Authors: Richard Murphy
Daniel wasn’t sure why the fire bells were ringing. There was no fire. People poured down the stairwells again in a fuzz but this time there was no chatter or jokes. The sheer amount of quiet was worrying him for some reason; there was calm, there were footsteps but nobody spoke. When they got to the back of the building people looked around for direction. A lot of them were making for the fire points, backed up against the fence at the rear of the parking lot. Daniel immediately realised his car keys were up in his desk.
Then, there was an enormous sound like a hundred car wrecks. Something had hit the other side of the building. It visibly creased in the middle and dust and debris floated up to the clouds. Now people started to scream. He took a step back and bumped into a guy from reception.
“What is it?” said the man.
“I don’t know,” he said. Another thud and the building gave a languid shudder. “We have to get away.”
The roof gave another lurch and then dropped to the right like a giant animal shrugging its shoulders. People had started to run, their cries all around him. Daniel saw the faces flashing past but couldn’t take his eyes off the office. The convulsions from the structure were building up to a crescendo. Throbbing, like some dreadful birth, the back wall bulged and then crumpled into dust and bricks before the thing eventually emerged.
Through the dust Daniel saw two circles of yellow light, like eyes on its head. The glows pierced through the dirt unnaturally and slowly bobbed up and down as it walked towards them. There were screams and shouts but all Daniel could do was stare. The body, if it was a body, was the size of a large man; but metallic, gun-like and smooth. There were hands but no fingers, no real joints to speak of. As it trudged forward the metal shifted like a wind struck puddle.
Someone grabbed Daniel’s shoulder and he felt his torso spin before, finally, his legs arrived at the party. The direction of the surge was towards the car park entrance, but it was narrow there and people were slowly squashing together. Daniel looked behind. The figure was walking towards them, slowly, but not stopping. There were more cars but it just strode through them; some bouncing away, others rolling over and being trampled like cardboard boxes.
A woman in front of him fell and he stumbled, his arms reached out but grabbed only a coat and suddenly he was falling onto people. It was hot, bodies were starting to pile up; he felt their breath surround him and he heard their shrieks. Then, suddenly, he could see space ahead and the posts of the car park entrance. He managed to get on to his knees, then one foot. As he lurched up he again looked around. The thing was about fifty yards away and had caught the first of the stragglers. Like the cars it walked straight through the people and, in some cases, over them.
The eyes. Was it alive? It looked like it was. But it had the body of a machine.
He ran to the road where people from the office were streaming out of the car park. Passers-by had stopped their vehicles and were coming back in, trying to help. The result was two waves of bodies hitting each other, surging up in the middle like surf. Daniel stepped to the side, desperately trying to make his way one step at a time along the outer wall. He at last put some distance between himself and the entrance, the crowd thinning out across the road. He walked back, facing toward the offices, or what was left. The entire building had buckled and he noted his own floor was under rubble.
The traffic was all but stopped and he crossed over; all the while looking back at the people funnelling out of the entrance. A police car showed up and the local Sheriff stepped out. They knew each other vaguely and he acknowledged Daniel, making the briefest of eye contact.
Shoulders back and hat straightened, the sheriff marched over to the car park entrance as the river of people finally became a trickle. Any second now the thing would appear. Daniel wanted to shout to the cop to get his gun out but before he could a movement to his left made him turn. The nearby wall fell over in chunks and the thing walked through. It was heading straight for him.
As his feet started to step backwards he trod on a bottle and it crackled. He couldn’t do anything other than stare at the eyes coming forward. Suddenly there was a figure between them. It was the sheriff and he was raising his gun.
“Don’t move!” He was addressing it like a person. Was it?
It kept coming.
A shot. Then another. The bullets sparked on the body of the thing but it walked through the sheriff without even stopping. Daniel circled away. It turned toward him. He stepped to the right; it changed direction. A dive to the left; it lurched again. He felt a curling knot in his stomach when he realised it was here for him.
