End of Time Revelation and Exodus

Cid yanks the wheel hard. The car lurches sideways toward the rusted service gate tucked behind the bridge support.

Ben is forced out onto the cracked asphalt, the open door slamming behind them. Above, the Murder Drone drifts free of the shadows, yellow eyes locked on the moving target.

Its arm reshapes with a wet metallic whine, the tool head blooming into a plasma cutter. The blade-wing twitches, tasting the air.

Martha clamps an arm around Rachel. Amy stares past the windshield, pale and rigid, as the car rolls toward the service tunnel entrance.

Ben squares up in the road. The Murder Drone hovers higher, angling down for the strike as the overpass looms overhead.

The shotgun bucks in Ben’s hands. The blast tears sparks off the overpass edge, not the drone, and the echo shatters through the bridge shadow.

It snaps toward the muzzle flash, plasma cutter still spinning up, the new angle exposing its underside as it dips lower over the road.

Its left wing is damaged, hanging a little crooked.

Cid jams the service gate with both hands and shoulder, forcing it wider. The rusted bars screech against concrete, just enough for the car to squeeze through.

Rachel flinches at the blast, Amy twists around in the seat, and the drone dives for the gap between Ben and the car, faster than before.

Ben ducks as the drone snaps past, the plasma cutter slicing air where their head was a heartbeat ago.

The near miss forces Ben off balance, and their boots skid sideways across the cracked asphalt toward the widening gate.

Above, the Murder Drone whips around in a tight bank, using the freeway’s broken edge to cut Ben off from the car.

Cid grits his teeth and shoves the gate farther open, but the frame groans under the strain and scrapes louder against the concrete.

The drone is not chasing the car first. It is trying to separate Ben from it.

Rachel shrinks lower in the back seat as Amy reaches for the door, ready to pull it shut or grab Ben, whichever comes first.

Ben hits the gap at a sprint, boots skimming rubble as the open gate yawns beside the car.

Cid jams the bars wider with a metallic screech, giving Ben just enough space to slip through toward the service tunnel opening.

The Murder Drone snaps downward after him, but the broken edge of the freeway and the gate frame force its line wide.

Amy throws the door farther open while Rachel ducks low behind the seat, both watching Ben clear the threshold.

Ben reaches the car side of the opening, the gate and tunnel mouth between them and the drone as dust pours from the concrete above.

Ben throws their weight into the gate bars. Metal shrieks, dust shakes loose, and the warped frame lurches shut under the combined strain.

Cid catches the last bar with both hands and slams it home. The opening seals with a hard clang, cutting the tunnel mouth off from the freeway.

Outside, the Murder Drone snaps at the barrier and gets nothing but steel. Its cutter scrapes sparks along the grate as it banks back.

Rachel peeks up, then flinches as another chunk of concrete puffs dust down from above. The tunnel trembles, but the family is through the gate line and out of the drone's direct reach.

The gate holds.