The Apocalypse Seven

by Gene Doucette

  “Hurricane?” Carol asked.

  “Possibly,” Ananda said. “How did you know?”

  “Not my first,” Carol said. “I can feel it in my ears.”

  “A hurricane?” Bethany asked. “How cool. I missed the tornado.”

  Carol laughed and patted her on the arm. “I hope you still think so after this one’s over,” she said.

  Ananda led them back inside and made doubly sure the door was closed and bolted.

  Win, looking red-faced from the exertion of sprinting down the halls, ran up just then. “Oh, good, you found them,” she said. “I sealed up the Mass Ave. side. Should we worry about the wolf den?”

  “Yes,” Carol said.

  “I don’t know how,” Ananda said. “Closing their outer door will just make them angry. They should know what to do in a storm on their own.”

  “All right,” Win said, “I’m going to—”

  Ananda grabbed her arm. “Wait,” she said, with some measure of alarm.

  Ananda pulled something from her pocket, looked down at it for several seconds, and then sighed grandly.

  “Of course,” she said. “Why not now?”

  The device Noah gave her was vibrating gently in her hand. The light was solid red.

  “Oh crap,” Bethany said.

  “Fantastic,” Ananda said.

  “What is it?” Carol asked. “Is it time?”

  “It’s time,” Ananda said. “All right, new plan. Win, the boys are on the roof. Find them and meet us at the device. Hopefully this will be over before the full force of the storm hits.”

  “What about Paul?” Bethany asked.

  “He’s corralling Elton,” Win said.

  “I’ll go get him,” Bethany said. “Someone should, right?”

  “Bethany, he doesn’t want to do this,” Carol said.

  “He didn’t before, but now it’s happening. We have to tell him.”

  She looked to each of them for affirmation, but didn’t see any. Bethany couldn’t understand why. Sure, Paul was being stupid, but that was before. He’d change his mind when he had to. She was certain of it.

  “He should know,” Bethany added.

  Ananda sighed.

  “Try,” she said. “But get to the site as soon as you can.”

  Robbie

  “Wow, this looks like it’s going to be bad,” Touré said.

  He was standing entirely too close to the edge of the roof for Robbie’s personal comfort. “Hey, back up, man,” Robbie said.

  Just then, a strong gust caught the solar cell Touré was holding and carried him backwards a couple of feet.

  “Noted,” he said. “This came out of nowhere, huh?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been through a lot of hurricanes.”

  Robbie unplugged the back of the second solar array, and—​with heavy work gloves—​began taking the panels down and putting them on the rooftop. The panels weren’t as heavy as they looked and made excellent sails, but they were hot. They both had this down to a science, though; they’d already cleared one rooftop of solar panels, with only one more to follow.

  “I mean,” Robbie continued, “usually we know they’re coming a few days in advance, so it’s not dropping in on us from out of nowhere. Maybe hurricanes always go like this: It’s really nice, and then it’s not.”

  “That’s if it’s a hurricane. Ananda wasn’t sure.”

  “Ananda doesn’t say anything with certainty. It’s part of her nature. You must have noticed that by now.”

  A new gust hit Robbie from an entirely different direction and carried with it a whiff of moisture.

  “After this is over,” Touré said, “step one is to figure out how to rivet the panel array to the roof so we don’t have to do this again. Step two, figure out how to make a solar panel from scratch so we don’t have to do this again.”

  Robbie laughed. “Deal,” he said.

  Win turned up in the doorway on the other side of the roof.

  “Oh, here’s some help,” Touré said. “You need gloves!” he shouted to Win. “They’re really hot.”

  “Hey!” Win said, waving.

  “Hey, you here to help?” Robbie asked.

  “No, we’re out of time,” she shouted. “World’s ending—​we have to get in position.”

  “Red light?” Touré asked.

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Now?” Robbie said. “In the middle of a hurricane?”

