The nightmare never left me, haunting my dreams every night.

  The day the world ended.

  The day the world ended.

  The day the world ended.

  Alarms blared.

  Cars honked.

  People screamed.

  Gods—so much screaming.

  No light illuminated my room, nothing at all.

  Panic filled me. My door swung open, and someone came in.

  “Shh, shh, Cerys, shhh, baby girl.”

  It was me that was screaming.

  Warm arms wrapped around me and pulled me into a soft embrace. “Mom?” I held onto her tight, ever so tight. I never wanted to let go.

  “Just a power outage,” Mom soothed, stroking my hair. Her fingers loosely combed it, then as deftly as she always had, she tied it back in the hair band permanently attached to her wrist.

  I cuddled into her chest. The wash of her scent, raisin, and cinnamon cookies comforted me. But the screaming wasn’t just me; it was outside.

  “Is that the TV?” I asked. “Next door?”

  So much noise.

  “I don’t think so, sounds too close. Too—”

  More screaming and loud bangs. Fireworks? No, that wasn’t right.

  “Mom?”

  “It’s just a power cut,” she repeated. “It will be okay. It will be back on soon.”

  Mom’s voice sounded weird. Her arms squeezed me tighter than normal. She was doing that thing grown-ups do when they pretend everything’s fine.

  We waited—

  —and waited.

  Deathy silence.

  We waited even more.

  Nothing, I let out a sigh of relief, but the power didn’t come back on.

  “Been a while since the power has been out this long,” Mom said. “If it stays out a while longer, your father might come home early?”

  She was trying to make me feel better, but it didn’t work. “I’m ten, not stupid,” I said, then regretted it. “He’s needed at work.” Mom’s face scrunched up weird. It was too dark to see much, but I could tell from the tiny bit of light from my curtains. She looked different—not like normal Mom at all.

  “I know,” Mom said and faked a laugh. “Worth a try, right?”

  Dad worked at our general hospital. He was always there, and people always relied on him. In this kind of emergency, it would be even worse. Mom knew that just as much as I did.

  We sat in silence for quite a while. The lights never came back on, and the sounds outside didn’t get any better either. Mom tried to settle me back in bed, but my brother woke up and started crying. He was still just a baby, after all. It was okay that my parents called him that, but heaven forbid I say it.

  “I’ll bring him in here. We can sleep with you,” she said, returning to the door.

  “Don’t go,” I begged. Tears streamed down my cheeks. But I knew she had to. She couldn’t leave him upset, either. It wasn’t fair.

  Reece was a fussy kid. I was honestly a little surprised he’d never woken up before now, and hearing my mom softly cooing to him while I sat there kind of stung.

  I hated when she did that. It made my stomach feel all twisty inside. But I loved him too. How could anyone not? He was always too cute with his big eyes and the way he got into everything.

  I slid out of bed and went to my curtains. Sneaking behind them, I could see the double doors out onto my small patio. Although this house was big, someone always locked the doors. I only had access to a fire window, and Mom told me never to open it fully.

  Sheer darkness spread before me. There wasn’t a light on, not anywhere.

  A bright light lit my eyes. I tried to close them, but it wouldn’t go away.

  SYSTEM INITIATING

  Your mission - Survive Initiation.

  Do you accept?

  Y/N

  What was this? I tried to shove it away.

  This was like one of my video games, except I couldn’t turn it off. Dad always said being strong was important. That’s what “survival of the fittest” meant—even if I was small, I was tough.

  “Mom!” I screamed.

  Across the street, the curtains were closed, but I could make out a faint light. Mom had some candles somewhere.

  Without thinking anymore, I shouted yes at the stupid screen and ran for the kitchen to find the tea lights.

  By the time I returned with the small bag and a lighter. Mom was sitting on my bed with Reece. “Thanks, Cerys,” she said.

  Mom wasn’t focused on me. She was staring into my brother’s eyes; I saw they were grey, glazed over. “Reece,” Mom said softly. “You can say yes, right?”

  Reece just didn’t understand what she was saying to him at all. But the more I heard Mom try, the more I knew Reece was going to say no at any second.

  “Mom!” I snapped. “Light the candles. I’ve got him.”

  Mom turned away from us to the candles, and I scooped my not so little brother into my arms. He was getting heavy now, but I cuddled him, and he cuddled back.

  In the corner of my view words flashed:-

  Thirty Seconds

  “How about we chase those noises away with some cookies, right?” I teased.

  His eyes, though glazed, went wider.

  “Hurry Cerys,” Mom said.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Twenty-Five Seconds

  “You know I’ve got cookies hidden. Shall we go get some?”

  Twenty Seconds

  “Coo-cookies,” he said.

  “You want cookies?”

  Fifteen Seconds

  “Y-yes,” he said. “Cookies, yes!”

  Reece’s eyes returned to normal, and I let out a breath.

  “What would have happened if he’d said no?”

  “I snuck out to try to see what was going on. Lila was screaming at Bryce to say yes, but—you know how—” We all knew how awful he was. Lila and Bryce had screaming matches every night for him to go inside. Mom continued, bumbling her words together, “He’d said no—” Mom was sobbing now, sucking in huge breaths. I wanted to hug her but Reece had my full attention. “He—he turned to dust in front of the both of us.”

