Day by Day Armageddon: Shattered Hourglass by J. L. Bourne Page A

walked through and from there things became more and more curious.

8
    “Was that you?”
    “Me what?
    “Did you throw something?”
    “No, what’s wrong with you?”
    “Never mind, probably flies.”
    “Not this far out, not this time of year.”
    A chorus of giggles resonated from the passageway outside the ship’s combat control center.
    “Those fucking kids. I want to throw them over the side. You wanna scare them straight or should I?” said one of the men sitting at his radar operator chair.
    “It’s my turn, let me do it,” his colleague replied, grinning. Reaching into a cardboard box near his radar terminal, the sailor removed a gruesome Halloween mask, resembling the face of a corpse. He placed it over his head, adjusting the fit so that he could see through the mask’s small eye openings.
    “Watch this!”
    He stepped over to the open door and jumped through the threshold, roaring like a banshee. The small group of children screamed for their lives and began to scatter . . . all but one.
    A swift front kick from the child to the radar operator’s groin brought the man crashing to the floor. The other radar operator broke out in hysterical laughter that was cut short as the child advanced, moving with a visible intent to kick the man’s head in with all his small might. Just in time, an older woman with curly red hair entered the space, drawn by the screams and the commotion.
    “What is going on in here, Danny?” the woman asked with authority.
    “Granny Dean, I thought he was a . . .”
    The man slowly pulled off his mask and remained in the fetal position moaning in pain.
    Embarrassed, the little boy said, “Sorry, mister, I didn’t know. Thought you were dead.”
    The woman walked up to the man on the floor and helped him to his feet. “What is this about? Do you spend all your time scaring children or just while on duty?”
    Struggling and still dazed by the pain the man replied, “Ma’am, I’m sorry. The kids were being loud and driving us crazy and I thought it’d be funny to . . .”
    “Funny until someone accidentally shoots you in the head! Give me that thing, I’m going to throw it overboard this instant. Consider yourself lucky I don’t speak to the admiral about this.”
    The man quickly handed over the mask. Dean snatched it from his hand like a striking snake.
    “You better get used to the kids, too. I’m teaching class up the hall and they’ll be coming through here on the way to and from.”
    “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
    “While we’re on the subject of apologies, Danny, care to say anything?”
    “Sorry for kicking you in the nu . . . I mean, between the legs. You scared me good.”
    “Sorry, kid.”
    “S’okay,” Danny said regretfully.
    Dean boomed again with authority, “Danny, gather up the kids and get them back to class. One of the doctors will be teaching first aid in fifteen minutes.”
    She didn’t have time to explain to Danny the difference between a hospital corpsman and a medical doctor.
    “Okay, Granny. Just like hide and seek. Bet I can find Laura first!”
    A little girl’s voice echoed, “No way!” from behind a fire hose down the passageway, and the chase was on.
    Dean shot a disapproving look past the radar operators and followed Danny to the classroom.
    “Youth is truly wasted on the young,” she said.

9
    Disco tugged the rope tied securely to the door. Nothing happened.
    “Hawse, the door opens outward. You’re gonna have to kick it.”
    “All right, stand back, I’ll . . .”
    The door began to rattle and creak on its heavy hinges. It opened slowly; white bony fingers rounded the dark steel edges like hermit crab claws protruding from a shell.
    “Fuck, get ready, get on the radio!” Hawse said frantically.
    While Disco relayed the situation to the control room he brought his carbine to his shoulder—one hand on the weapon, the other grabbing for another full magazine.
    The door opened wider and wicked faces