  “The end of the world doesn’t get canceled by rain, Robbie,” Win said. “C’mon. If we’re still alive in a couple of hours, we’ll take down the rest of the panels.”

  Bethany

  Bethany ran through the castle and out the other side and onto Vassar, reasoning that the Vassar exit was the closest to the street, and thus the most likely one Paul would have used when coming from their rooms.

  She remembered Ananda’s description of her first few weeks alone in the castle, afraid to leave even to walk to the corner. It was the same fear that had kept them in the dorm so long: Animals were running wild all over the place, and nobody knew why. Bethany used to think that all of the people had been killed by the animals, which, in hindsight, was a much nicer conclusion.

  Now there were hardly any animals walking around. That was partly because Win and Paul began hunting in their own neighborhood by day, to complement the wolves’ hunting by night, but also because there was a hurricane coming and every sane creature had long since taken shelter.

  She took a chance and turned left, heading for Mass Ave. Bethany hardly knew Elton at all, but it was a long straightaway; if she were a horse, she might find that appealing. She wasn’t tracking Elton exactly—​she was tracking the guy tracking Elton—​but it still felt right.

  At the corner, an aggravated raccoon hissed at her. She ignored it, turned—​

  And ran into a swarm of lights.

  The shimmer had been getting angrier and angrier with each passing encounter. She’d hated the shimmer even before Noah told them that it was something that wanted to hurt her. Once she did know it, the light show triggered a panic she couldn’t really control.

  What got her through it was that the red light wasn’t on yet. As long as that remained true—​if Noah was to be believed—​the shimmer wasn’t ready to kill her.

  But now the light was on.

  “Noooo!” she screamed.

  She spun around to run away from the lights—​as if they could be outrun—​but only made it a couple of steps before her foot caught in a crack in the street. It stayed where it was while the rest of her kept going.

  Pain shot up her right leg. She shrieked, landed hard on the pavement, and skidded a couple of feet before stopping.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” she cried, clutching her ankle, and rolling onto her back.

  The shimmer was right above her now, and if it could be said to be glaring menacingly, then that was what it was doing.

  “Not. Yet!” she said, through clenched teeth.

  Then she drew the gun Paul had given her and shot at the lights. Predictably, it did exactly nothing, but she sure felt better. The shimmer continued to hover as if to convey its rage. Bethany was certain she was about to die.

  “Hey! You okay, kid?”

  Paul ran over, waving his way through the lights like he was swatting at a cloud of gnats. He knelt down next to Bethany and pushed aside the weapon before he got shot by mistake.

  Elton, having been successfully retrieved, sauntered up behind him. He looked somewhere in the middle of confused and indifferent.

  Either in direct response to Paul’s arrival or just as a matter of coincidence, the shimmer evaporated rather than opting to murder them.

  Did we scare it off? Bethany wondered.

  Then she started crying, which was not at all cool. Of the few remaining role models she had to compare herself to, she thought Win was the best pick, and Win definitely would not have started crying under these circumstances.


  “It’s okay,” Paul said. He sat down next to her and gave her a hug. “You’re fine. It’s scary, but you know, it’s just a light show.”

  Win also wouldn’t need a hug. Bethany did, though.

  “It’s not,” she said, getting Paul’s shoulder wet. “It’s here to kill us. You heard.”

  “I know what we were told.”

  “No, but, Paul . . . you don’t understand. It’s happening now.The red light came on. I was looking for you so I could tell you.”

  “Oh.”

  He pulled back from the hug. Bethany wiped her eyes dry with the back of a scraped-up hand.

  “I thought this was it,” she said. “I thought we were too late and this was it.”

  “Well, it’s not,” he said. “You’re fine. We’re both fine.”

  “But it’s about to be too late! We have to get to the site. You heard me, right? The red light came on.”

  “I did hear you,” he said. “And I already told all of you I’m not participating in this.”

  He stood, brushed himself off, and took hold of Elton’s lead rope.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “I promise you that. Now, I have to get Elton inside before the weather turns. Already feels like rain.”

