shakes her and yells, Rhi, we have to leave now. Follow me. This seems to snap her out of her stupor just enough for her to understand what he said and actually listen. Rosie, he now shouts as he crawls back under the table with Rhi behind him. Follow us down the hall towards Lori and Cam. Caitlin's now dead. Her body has stopped moving.

Dad! Cam yells as he now runs into the room. What's happening? Get the fuck down! Brent screams at his son. We have to crawl back to Lori! Red eyes are storming us! Cam drops to the floor as more bullets fly into the room and some red eyes make it dangerously close to the building.

Lori woke up, Dad! She woke up! Cam announces as he turns back towards the hall and crawls. That's incredible! Brent yells back, barely heard over the gunfire. He's fueled by new hope amidst the chaos. A series of explosions outside shatter still more glass and now the sound of multiple red eyes screaming in pain fills the air. Brent raises up slightly on his knees and peeks out and sees smoke and shredded body parts. Fucker must have a grenade launcher, he mumbles.

He does, shouts Ree from behind him. Brent can't believe she's hurt him. She continues now yelling, he has all kinds of military equipment. He stole some when he wrecked a military convoy with some kind of booby trap and he killed whoever didn't die in the crash. God damn, he's like Rambo. Brent shouts back as they all keep crawling. He's fucking crazy, Ree screams. I hope they kill him. Another series of explosions, more screaming, followed by the sounds of a very big machine gun unleashing hell as it fires a whole bunch of rounds.

Lori, we're coming for you! Brent now yells down the hallway. Ri! Dina now yells, peeking her head out from the medical room. Where are you? Mom! Ri yells back, I'm coming! A few moments later, while non-stop gunfire, screaming, and sporadic explosions continue outside, Brent makes it into the medical room, with the rest entering right behind him. Baby? Baby, where are the kids? Lori asks weakly. Just seeing her conscious and speaking immediately puts tears in Brent's eyes. Oh my god, baby, I was so fucking worried, he says as he gently hugs her.

I manage to finish showing shut the wound right before all hell broke loose. Dina says she hugs her daughter. I wish we'd had time for Cam to give her more blood, but I think she has enough to walk with help. Thank you. Brent gushes as he lets Lori go and now hugs Dina. Then he asks her, are there any more guns in the house other than the one you showed me? Yes, in the back downstairs. But Noah keeps him locked up, she answers. He states and then says...

Dad, no!

"'No, you're fucking not!' Brent screams back. "'There's only one gun here. "'No point in having a second unarmed target for Noah or these red eyes to be shooting at. "'Dad, you can't stop me!' Cam defiantly argues. "'Brent grabs his son and slams him hard into the wall, screaming in his face. "'Stay in the fucking room with Lori and your sister, Cam! Please!'

Cam breaks down and starts sobbing. It's all so overwhelming. Please don't die, Dad. He begs. Brent hugs his son tight, but he doesn't hug him long. There's no time. He quickly hugs Rosie and Lori as well and then grabs that FNX-45 tactical handgun. The suppressor on it might just save his ass. Might just save all their asses if he misses his first shot or two. Where do you think I'll find Noah? He asks Dina.

Less than a minute later, Brent is crawling back down the hallway towards the main room. It's harder to see what's going on outside now. There's so much smoke from all the explosions. Screaming and sporadic gunfire continues. We are the storm! A badly wounded and very bloody red-eye screams as he stumbles in through the now open front door. Brent fires twice with the FNX. The second shot hits the guy in the mouth and drops him.

Thanks for the practice. Brent mumbles as he now crawls, his ribs screaming at him back towards the dining room table. After about ten seconds, he's made it past the table to the door to the kitchen. Pushing it open, he's able to pop up onto his feet and make it across the kitchen to a door that leads to the back patio, where Dina felt like he would probably find Noah and have the best vantage point to shoot him from. Yes! Brent exclaims triumphantly as he looks out the door's window. There you are, you fuck!