  “He turned to dust?”

  Mom was crying so hard her shoulders shook. I’d never seen her like this before. Adults weren’t supposed to cry like that. It made my tummy feel sick.

  Her hands shook as she carried on to light several other small tealights. “I don’t know, yes, I don’t know.”

  “Mom?”

  The light spread eerily around my room, and I picked up my iPad to see if there was anything on it: the news, social media, anything.

  Nothing.

  “No internet?” I asked.

  “It’s connected to the Wi-Fi,” she reminded me. “No electricity.”

  “No cell service?” I asked, hoping there might be.

  Mom pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen a few times. “I can’t get anything on my phone either.”

  “That’s dumb,” I muttered. “How are we supposed to know what’s happening?” I hated not knowing things. Dad always had answers for everything.

  Ugh, I put the iPad back down and sat next to her, pulling the blankets over my legs.

  Mom made sure we were all tucked in together. I knew I was safe. I felt it.

  Though I saw her try her phone a few more times, the light illuminating the room eerily, she never spoke, she never got through to anyone.

  Eventually, I drifted away, and sleep took me.

  ***

  It was the yelling that woke me later. Reece started soon after. He was just the right age to be a total mess, not old enough to understand things, not young enough to just soothe back to sleep.

  A loud gunshot rang out. Everything went quiet, at least for a moment. Then screams, many, many more screams.

  My mom was up and, placing Reece on the bed next to me, whispered. “Try to keep him quiet. I’ll be right back.”

  I pulled my brother to me and cuddled him into my chest. “Reecie, shhh, mom’s coming right back.”

  The noise outside drowned Reece out as he cried again. I tried my best, rocking him back and forth, but I couldn’t console him.

  A gigantic roar shook our house.

  More gunfire.

  Shouting. Screaming

  I closed my eyes. I wanted to put my hands over my ears.

  So, I did.

  “Please stop, please stop!” I whispered.

  The screaming didn’t stop.

  The house shook even more, electricity flickered off and on again, then off.

  Then, I was scooped up into powerful arms. The smell of aftershave and…. Blood?

  “Dad?”

  I felt his arms tighten around me, and his hand settled on my head. “Keep your eyes closed, baby.”

  “I’m not a baby,” I muttered. A blanket covered me and my head. I couldn’t see even if I wanted to.

  We were moving, then Dad was running.

  The screams and noise were horrendous—

  —and I wanted to scream with them.

  So, scream, I did—

  —Just like I was screaming right now.

  Dad had eventually stopped running, and I heard Mom soothing Reece.

  But they didn’t stop walking. The night turned into day, and there was bubbling water beside us. I could see it and hear it.

  It was still dark, but there were streetlights attempting to light our way. Cars were whizzing past at incredible speeds. “We’re not safe on this road,” Mom said.

  “I know, just a while longer,” Dad replied.

  I stole a glance behind; it was the only way I was facing after all. Burning buildings, smoke everywhere.

  Then Mom screamed, and Dad almost dropped me.

  “What’s in the bag?” a gruff male voice asked him.

  “My kids’ school clothes,” he said, his voice calm.

  Why was Dad lying? My school clothes were in my drawer at home. I’d never seen that bag before.

  “Drop the kid,” the man said, and I heard a click.

  “I need to pee, dad…” I moaned in his ear. The man had a gun and was obviously not afraid to threaten us with it.

  “Shh,” Dad soothed. He tucked the blanket tighter around me but lowered me to the ground. I clung to him, but he pushed me to the side where I could see Mom and Reece. “Go,” he whispered.

  I ran to Mom, and she scooped me up like I weighed nothing. Reece on one arm, me on her other hip. “Mom, I really need to pee,” I said.

  “Throw me the bag,” the man said.

  There was no blanket covering me now, and I could see. See exactly what was stalking behind the man with the gun. Dad hadn’t moved at all.

  It wasn’t an elephant; it was too small, but it wasn’t anything else I recognized. A thick mouth opened with a thousand teeth.

  Mom let out a little gasp. I wanted to scream but my voice got stuck in my throat. The monster looked like something from my worst nightmares.

  But then we saw it, Dad held out his hand, four fingers.

  He was waiting.

  Three fingers.

  Waiting for the creature to strike.

  Two fingers.

  Mom dropped me to the floor once more but held my hand tight.

  In that split second, the creature attacked its large jaws clamping down onto the man, his gun went off, the loud boom deafening, but not as deafening as his screams or as mom tried to drag me away.

  Dad lunged for the man, ripping the gun from his hands as he tried to slap the creature off him.

  “Kill it! Kill it, what the fuck are you waiting for!” The man screamed.

  Mom had frozen on the spot, and I clung to her.

  Dad turned the gun on the creature and shot it point blank in the head.

  The man dropped with the creature, screaming and clutching at his gaping wound.

  A soft glow spread around my father who held his hands up as if he saw something else we couldn’t.

  Dad was just standing there with the gun, staring at the monster and the man like he was watching TV. But this wasn’t TV. This was real and gross and scary.