  “Paul,” she said, tears welling up again. “Please.”

  He shook his head slowly.

  “Bethany, I’m sorry, I really am. I just can’t agree to this. But I wish you all the best of luck.”

  He turned and started down Mass Ave. The horse, seemingly aware of the oncoming weather conditions, looked eager to go.

  “Paul!” she shouted.

  He stopped, and looked back. “I told you . . .” he began.

  “I can’t move my foot,” she said. “I think my ankle’s broken.”

  “Then we’ll have to get you inside,” he said.

  “That’s not where I need to be.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please, Paul.”

  He hung his head and sighed. His lips were moving; a quiet prayer, maybe.

  “All right,” he said. “I will bring you there. But I’m not staying.”

  Robbie

  Robbie, Touré, and Win reached the construction site at around the same time it started raining. Ananda and Carol were already there.

  They’d already cut away the fence meant to keep them out of the site and installed a wood ramp to climb down. This was done before they met Noah, so Ananda could study the device without risking a broken leg, but was very convenient on this occasion, at the front end of a hurricane.

  “Where’s Bethany?” Robbie asked. They almost had to shout to be heard over the wind.

  “She went to find Paul,” Ananda said.

  “And you let her?”

  “Couldn’t stop her. She’ll be here.”

  “I hope so.”

  Lightning bolts were dancing across the top of the sky. Robbie couldn’t think of a worse place to be standing than in the middle of an open plot next to a possibly metal object.

  “Great timing,” he said.

  “That’s what I thought too,” Ananda said.

  The shimmer manifested over the device. Robbie at first thought he was looking at more distant lightning before his eyes adjusted and he realized what he was seeing.

  “Here we go,” Touré said.

  “Bethany should be here by now,” Robbie said. “Should we go find her?”

  “There’s no time,” Carol said. “We have to trust she’ll make it here.”

  Just then, Paul rode up on Elton with Bethany in the saddle in front of him.

  “We’re here!” she shouted.

  “You’re late,” Robbie said.

  “Yeah, I broke my ankle and had to hitch,” Bethany said.

  Paul hopped off Elton’s back, then turned and helped Bethany down. Then he sat her next to the fence and waved to the others.

  “Far as I go,” he said. “Good luck to all of you.”

  “Wait, I have to get down there!” Bethany said, pointing to the other side of the fence.

  “Yeah, all right, all right,” Paul said.

  He stepped away from Elton, knelt down, and scooped her up like she were a child. The opening in the fence was barely large enough for him to make it through, but he managed it.

  As soon as he stepped off the wood ramp and touched the dirt on the inside of the fence, the overhead swarm’s demeanor seemed to change.

  The only way to describe it was attack mode.

  It dove at Paul first, knifelike, shooting itself straight through the man’s head. The pastor was uninjured by this, but was visibly startled. It was too late, by then, for him to go anywhere; he was part of this now whether he liked it or not. Robbie could see him coming to that conclusion in the subtle change of his expression.

  The shimmer swung around and enveloped Carol next, and then Robbie. Then Bethany. She buried her face in Paul’s chest.

  “Stop it!” she screamed.

  “Noah!” Robbie shouted, at the absent alien he hoped was listening. “Now would be a good time to get your machine going!”

  Around and around the shimmer went, above Ananda and through Win, expanding and contracting. It was a cloud that surrounded them, and a blade that sliced through them. But even though its frantic motion now seemed coupled with the drastic winds and increasingly heavy rains, the shimmer still wasn’t doing them any direct harm.

  Suddenly, and with a loud clang, the round hat on top of Noah’s device popped up a couple of inches—​

  And the swarm instantly calmed down.

  “What’s happening?” Carol asked. She was squeezing Robbie’s hand tightly.

  “I think Noah’s roach motel has gone active,” Robbie said.

