And then the world erupted.
A roaring explosion punched him backward, slamming him to the ground. Debris rained over him—splinters, gravel, biting flecks of glass. The breath tore out of his lungs in a violent rush. Darkness swallowed him, ears screaming with a high-pitched whine that drowned the world. Seconds stretched, blurred. Then consciousness slammed back, sharp and sickening. He rolled to his side, coughing, his shoulder screaming in protest as he pushed onto hands and knees. Dust coated his face. Something warm trickled from his temple. His vision swam, head pounding, but he forced himself forward, crawling over jagged debris he barely felt.
“Sarah!” he shouted, voice muffled and distant as though underwater.
The scene before him was chaos—the house—torn to pieces, smoke, broken glass, splintered wood littering everything. His eyes landed on a figure sprawled motionless on the lawn, horribly still.
“No. Oh, god, no—Sarah!”
He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled to her side, dropping down beside her limp form. Her eyes stared blankly upward, empty and unseeing. Her radio lay shattered beside her, its twisted metal glinting in the wavering firelight. He reached toward her instinctively, then stopped, his hand shaking. Nothing could be done. Not now.
Daniel bowed his head, the smoke stinging his eyes. His voice broke as he whispered, “I heard you, Sarah. I was coming.” He sobbed once, then lifted his head, heart slamming against his ribs. Fire bloomed behind shattered windows—curtains ablaze, flames licking hungrily up the dining room walls.The blast must’ve ruptured something—gas line, maybe.
Flames were already chewing through the dining room. Adrenaline surged again.
Colin! Joshua! They’re still inside!
Stumbling to his feet, Daniel lunged toward the burning house, shouting their names into the choking smoke.
Colin
Upstairs, Colin stirred. He was dreaming about rain. The soft kind, tapping the windows, wrapping the house in a gentle hush. Joshua’s breathing beside him was deep, steady. A peaceful night.
Then a scream ripped through the quiet—raw, urgent—his name.
A woman’s voice.Sarah.Desperate. Frenzied. But real.
Colin gasped, heart hammering, eyes snapping open as he jolted upright?—
And then the world ended.
A thunderclap tore through the night—no,notthunder. Louder. Closer.Wrong.
He barely had time to suck in a terrified inhale before the blast hit. A white-hot flash burned behind his eyelids, and a pressure wave slammed into his chest, stealing his breath, followed by the concussive thud of shattering glass and heat so sudden it didn’t feel like heat at all—just pressure and pain. The air filled with dust, pain, noise—roaring, deafening, relentless noise.
He fought to remain conscious. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’tsee.
“Josh!”
His own voice sounded far away—dull, echoing, lost beneath the terrible whine clawing at his ears.
“Joshua!”
Something warm trickled down his temple, and his cop instincts kicked in.Glass,he thought.Glass from the windows. A bomb!The room lurched sideways, warped, and unfamiliar. Debris rained down, and through the wreckage, he caught a horrifying glimpse of the night sky.
He wheeled toward Joshua, desperately searching, hands scrabbling over the bed. “JOSH!”
Then, he heard it. Just barely. As though his ears were a million miles away. A muffled cough.
“Colin?” The word reached him as though underwater. Dull. Terrified. Butalive.
His hands moved across the bed, fingers brushing broken glass, jagged debris, pieces of wood, reaching toward the sound as smoke filled his throat. His hand found Joshua’s—warm, trembling, gripping him like a lifeline.
“I’ve got you,” Colin whispered, voice raw with smoke and fear. “I’ve got you!”
He didn’t know if the house still stood. He didn’t care. As long as Joshua was breathing, the world hadn’t ended after all.
Joshua
