Apocalypsis 04 - Haven

stood there,” said Jamal. “They’re going to ram us!”
    A flame came out of the middle of the canner group and flew over the fence, landing in the middle of the front sidewalk area and smashing into a lake of fire.
    “Molotov cocktail,” said Jamal. “You awful demons.”
    Several more gasoline bombs followed, but none of them got near us. One landed near the lobby and my fearless buddy Peter opened the door with a shield and sprayed it with an extinguisher before going back inside.
    “Peter is a brave soul,” said Ronald.
    “You have no idea,” I said, so proud of him I could burst.
    “Open the gates!” yelled Gail. “Or we’re going to shoot them!”
    The kids in the huddled group started to run. They split apart at little, but all of them were converging on the spot where we stood.
    “What should we do?!” yelled Ronald.
    “Cover them! That’s all we can do!” I held up the gun and sighted down the barrel. Anytime I saw a kid lifting a weapon, I pulled the trigger.
    Before the treehouse kids got to the fence, two canner kids went down, either by my bullets or someone’s up in the watchtower.
    The first of the treehouse girls to reach us threw herself against the gate. “Please!” she screamed. “Let me in!”
    And then she stiffened and blood came pouring out of her mouth. She choked on it, and it splattered across our face masks.
    “Oh Jesus, Lord,” pleaded Jamal. “Please stop this madness!”
    The second kid to reach the fence tried to climb it. They shot him down in seconds, and he landed with a terrible thump on the ground near our feet.
    When the third kid reached it, I yelled, “Lie down! Don’t climb, don’t stand! Lie down as low as you can!”
    She dropped into the dirt without hesitating and pressed her face into the fence. “Please save me! Please don’t let them kill me!”
    Peter came charging out of the front door, shield out front and keys in hand.
    “Peter get back inside!” I screamed.
    “No! We have to let her in!”
    The diesel engine was getting louder.
    Rain began to come down in buckets.
    We went from cowering under a darkened sky to drowning in a deluge seconds later.
    The keys slipped out of Peter’s grasp.
    Ronald put his shield on the ground and bent down, getting as close to the fence as he could. He reached under the heavy protection and through the chain links, taking the desperate girl’s hand in his. “Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” Together they recited the Lord’s prayer while Jamal and I covered Peter opening the gate.
    “The tank is coming!” said Jamal, practically crying. “Get her in here before it smashes us! We have to get inside!”
    More shots were fired in the back, and then some from what sounded like inside the lobby.
    I turned sharply to see if I was just hearing things and saw a flash of light from behind the glass.
    “Someone’s inside!” I yelled over the sound of the rain. “Winky’s in there!”
    Fohi’s voice came out over the bull horn again.
    “Heh, heh, heh … better run canners. You too, Gail, you greasy haired, beady eyed redneck dumbass. Triple Bar D’s all up in your asses! Wooo hooo!!”
    It was the next flash of lightning that finally made Fohi’s nonsense come together for me.
    I saw the grill of the truck headed our way.
    It was bashed up and dented like it had been in a smash-em-up derby, and it was headed right for the crowd of canners at the gate.
    They scattered when they saw it coming.
    Rifles picked them off one at a time as they tried to escape into the night.
    Several disappeared into the darkness on the sides of the truck, missing being run over by mere feet. Some weren’t so lucky. The truck didn’t stop for anyone.
    “Let me out,” I said, frantic I would miss the chance to save some lives. There were still some treehouse kids standing there, and they looked like they were too scared to move.
    “Come to the gate!” I screamed. “Come to the gate! Get out of the way!”
    They couldn’t hear me over the sounds of the rain and the thunder and the truck.
    Fohi’s bullhorn came again.
    “Hey, treehouse kids. You want to get run over or what? Move, move, move! Get to the gate now!”
    They didn’t need to be told twice. Those who could, took off sprinting in our direction. The few who weren’t able to limped along, helping each other as best they could.
    By the time they reached the fence, Peter had the lock undone.
    I dropped my shield and grabbed onto