  A second swarm of lights manifested. Robbie’s eyes might have been playing tricks on him, because while it seemed like what happened was that the single shimmer split in two, it also looked like the second swarm emerged from Noah’s device. But that didn’t make any sense. Both things couldn’t be true.

  A distinct pair now, the two shimmers took turns, stopping in front of each member of the Apocalypse Seven, coalescing into a humanoid shape of roughly the same height, and then moving on. It looked, weirdly, like it was taking portraits of each of them.

  “Any idea what’s happening?” Win asked.

  “Not me,” Touré said. “But they’re not trying to kill us, so I’m cool with it.”

  And then the lights fizzled, as if the rain shorted them out and the winds carried them off.

  Nobody could breathe for a bit. They just stood there, listening to the wind and feeling the rain on their faces, waiting for another shoe to drop.

  Paul lowered Bethany to the ground; she sat down on the board and winced at an ankle that was already starting to swell.

  “So?” Paul asked. “Is that it?”

  Robbie let go of Carol’s hand and circled the device, looking for evidence of renewed hostilities. There was nothing but the wind and the rain.

  It’s over,he thought.

  “Guys, I think we did it,” Robbie said. “I think we’re safe.”

  “I think you’re right!” Touré said.

  Then everyone was hugging someone: Win and Touré and Ananda, Carol, and Robbie. Bethany hugged Paul’s leg, while Paul looked like someone trying to fight back a grin.

  A pinhole of shadow opened up next to the device, which grew into a human-sized bit of darkness. Noah stepped forth from it.

  “It worked!” Noah said. “That’s fantastic! Great job, everyone.”

  “Thanks, man!” Touré said.

  “You too!” Robbie said. “Your device worked!” He stepped away from Carol and shook Noah’s hand—​it felt cold and rubbery—​before committing to a quick hug of the alien being who’d just saved their lives. “So what happens now?” Robbie asked.

  “Now I think you guys better go inside before the storm gets any worse,” Noah said. “Looks like a bad one. I’m going to take this and park
it on the other side of the galaxy before the creature escapes.”

  “Yeah, do that,” Robbie said. “Before it escapes. How long do you have?”

  “What do you mean?” Noah asked.

  “You said you don’t think you can hold it forever,” Robbie said. “I’m wondering how long you think it’ll be. Like next week? Or a thousand years? How long are we talking about?”

  “We have to plan ahead,” Touré said. “For the next apocalypse.”

  “Oh, sure,” Noah said. “I’m not positive. I just figured out how to get it to work right. A little while, but I have to run some integrity tests. Don’t you guys worry either way. I’ll take care of it.”

  Noah put his hand on the device’s top cap. Then Paul stepped forward.

  “No,” Paul said.

  He had his shotgun out.

  “Paul, what are you doing?” Robbie said, instinctively stepping between Paul and Noah. “We won. It’s over.”

  “No,” Paul repeated. “Step out of the way, kid.”

  “Paul—”

  “Rob, you have to step aside,” Paul said. “I’m very serious.”

  Robbie took three steps to his left, exposing Noah to a shot he was certain Paul wouldn’t take. This was too crazy, even for him.

  “Paul, come on,” Noah said. “I know we have some differences, but we won! You guys are good now.”

  “No, you’re not done answering questions,” Paul said.

  “The sooner he gets that thing away from here, the better,” Ananda said.

  “Nanda, stay out of it.”

  “I really have to go,” Noah said.

  Noah raised his right arm, meaning to activate his teleportation device.

  “Not yet,” Paul said. Then he shot the extraterrestrial roach motel out of Noah’s hands. It clattered to the ground a few feet away.

  Noah jumped backwards.

  “Are you crazy?” Noah shouted. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? If that exploded—”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Paul said, “until you answer Robbie’s question truthfully. How long until it escapes?”

  “Paul, he doesn’t know,” Ananda said.

  “You’re not using your head, Nanda. He knows. I do too, but I want to hear it from him. How long, Noah?”