By the time they got to the country house, the sky had already brightened with the first morning light.


    The ride over I-90 and I-94 had turned out to be better that he''d expected. Most people had decided not to risk the chaos and stayed home, waiting for evacuation. The traffic on the highway was about the same as on any ordinary day. The only difference was military vehicles rumbling past now and then and a couple of nasty accidents on the road with totaled and tipped over cars.


    Jack hadn''t stopped for any of them. Stopping even for a short time was too risky. He promised Susan he''d bring them out of this chaos and he was going to keep his word.


    From time to time, he saw helicopters and fighter jets dashing through the sky in different directions and saw flashes of distant explosions. The country was at war and Jack wanted to get away as far away from it as possible. At least, for the time being. He knew that the country house in Stenesville wouldn''t provide them a long-term shelter, but it could serve a good starting point before the situation got clear and they decided what to do next.


    He drove the car behind the house, turning off the engine as soon as the trees hid them. Even in the countryside, it was better to stay out of sight. The sudden silence fell heavily. Susan stirred, lifting her head from the headrest, looking around, confused. She and Lisa had drifted off asleep not long after they''d hit the highway.


    "We arrived," she said in a raspy voice.


    "Yeah," Jack looked back at her. The headrest had left creases across the right side of her face.


    "How did you sleep?"


    "I don''t remember how I drifted off, so, I guess, well," she paused and then asked, "How was the driving?"


    Jack shrugged. "Not bad. It was quiet."


    He didn''t tell her about the accidents and fighter jets—she''d had enough scare during the night.


    Jack shifted his gaze to Lisa. "Just look at her," he said. The kid must have unbuckled herself, because now she lay curled in her seat like a cat, resting her little head on Susan''s hips. The nightmare they''d endured the previous night left a deep shadow on her face.


    "I''ll take her. Open the back door, would you?" he passed Susan the keychain from his pocket and stepped out of the car.


    He opened the door on Lisa''s side and carefully took her in his arms. He couldn''t remember when was the last time he had to carry her like that—perhaps, years ago—but it felt natural, as if fathers were born to do exactly that.


    As he started walking toward the house, Lisa stirred and opened her eyes.


    "Dad?" she rubbed her eyes. "What are you doing?"


    "Hush. Sleep."


    She dangled her legs. "Dad, I''m okay. Put me down."


    Jack put her down on the gravel. "Let''s go. It''s cold outside."


    They walked toward the porch at the back of the house. In these early hours, the house looked lonely. It had belonged to his parents, and as a kid, Jack had spent summers here, playing in the fields with their dog and fishing by the lake. Even during his college years, he''d come here for semester breaks to help his father fix the roof or remodel the toolshed, which had probably been built in the 1960s and could collapse at any moment.


    After his parents passed away eight years ago, the house had become Jack''s responsibility but had stood empty for most of the year. They would visit during the summer, but these trips were short. He still hadn''t found time to fix the shed, which by now was so fragile a strong wind could knock it over.


    He glanced at the shed, which looked even more forlorn than the house, and promised himself that if they survived this hell, he''d fix it and renovate the house. After all, it was his family legacy, and he had a duty to take care of it—a responsibility he''d conveniently avoided for the past eight years.


    The kitchen smelled of old wood and dampness. When they stepped inside, Susan was already boiling water and wiping the dust off the countertops with a rag. Her face lit up with a warm smile when she saw Lisa on her feet.


    "Hey, darling. How do you feel?"


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Lisa stretched her arms above her head, yawning, and said, "Tired."


    Susan nodded. "I bet. I am going to make some breakfast," she said, rummaging through the cupboards. "You guys want coffee?"


    "Yes!" Lisa and Jack replied in unison.


    The long night had finally caught up with Jack—his eyelids were heavy. He was going to catch up some sleep later, just not yet.


    The house was damp and cold—Octobers in Michigan were still warm, but nights could chill you down to the bone.


    He went outside, picked up five pieces of logwood from the woodshed, and lit a fire in the living room.


    The warmth and cracking from the fireplace filled the room with comfort. For a moment, he felt as if it was just a normal visit to the country house, and after breakfast, they would go for a walk in the woods or relax by the lake. Lisa would skip stones, Susan would read a book, and he''d just sit there watching them.


    "Coffee is ready."


    Susan passed him a cup of steaming black coffee.


    "Thanks." Jack took a sip. The taste of coffee warmed him up, chasing away the fatigue left by the night. Lisa also took a sip from her cup, but winced.


    "Can I get some cream or milk in my coffee?"


