Summary: Striker is caught off guard as the Extermination's date is moved earlier.
The next morning, Striker found himself alone in bed and a note on Jane's side.
Went to get some more groceries and something tasty for breakfast. I'll be back before noon.
- Jane.
P.S. I'm taking Snowfire.
"Dammit, Jane, you should have waited for me." Striker murmured, kicking the sheets off and leaving bed to dress up in a casual attire.
There was still some work to be done before the Extermination. All of the windows on the upper floor had already been barricaded, and the pantry and fridge had enough food to last 24 hours. Once he finished boarding up the last windows on the ground floor, he'd be free to enjoy more time with his wife and unborn child.
The first thing he did was going to feed Bombproof. Striker glanced worriedly at Snowfire's empty stall. These past months, he'd tried to convince Jane not to ride by herself, but she insisted that her horse was very careful with her and never spooked. He hoped she was right. Perhaps he and Jane can go riding together one last time before they set their Hellhorses loose for the event.
Unlike most creatures from Hell, Hellhorses were often released before Exterminations began; the animals knew how to survive the annual purge by themselves, and the Angels didn't seem to target them either. Where they went was something no demon knew, though.
Striker heard distressed snorts and angry stomps from inside the stall. He dropped the large piece of venison meat and ran to open the door. The horse nearly ran him over as it burst out of its stall.
"Bombproof! Easy, boy!" he shouted, patting the stallion's neck. Bombproof's ears were flat against his head and he was moving his head from side to side. He's afraid. "Shh, there, there. What's wrong?"
There wasn't anything inside the stall. Even if there was, Bombproof isn't the type of horse to get spooked by small critters. Striker once heard that Hellhorses can predict when something bad is going to happen. He's never believed in silly superstitions, but Bombproof's behavior gave him a bad feeling.
Once he managed to calm Bombproof down and feed him, Striker returned to the house to continue his task of boarding up the remaining windows. He was halfway through nailing the boards on the last one when something happened.
BONG!
The toll of a bell distracted Striker from his task. That's odd, who's ringing a bell at this hour? Curious, Striker went to the door to see what was going on.
BONG!
His face paled when he saw the glow of the white moon swallowing the rapidly brightening sky. This can't be! The Extermination isn't due until next month!
His phone rang with an urgent notification.
ALERT!
THE ANNUAL CLEANSE HAS BEEN MOVED TO AN EARLIER DATE. SEEK SHELTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
THIS ISN'T A DRILL!
Striker swore he was close to having a heart attack. "JANE!"
BONG!
Striker quickly went back inside and searched through a black chest for his wife's blessing-tipped weapons, which they had tucked away after deciding not to take more assassination jobs for the time being. With pistol and knife, he ran back outside just as balls of radiant white light streaked across the orange sky in every direction.
Bombproof galloped to his master's side as he heard him whistle. Striker jumped unto the horse and galloped to town, kicking Bombproof's sides to make him go faster.
"Please be safe, doll."