Around me the familiar houses of my family were ablaze, smoke wafting upwards like dark grey columns of desolation. Almost malevolently the rift in the sky loomed overhead like a sinister smile. I breathed heavily as I heard my heart start beating rapidly in my chest. I clenched my fists and slowly started getting breath in control and started to compile a list in my head. First I needed to get on to the street and away from the raging inferno the street should be safer.

  Unlatching the gate out to the front yard I saw that a power line had completely exploded and was raining bits of fiery shrapnel on the front lawn. Seeing a path forward I broke into a sprint towards the street that was thankfully devoid of debris.

  I stopped as I stood in the middle of the street. The sky was filled with the smoke of burning houses and cars. My eyes stopped at the exception, the imposing manor house of Old Man Welton. It took me a second then I remembered his most bizarre trait: he had a hatred for all things electrical, not amish or anything he just didn’t like electricity. In fact, he still used candles and lamps instead of lightbulbs, and his large pristine green yard was unbothered by the flames. There I saw him nearly seventy years of spite holding a hose spreading it keeping the flames away, that were spreading from a nearby house. I couldn’t stop myself and soon I was running towards the familiar figure.

  “Hey Old Man!” I yelled, relieved that not only was he alright but also that he was here in general.

  A satisfied smile on his features as he recognized me, I used to use a farm scythe to cut his grass for 10 bucks when I was little and I helped out as he aged and lost the ability to lift some of his heavier antiques. "Ah, Hello there, kiddo; nice to see those damnable things got what they deserved, eh?" His voice carried despite the chaos going on around us and I could tell that he was glad I was alright.

  "I'm pretty sure you're alone in that opinion, Old Man," I responded as I slowed down from my run.

  "Eh, you think I give a shit," he said a shit-eating smile on his face, but I knew deep down that he was worried about our neighbors who had yet to show themselves.

  "No, not really; your house is fine?" I responded with a similar shit eating grin on my face, trying to distract myself from the apocalypse scene all around us .

  "Yeah, not a lick of electricity in this house. Imagine yours didn't fare so well?" A rare note of sympathy in his tone that wasn't buried under sarcasm.

  "Yeah, went up into the flames," I said, the sadness boiling over in my voice.

  "Well uh, I got plenty of room, until your father can make his way here." I smiled back at him. Looking back I saw a few people stumbling from their homes dragging their meager belongings and looks of shock as they hadn't processed what was going on. It made for a dreary sight, ash and soot covering their faces looking back as their lives went up in smoke.

  I looked back at the Old Man, and he sighed, "Help me make room on the bottom floor, will ya? I got a small collection of medical supplies, and I have a distinct feeling that emergency services are going to be down for quite some time." He said, making a sweeping motion to his front door. Together me and him walked into the bottom floor of Welton Manor.

  Looking around it looked like we were going to have work cut out for us. His manor had three main stories with a small attic and a basement. It was a big house for one man, but while he came off as a world-class asshat to his neighbors, most knew that if you needed a place to stay and foreswore electronics, you could stay at Old Man Welton's place.

  He and I began with the living room and were moving the furnishings into his basement. The Old Man had a love for antiques and said it made him 'feel not as old’ and has spent his life collecting them from all over the world. It was slow careful work to move them from the first floor to the basement. The stairs were steep and the antiques were heavy for the Old Man.

  As we finished with the last of the antiques in what Welton called the drawing room Welton signaled me to put down the old polished table we were holding slowly, letting it touch the ground. The Old Man rubbed his lower back "I'll tell ya what Kiddo, growing up is a bitch and a half," he said gruffly as he turned in the direction of the front door and slowly walked towards it. Following him, we navigated through his house, eventually we stopped before a closet and the Old Man reached into his pocket and drew out an old bronze key. Slotting it into the door and he opened it revealing a destroyed room with scorch marks and bits of shards littered around the floor.

  “This was the place I stored my gun collection, unfortunately whatever the fuck is happenin’ cause all the ammo to kaboom luckily enough my more valauble pieces were left intact but without ammo we’re out of luck on that front” Welton said I did see that the very edge of the room a display of older guns like you would see in revolutionary war were displayed. However Welton ignored them and reached for a bat, its wood was nice and polished and faded blue lettering ‘Louisville Slugger’. What the system called [Analysis] Caused a small window to appear above the baseball bat.

  ….

  [Louisville Slugger(Copy)]

  Common Blunt Weapon

  Origin: A baseball bat modeled after the original that was made for Browning, a struggling professional Baseball Player who saw great success after using this Bats Predecessor.

  Trait(s): [Slugger]

  …

  [Slugger]

  Item Trait

  Origin: A Baseball bat designed and intended to allow the user to strike far and fast.

  Effect: +5% Blunt Damage(Additive)

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ....

  A somewhat magical baseball bat, neat although I didn't know if this was a new ability that it had just gained or it was something that had already existed.

  “We can talk about all this weird magic fuckery later, but if whatever these screens say it can make you hit harder then take this, it was my first baseball bat it’ll keep you safe kid” Welton stated as I took the club and I nodded.

  “Hey, Mr. Welton, you home?” A voice yelled out from the direction of the front door.

  The Old Man raised his voice "Who's there?" He asked warily a familiar voice responded it was Mr. Johnson, the Museum Curator, a family man. I noticed his voice sounded panicked.

  "Hey… uh Mr. Welton, I noticed your house was intact, and I was wondering if we put some of the injured in there?" He asked with a dash of hope rising in his voice.

  "Already two steps ahead of ya, me and him are moving the furniture to the basement; if you want to help speed things along, that would be great." The Old Man said me and him moved towards the door and he opened it to the face of Mr. Johnson. Soot covered his otherwise bright and cheery face, his button up shirt was ruined and his blonde hair was caked ashy grey, and yet his blue eyes sparkled with hope.