    "I am afraid, no, sweetheart," Susan said. "You don''t like it?"


    Lisa shook her head. "It''s bitter."


    "That''s what real coffee tastes like," Jack said, taking another sip. "You''re too used to Starbucks."


    They sat at the dining table, silence hanging in the air for a moment.


    "So, what now?" Susan asked. She sat on the chair, one leg tucked neatly beneath her. The morning sun peaking through the window caressed her face, making her squint when she looked at him.


    "We wait. Can''t tell for how long, but at least before we get a clearer picture. Have you checked our supplies?"


    "Yeah," Susan nodded. "We''ve got plenty of canned food and water in the cellar. So we won''t starve to death."


    "I guess not," Jack agreed and then asked: "You guys still have your phones? I want to check the news, but I think I lost mine on the way here."


    Susan tapped her pockets and shook her head. "I probably left it home. We were leaving so quickly."


    "I got mine," Lisa said, pulling her iPhone from the pocket of her hoodie. "But I don''t have any signal here," she added with a frustrated expression and tossed the phone onto the table, as if blaming it for inconvenience.


    "That''s weird," Jack said, checking Lisa''s phone. The mobile network icon indeed had no bars on it. He furrowed his eyebrows. He''d experienced no issues with the mobile connection at the house.


    "They must have jammed the signal," he said, passing the phone back to Lisa.


    "But why?"


    He shrugged. "To prevent misinformation? I don''t know. Could also be that the nearest tower is damaged, hence, no connection."


    "Can we use that to get the news?" Lisa asked, pointing her finger somewhere behind his back.


    He looked over his shoulder. Behind him, on a mantlepiece, was an old analogue radio.


    "Hey!" he stretched his arm and picked up the device. It was probably there since the 60s, when the house was built, but he''d always just thought of it as furniture.


    "I have totally forgotten," Jack said, rotating the radio in his hands. It felt heavy and sturdy—solid enough to knock out one of those creatures, if it came to it. "How did you know what it was?" he asked Lisa.


    "TikTok," Lisa replied, as if he was asking something obvious.


    "Right," he said. "Could have not asked. I wonder if this thing works."


    He pulled out the power cord from the back of the radio and plugged it into the nearest socket. The radio cracked to life, filling the room with faint hissing. Jack adjusted the radio''s search dial, and a man''s official-sounding voice instantly replaced the static.


    "...remain calm. Repeat, this is an emergency broadcast. The country is under attack from unknown entities. Citizens are advised to remain indoors until further instructions. Avoid contact with the hostile creatures. The evacuation plan will be carried out in stages. Until then, do not leave your home and remain calm. Repeat, this is an emergency..."


    Jack skipped to the next station, but it broadcasted the same message. He cut off the radio and put it back on the mantlepiece.


    "Same stuff everywhere. They''ve probably been running it all night. Seems they don''t really have a plan."


    Susan shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Perhaps we should''ve stayed in Chicago."


    "What makes you say that?"


    She shrugged. "I don''t know. If they evacuate our neighborhood, they''d, at least, find us home. Here? Nobody knows about us. We''re on our own. What happens when we run out of food and water?"


    Jack reached over the table and took her hand in his own. "The keyword here is ''if''," he said, stroking Susan''s hand gently. "We don''t know the scale and how much time it''ll take them to evacuate people. And—evacuate where? This," he pointed somewhere outside the window, "seems to happen all around the country, if not the world."


    Susan took her hand back and sighed. "I am scared. At least there, we had other people around us. Here, I feel like the world has disappeared, and we''re the last survivors."


    Jack didn''t reply. What could he say? She could be right—the world might have already disappeared and they could have been the last survivors—figuratively speaking. However, he also understood that remote and natural settings were ideal for surviving the end of the world.


    "How about we stay low a couple of days and then work out our plan? What do you say?" Jack said, leaning back in his chair. He was feeling the fatigue of the night knocking him out.


    "Okay," Susan said, standing up and starting cleaning the table. "Let''s do as you say."


    Despite the fire''s warmth, Jack detected a sudden coldness in her tone. They had had a hell of a night and Susan''s worries were well justified. Was he a hundred percent sure it was a right decision to come here? Hell, no. But he trusted his instincts enough to follow them, and so far, they''d never let him down. He only hoped they wouldn''t let him down this time. Because, now, things were a little—just a little—different and, if he was wrong, they''d all end up dead...


    His eyes were closing on their own. The adrenaline had no longer kept him awake. Without a word, he stood up from the table, strode to the couch in the living room and crashed on it.


    He was fast asleep even before his head touched the pillow.