Something was coming.

The whole thing seemed like nothing out of the ordinary in the beginning.

An unsteady stream of rain escaping the clogged gutters over the window.

Occasional clicks and pops down the dark hall.

A methodical huff every time the cat exhaled.

Fairly distant gunshots coming in sets of six.

None of that worked to disrupt the normality of the weeknight.

The rumbling, however, drew attention to itself. It came, at first, in a low and easily ignored pulse, but didn’t remain that way. When next it sounded, it was louder or closer maybe.

More gunshots broke through the anticipating silence followed by the new auditory interruption. But this time, there were far more gunshots and the windows shook with the growing growl.

By the time any alarm had been raised, the once written-off grumble had become a fully formed roar, getting less and less distant. That and the gunshots.