His feet were now furiously working backward. His legs hit something. Turning, he saw the sheriff’s car, the engine still running and the door open. He dived inside, pulled the door shut and hit the gas just as the creature, its arms extended, arrived. The metal hands managed to take a chunk out of the door before he got away. In the rear view mirror he saw it start to traipse after him surrounded by people screaming. More police were just arriving.
Toby pulled up at the side of the road and looked down at the Satnav with a grimace. It was blinking blue to signify the end of the journey but this wasn’t Mountplace; this was nowhere. Up ahead was a bridge over a gorge, surrounded by thick pines on either side and there was no way to tell if he was even close to the town. Something caught his eye in the rear view mirror and he popped his head out of the window.
A man in Lycra shorts was cycling up behind him, closely followed by mom and two boys in matching outfits on their matching bikes. Toby got out and waved the guy down who slowed and pulled up; the family following suit.
“Ted Hardy,” he said, adjusting his shorts with a vacant smile. “Little trouble?”
“Hi Ted, I’m Toby. I’m looking for the town of Mountplace.”
“Mountplace? Just over there about a quarter of a mile past the bridge. You can’t miss it.”
“That’s great Ted, thanks.”
Ted motioned for his family to ‘saddle up’ and they were just getting underway when a police car came screaming over the bridge, lights flashing and siren wailing at full volume. As it whizzed by it forced up the air and leaves sending Ted’s wife back fumbling with her bike against a tree.
Toby’s eyes followed the car down the road to a sharp bend where it disappeared.
“You okay, kids?” said Ted, ignoring his wife.
As the siren faded, dropping an octave, Toby became aware of another noise. More distant, but somehow louder. A repetitive, low thudding. It was almost like a bass drum.
“That cop sure looked like he was in a hurry.”
“Wasn’t a cop,” said Toby, turning to look over the bridge.
“Oh,” said Ted. “Well, have a nice time in Mountplace, I’m sure they’ll make you welcome. Come on kids.” Ted heaved off on the bike, his enormous thighs pumping the pedals downwards. The kids, forced smiles, pushed off too and finally mom cycled past with a nod.
Toby, still looking toward the bridge, got back in his car and drove. He passed Ted and his family on the bridge with a wave and carried on until he reached the outskirts of Mountplace. And the town looked like hell.
“You off-duty, officer?”
Daniel stared vacantly at the clerk behind the motel reception.
“The car,” said the clerk, pointing out of the window.
“Oh, right. Yeah, I’m just on my way to a seminar.” Daniel mentally kicked himself.
“Seminar, huh.” The clerk spun around on his chair and grabbed a key from the rack. “The rooms are forty dollars a night.”
“Thanks.” Daniel fumbled in his wallet before finally handing over the money. He smiled, picked up the key and headed down the walkway.
“Ain’t you got no luggage?”
“No.”
The clerk’s eyes narrowed as he struggled to figure out Daniel. His gaze was summoned by some breaking news on the TV and when he looked back Daniel was already half way across the parking lot on the way to his room.
Opening the door Daniel was greeted by a dark serenity. It was clean and comfortable, but most of all quiet. After all that had happened he needed to sit down and did so at the end of the bed. His hand automatically reached for the TV set but he froze momentarily and instead opened the miniature fridge underneath. He found what he wanted; a small plastic bottle of bourbon. He clicked off the cap and glugged it back. It tasted sour and cold, but it did the trick and he felt his body slacken.
What had just happened? What was that thing? He went over the events again and again. The figure walking toward him, outstretching its arms; scraping at the car. Why did it go after him amongst all those other people? Should he phone the police and let them know? Or had he done something wrong?
He lay back on the bed, his head whirling and his cheek touched the cold cotton pillow. He must have driven for an hour, but he wasn’t sure. His mind was playing everything in fast forward, his eyes closed and everything eventually darkened.
The buzzing at the door made Daniel wake up with a gasp. He was sure his eyes had only been shut a moment. Had he been dreaming?
“Open up. Police.” Three knocks for good measure.
I’m going to be shot
, thought Daniel. He looked around for some escape, but there was none. The wooden room had one door in and one door out. The windows were small, intended to keep out intruders, he guessed. They could just as easily have been designed to keep in guests.