  I saw him about to go for his bag.

  But I also saw more of those creatures.

  “Dad!”

  Dad looked at us, then to what was coming for us. He shook himself, and then was with us, and he was running again. This time I ran with them.

  “Take the next road,” I said to him as our pacing slowed.

  “What?”

  “We need off the main roads, if you take the next left, we’re heading out… a companion road.”

  Dad scooped me up. “How’d you get so smart?”

  “The internet,” I said, and it made him laugh.

  “I still need to pee,” I complained.

  “Shit,” he led us off to the side of the road. Then I kept watch. Mom helped me, and made Reece go too, even though he protested with a, “don’t wanna.”

  We did take the next left road, and then without cars and signs of anything else, we just walked.

  “Where are we going?” Mom asked him.

  “I don’t know. If we keep walking, we might make it to the outer city by morning. Maybe head to Blakes cabin, in Aker’s Valley?”

  “Why don’t we stay in the city?” I asked.

  “News, radio says too,” Dad agreed.

  “But?” Mom asked.

  “When the shit’s hitting the fan this much, you’re better out of heavily populated areas.”

  Mom nodded and wrapped Reece up tight to her as a light rain started.

  Dad tucked me back in the blanket, and his scent and warmth made me sleepy. I tried to stay awake, but my eyes kept getting heavy. I wanted to know what the grown-ups were saying.

  “Can you get anything on your phone?” he asked.

  “There’s some news reports,” she replied, and I could see the light of her phone. “Monsters appeared and attacked the city everywhere.”

  “No ideas as to what all this is?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “What’s in the bag?”

  “What?”

  “Your bag, what’s in it?”

  “Medical supplies,” he admitted.

  “You stole it…”

  “Borrowed,” he scolded.

  I didn’t hear anything else.

  ***

  When Dad eventually moved enough to wake me, I slid down to open my eyes to the morning sun.

  “We can stay here for a while,” Dad said and eased me to the ground. I looked up at him, still in his hospital scrubs.

  He put a large rucksack down behind him and sat on a small rock, breathing fast but slowing. “Come here,” he said and patted his knee.

  I would never refuse him.

  When I looked at Dad’s face, his eyes were all serious and dark. That was his “we need to talk” face. The one he used when I was in trouble or when something bad happened.

  “I’m going to be blunt.”

  “Alfie,” mom begged.

  “This isn’t going away,” he said. “Did you not see what was on our street? Did you not see what attacked that gunman?”

  Mom’s face fell. “Alfie, she’s too young.”

  “Cerys, you’re not too young.” He pulled me to look at him and simply said. “I need you to be brave. I need you to promise me you’ll always be brave.”

  “I will,” I said. I wanted to cry like Mom was doing. My chin wobbled a little, but I bit my lip hard. I wasn’t going to be a baby. “I promise, like always.”

  “I can’t hide you all the time.” His face was so unmoving, so real. He meant every word. “If I tell you to run. You run. If I tell you to hide. You hide.”

  I nodded, a cold feeling spreading from my tummy all the way to my fingers and toes. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I really don’t know.”

  “Those boxes?” I didn’t understand any of it. “What if I’d said no?”

  “I am glad Reece likes cookies.” Mom cuddled him tighter. “Bryce said no—” she was saying almost her eact words from earlier. “He—he turned to dust in front of the both of us.”

  “They did the same at the hospital.” My father confirmed. “People didn’t know what it was and said no. They disintegrated right in front of me.”

  “What do we do?” Mom asked.

  “Chaos will spread further and further. Electricity’s off then on again. We need to hide. This isn’t the end.”

  “You don’t know that,” Mom said.

  “You think what we saw was a joke?” Dad asked, his tone harsh, so harsh. “Those creatures in our streets were killing people.”

  Dad’s voice was super loud. I’d never heard him yell at Mom like that before. It made me want to hide.

  Mom curled into herself and cuddled Reece even more.

  “Something happened when I killed that creature,” Dad said.

  “What?”

  “I got another box. It said—First Kill—You have killed a Macrodite. XP awarded. It said I would likely survive Initialization.”

  “Like my video games?” I asked.

  Dad nodded. “I feel so dumb for saying it, but yes.”

  “Blakes Cabin it is then?” Mom asked.

  “For now, yes.”

  My Dad took my hand in his, taking my full attention once more. “We’re going to follow the river for a long while. It will take us into the country. You liked the county, right?”

  I nodded again at him.

  “Then we’re going to stay there for a while, at my boss’s old place. We were there last summer if you recall.”

  I did. The lake there was amazing. There were fish and canoes. I smiled then, remembering the rope swing and the tadpoles I’d caught. Dad had let me stay up late to toast marshmallows. It had good memories.

  “Cerys,” he said. “We’re staying there. Until this initialization is over. Then we need to see what’s going on back at home.”

  “More monsters?” I asked, not really expecting him to answer.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I hope not,” he tried to smile, but there were deep frowns on his forehead.

  I could tell he was lying to make me feel better. Grown-ups did that a lot. I wasn’t a baby. I knew we’d see the monsters again—the ones with all those teeth that came right out of my nightmares.