Noah's crouched down inside some kind of machine gun nest he's built, surrounded by a circle of sandbags with a few gaps to enter and exit. His finger on the trigger of a beastly KPV 14.5mm heavy machine gun. A really heavy machine gun. This thing can take down tanks. Its massive rounds will shred through any domestic vehicle the red eyes might be driving, fortified or not.

He also has what looks like two M32 multiple round grenade launchers lying on the ground next to him, several ammo boxes and various handguns. And he is lighting these red eyes the fuck up. Brent again thinks about how much it sucks for this asshole to be such a delusional psychopath. If he was just a decent person, he'd be about the best ally you could have in the current state of the world.

Noah's distracted, focused on the carnage. His head and neck are totally exposed. Brent can easily get at least a shot on him before he knows he's near, but he doesn't take it. Not because he's scared to, but because if he kills Noah too quickly, he'll be killing himself, his family, Dina, and Rhi as well. He won't be able to fight off the rest of the Red Eyes alone. Not a chance.

How many are left, he wonders. When will he feel like he can kill Noah and make a break for it? He needs to be patient. He crouches down and waits for the gunfire to stop. After about 30 more seconds, it does, outside of what sounds like a lone gunman in the distance. He pops back up when he hears Noah roar, "But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior, so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail. Fuck your storm!"

Brent can't help but smirk a bit over those last three words. He's pretty sure that wasn't scripture. He peeks down and Noah's leaving the protection of the sandbags. He's grabbed a lighter machine gun and he's heading for the stairs that lead up to the back porch. Fuck, fuck. Brent hisses as Noah now begins to ascend the stairs heading right towards him. It's do or die time.

Brent hears gunfire from inside the house now and yelling and screaming from the medical room. A red eye, maybe several red eyes have found his family and they don't have any firearms. And Noah will be inside the house in seconds. He doesn't know what to do. Run back towards his family to attack the red eye with Noah in hot pursuit or stay where he is and try and kill Noah and then deal with the red eye. His hesitation, the exact thing he constantly warns his kids about makes his decision for him.

He can hear Noah's boots stomping across the patio. It's too late to do anything else but wait. He crouches down, pins himself up against the wall, facing and pointing his gun towards the door just in time for Noah to open it.

Time slows down thanks to the adrenaline as he fires off two shots in rapid succession. The first misses, the second catches Noah in the side of the face, the bullet passing through his left cheek, shattering a few upper molars before exiting out his mouth. That shot doesn't send Noah to the ground. Instead, he begins to twirl around towards Brent, raising his machine gun. Brent fires another two shots.

Both land this time, one in his shoulder and the second in his upper chest. Now Noah, his eyes revealing how completely stunned he is and betrayed he feels, lowers his weapon as he begins to fall. Fuck you! Brent roars and fires two more shots towards Noah's body. And then he begins to run back towards the medical room. He doesn't know if either of those last two shots landed. He's too worried about his family to check and he needs to save all the ammo he can for what's ahead.

He assumes his handgun has a 15-round magazine, but he doesn't know for sure, and doesn't know if it was fully loaded when he got it. He has nine shots left, at best. Screaming continues from the medical room, but the gunfire is stopped. Brent's running. There's no time to be cautious. As he rounds the corner into the hallway, he sees the body of a red-eye on the floor, and hears him gurgling on what sounds like blood. He quickly fires a single shot into the head of the infected man, who looks like he's been stabbed in the neck once he's standing above him. And now he looks into the room.

Lori's barely conscious, but she looks unharmed. Or rather, she doesn't look like she's been hurt any more than she already was. Rosie is also unharmed, but looks terrified. Rhi is the one who's been screaming. She's finally stopped. She holds her mother, who's dead. Dean has been shot in the neck and face. Cam's washing his hands in the sink. He looks scared. Dad, he says, sounding worried. Dad!