  I watched as a look of relief washed over his face, his eyes started to mine as he spoke again.

  "Oh, I’m glad that you're alright when I didn't see you out there and your house was up in smoke. I thought the worst." He smiled at me before his eyes turned back to the Old Man.

  "Thank you, I think I can round up some muscle to help. Do you have any medical supplies?" He asked before he continued anxiety was readily apparent.

  "Most people only grabbed their personal medicine, suppose that's better in the long run" He said looking back at the street now filled with those that survived.

  Welton scratched his chin in thought "Yeah, I've got a small stash though we should save it for the worst off" he said

  “Great, I'm going to check on the missus and my kid then I’ll help” Mr. Johnson said before turning back towards Mrs. Johnson and halfway there before Mr. Welton asked him something.

  "Is Mrs.Gonzalez home? She used to be a nurse, didn't she?" He asked.

  "No Idea, but good idea I'll look for her." Mr. Johnson before jogging off to his family. Me and Welton moved back to moving furniture and soon enough, a group of ten people were moving the furniture with us. Welton had to stop and help another group led by Miss Gonzalez, a retired nurse, quickly and safely move the injured into the now empty drawing room.

  Most people were fine or only had received minor burns, but some people who had been holding their phones and hadn't noticed that it was smoking and didn't drop weren't doing so great, and some... some didn't make it. Looking around the group of people I looked for my friend Jay. He lived on the other street over from Mulberry and when I saw a group of about ten people from his street and not him I ran up.

  “Hey, where is Jay?” I yelled out to the group as I ran towards them. A familiar face responded but I forgot their name but I had seen them around town.

  “Uh, I don’t know we didn’t check, have you heard anything from the fire department?” they asked and I stopped dead my brain glitching out as it took me a second before I responded.

  “Have you seen any cars left intact? The Volunteers are probably in the same or worse boat then we are and the county is probably grounded with out their fire engines out or they’ve got bigger fish to fry” I said as I was astounded by the lack of observation or critical thinking.

  “Look Kien, I'm sure that this one of their electro pulse thingies won't be long until help comes…” Another of the adults in the group, a part type substitute teacher at my school, said stepping forward.

  “Do you think that a freakin electro magnetic pulse creates something like that!” I said pointing up where the sinister smile of the rift loomed overhead.

  “You know what I need to check on Jay, he could be hurt” I said before taking off and I heard one of them mutter about panicking kids. I sprinted until eventually I got to Jay’s street and I had a glimmer of hope as I saw that his house was no longer on fire, and that his room was mainly intact. Running to his house, I started calling out as loud as I could.

  “Hey, Jay It’s me Kien you okay in there!” I yelled and received no reply. His chainlink fence was locked so I quickly scrambled over and to his back door. Jiggling the handle I realized it was locked and doubling back I grabbed a large rock from his side yard. I threw it through the small window in his back door and carefully unlocked it and walked in. their hoes where the roof had collapsed but I saw his door was open.

  “Jay it's okay I’m here…” I stopped dead at his doorway, his bed was scorched and laying on its remnants I saw the remains of his phone mixed with his head. I felt sick, bile rose up in my mouth and the arid air stung my eyes. I heaved and I stepped back…

  Jay, Jay was dead, I had hung out with him not even yesterday and yet today he… he was dead. The reality of the situation struck me, how many had died… where my dad and brother were okay? How about my other friends? They all lived on the other side of town. I wandered out of the house, my mind blank and before I knew it I was standing outside Welton Manor.

  “Hey, Kien there you are Mr. Jekins said you ran off to find Jay, but where is he.. Oh” Mrs. Johnson was hysterical but as she realized what happened due to the lack of Jay pity entered her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry I know that you and him were close and if you need anything-” I stopped her as I just wanted to do something, something to distract myself from the macabre scene I had just seen.

  “It’s okay Mrs. Johnson I.. I’m going to go help the others..” I said morosely before I went onto busy myself helping the others.

  The following hours were a blur as the Kentucky sun rapidly ran from the east to the west. The survivors of Mulberry and the surrounding neighborhoods had consolidated around Welton Manor. Me, the families with kids, and the elderly, had taken rooms in the actual Manor. Meanwhile the rest had managed to find enough undamaged tents and had begun to construct a small town of tents in Old Man Welton’s lawn and spilling over into the street. The drawing room had become a makeshift hospital with Mrs. Gonzalez taking charge trying to save as many lives as possible with what little we had in the way of medical supplies. It didn’t take long before people started to get hungry; Mr Johnson, alongside Mr Brown, organized search parties to collect food that hadn't burned and to get in contact with the other citizens of Cave City.

  While the search parties were out and about, Old Man Welton pulled me aside from helping set up tents.

  “I heard what happened with your friends, and I just wanted to let you know that… if you have any questions or just want to vent I to understand what's like to stumble across a close friend dead, I’m not great at the emotional stuff but I do understand it” The Old Man said and he had this far-off look. I knew he was a Vietnam vet but he never spoke of his experience and no one dared to ask.

  “Thank you, right now I…” My voice broke as the suppressed emotions bubbled up before I continued.

  “I Just need to focus on something else right now" I said and rather than looking at me in pity the Old Man looked at me with understanding. I moved back to my task of helping settle the remaining groups that staggered in groups having been directed by the scouting parties. Eventually the sun hid itself from the world and the massive rift overhead became the only source of light. However not long after a campfire was set up on the lawn and in the Manor’s many chimneys. The emotional shock and the wear of the day of helping set up the tents and helping move the patients had left me bone tired. However as I climbed the stairs bare of light I saw Welton standing by the door with an old lantern in his grip because of course he had a lantern.