I stabbed him, he stammers. I stabbed him and I got his blood all over my arm and I got some on my face too that I just washed off. Brent fights not to have his face reveal how scared he is for his son. He realizes he hasn't felt any symptoms and since it's been an hour or two since he may have been infected by that red eye who climbed onto the side of the Range Rover back by the bridge that led out of Coeur d'Alene, he's probably okay. But now there's a good chance that his son is infected. A very good chance, he thinks without wanting to.

We don't know for sure if you can catch it that way, Brent tells his son. I think I killed Noah, he says next. I definitely shot him, and now we have to go. Where? asks Rosie. Re, he yells. Rhiannon, he yells louder when she doesn't respond. How do we get into the bunker? he asks. Noah, she cries. Noah has the keys. Fuck, Brent yells. I'll go grab them. I'm coming with you, Cam says defiantly. Brent doesn't have it in him to argue again. Fine, let's go.

The father and son run back towards where Brent shot Noah. Along the way, Cam picks up an assault rifle off of the red eye he stabbed. Fuck it, he tells his dad. He already bled on me. Brent doesn't love it, but he can't argue with the logic. And they do need weapons. When they make it back to the door to the back patio, Brent's stomach sinks. Noah's gone. There's a thin trail of blood leading out onto the patio.

Brent hisses. He's gone. He could be anywhere. We have to get the fuck off this compound now. Cam doesn't argue and spins around. They both run back to the medical room. The smoke outside is clearing and Brent doesn't detect any movement. Maybe Noah's all they have to worry about at the moment. And he has to be pretty wounded.

Rosie! He yells when he makes it to the medical room doorway. Help Lori get off the table. We gotta go now. I can help her, Dad. Cam protests. Cam! Brent shouts back. You might be infected. I need you to minimize contact with the rest of us. I'm sorry, he adds weakly off of Cam's wince. Cam nods and Brent turns to Rhiannon. I'm so sorry about your mom, but we have to leave now. Noah's still alive somewhere.

Oh my god, she says. As upset as she is about her mom's death, the fear of Noah finding her again springs her into action. We need to head to the main gate, Brent announces. Cam and I will walk in front so we can fire on any red eyes we come across. Rosie, you and Ree, help Lori walk. Lori, exhausted and wounded as she is, nods to let him know she can do this. Pray we can find one of these red eyes trucks with the keys inside so we can drive on out of here, Brent tells them.

He hates the thought of sitting in one of the infected's vehicles. A vehicle possibly crawling with whatever pathogen turns people into a conspiratorial, bloodthirsty maniac. But what other option do they have?

Less than a minute later, the five of them are walking out the door. The dead and the dying are everywhere. A considerable amount of smoke still hangs in the air. One of the guard towers is on fire. There's no sign of Noah or of any unwounded red eyes. In a hushed tone, Brent tells the group, Stay quiet and keep your eyes peeled. If you see danger, try and tell me where on the clock they are. Straight ahead is noon.

After about 30 seconds of walking slowly towards the compound's main entrance, Brent sees a lifted, newer-looking Toyota Tundra with two big flags in the back. "'We are the storm, and don't tread on me. That truck,' he says quietly as he directs his group with his gun. "'We head there.' Ree and his family silently agree. They got lucky. The truck was empty and not covered in blood, with the key in the ignition and nearly a full tank of gas."

There are a few big bullet holes in the back, but the tires are fine and no fluid seems to be leaking. Best of all, the truck looks like a red-eye must-be-driving-it, which increases the odds of them not being fucked with. Brent helps Rosie load Lori into the back seat. She sits in the middle, and the girls then sit on either side of her. Cam takes the passenger seat, assault rifle still in hand. Brent starts up the truck and feels the most relief he's felt in hours when they all hear and feel its V8 roar to life.

And then incredibly, no one shoots at them as he backs up, then puts the truck in drive and heads back down the driveway they had just walked up only a few hours before. What a fucking day. What a completely insane fucking day, Brent thinks. As the sun sets, they drive back up onto Highway 95 and head south past the wreckage of the Range Rover. Brent thinks briefly about stopping to grab some of their stuff, but what if some red eyes were to spot them? No.

No, they can't risk it. Rosie tells him there's a few guns and a bunch of boxes of ammo in the back on the floor, probably more under the seat. That's all they need. They have to keep driving. They still have to make it to Whitebird. Brent pulls out his cell phone so he can call his mom. No service. And his battery's almost dead. He wonders if Noah is almost dead as well. How's that turkey? Cam suddenly asks out of nowhere. Says it confused Brent. That turkey weight? Cam teases. I can smell it.

You didn't even save me and Lori a piece, did you? You selfish asshole. I'm fucking starving. Brent can't help but laugh a little at that. It's the first laugh he's had in hours. But then he stops when he thinks about the red-eyed blood Cam got all over his arm and on his face. This fucked up day was still a long ways from over. It would still be hours until he could relax, if he could ever relax again. Relaxing feels like another taken-for-granted luxury of a bygone era.

Noah locks the hatch above him. He's hurt, and badly. His upper jaw is throbbing, but he's not worried about that wound. He's not going to bleed to death from his gum or his cheek, and he'll soon be able to pull out any fragments of broken teeth. He's not worried about his shoulder either. The bullet pass cleaned through him and didn't hit anything life-threatening. But that agent of Satan also shot him in the chest, and while he didn't hit his lung, he's worried about internal bleeding.

He shot him in the thigh, too, and he's not sure if the bullet passed through him or not. It might be stuck in his femur. That ungrateful heretic probably stole his nurse from him as well. And his wives, he thinks, as he crawls to the medical room in the bunker. A much nicer medical room with better supplies than the one in the lodge above ground. He reasons he should be able to hide out down here for a few weeks and regain his strength. He's a little worried about not having access to anyone with any medical expertise.

But he still has something more important than that. Something no one can or will ever take from him. His faith. And his faith will keep him strong. Quoting scripture gives him comfort and helps numb his pain. Heal me, Lord, he utters aloud, and I will be healed. Save me and I will be saved. For you are the one I praise. And the Lord will heal him. And then the Lord will guide him to Whitebird, where he will enact his divine retribution.

Perhaps the Ark is not where the Lord wants him to create a new Eden. Perhaps New Eden will rise in a new compound he'll build further south. "'Trust in the Lord with all your heart,' he groans. "'And lean not on your own understanding. "'In all your ways submit to him, and he will make your path straight.'

And then before Noah, before Mike Ormsby loses consciousness, he finds comfort in one final verse, picturing Brent Collins and his family as he recites it. I will carry out great vengeance on them and punish them in my wrath. Then they will know that I am the Lord when I take vengeance on them.

And that's it for this Nightmare Fuel. I hope you loved or were horrified by or were at least entertained by today's tale of the storm, Chapter 2, The Ark, the second in a three-episode run. And after that, a world I feel pretty confident we'll revisit again down the road. This new world of the Red Plague features monsters worse than the infected.

If I could push pause on all the other content I record each week, I'd stay here for a while. Even though I hate this new world. It's terrible. It's hell. But also full of so many possible stories. Thanks for all the feedback online asking me to continue with it. Today's tale was written by me, Dan Cummins, and scored by Logan Keith.

If you enjoyed this story, check out the rest of the Bad Magic Productions catalog. Time Suck every Monday at noon Pacific time with little short sucks on some Fridays and these new Nightmare Fuel episodes on some Fridays as well. Or maybe they're not so new now. Been doing it almost a year. And new episodes of the now long-running Paranormal Podcast, Scared to Death, every Tuesday at midnight. Please go to badmagicproductions.com for all your bad magic needs, including all show-related merch, and stay scared. Bad Magic Productions.

Bye.

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