“I’m not armed!” he said, his voice croaking in panic.
“Sir?”
“I’m opening the door now and I’m not armed.”
He walked across the room trying to take as much of his weight off the floor as he could. Any moment now he would hear the cracking of guns and see bullet holes open up in the door; daylight streaming in tubes onto the floor. As he twisted the handle and pulled it back he squinted shut his eyes as sunshine bounced off the bleached white landscape. Then, after a few seconds and no gunshots, he eased them open again.
The two police officers in front of him exchanged a look. The one on the right was holding, in both hands and pointed directly at Daniel, a clipboard.
“Sir, we’re evacuating the area due to a terrorist threat. I’m going to have to ask you to get in your vehicle and head west.”
Daniel’s blank face remained motionless.
“Sir, do you have a vehicle?”
“Yes. No.”
“Sir?”
“Please, I only took the car to get away from the thing that was chasing me.”
The two officers looked at each other.
“You’ve seen it? Sir, how close were you?”
“It smashed through our offices. It tried to kill me. The sheriff tried to stop it. He shot it, but it didn’t stop. So I got in his car.”
“We need to get you out of this area now,” said one of the cops, gently taking hold of his arm. The other one walked past them into the hotel room and started looking around.
“Why? What’s happening?”
The cop in his room picked up the remote. “Haven’t you seen the news?”
They went inside and looked up at the small fuzzy unit on the wall. Daniel sat back on the bed and the cop with the remote stepped back from the TV.
The pictures were from a news camera in a helicopter. The commentator was blabbering on about something or other, but it was the picture that possessed you. The thing was walking across a road, police and paramedics scattering like mice. The slow, thudding plod could be heard even from the chopper. It strode straight through a car, then a shop, then a wall like they were all plywood sets.
The first cop turned up the volume.
“…where we are witnessing what can only be described as extraordinary events. Several hours ago some kind of machine or life form, we are not certain, arrived at the town. Its purpose is unclear. It seems non-hostile but is leaving a trail of damage as it makes its way across the county. Police have been unable to halt the entity…”
Daniel looked hopelessly at the screen. “What is this?”
“We don’t know. It just keeps moving. Walking.”
The other cop was outside now, talking into his radio. “What does it want?” said Daniel.
“We don’t know yet.”
The other cop came back in. “It’s heading this way. We’ve got half an hour so we need to clear the area. Sir, I’d like you to come back to the station and tell us what you saw.”
They left the room, leaving the door open and the TV on before gently ushering Daniel into the back of the squad car. On the TV the image changed to that of a middle-aged man, with thinning grey hair and a small beard, sitting behind a studio desk.
“What we are seeing here Susan is, in my opinion, some form of extra-terrestrial life. This creature is not from our planet.”
The image cut back to the anchor, a finger in her ear. “And this just in; U.S Military personnel have now moved into the area and I’m afraid we’re going to lose the pictures as our helicopter is being ordered out.”
Sergeant Major Carter was looking around at the rest of his squad, puzzled. He’d realised there was something up the moment they got into the back of the MRAP. Huey, Jones, Spike and Mickey all looked quietly at the floor occasionally checking their kit and ammo.
They had received the call from HQ whilst out on manoeuvres in the nearby plains. The guys had all headed back to base but Carter had been out to pick up the ‘Mine Resistant Ambush Protected’ vehicle before collecting the squad. Now he was driving, full throttle, to some deadbeat town in the middle of nowhere because…well, what? All he’d been told was that they thought an enemy plane had gone down. But the looks from the guys said it all. They’d found out more back at the base.
He glanced up in the mirror, his hands making tiny adjustments to the steering wheel as they accelerated down the highway. It was empty.
“Is someone going to tell me what in God’s name is going on?”
The squad all shared a moment before Huey spoke up. “You see it, sir?”
The truck jerked to the right as Carter pulled it from the highway and onto a main street. The town was less than five minutes away.
“I ain’t seen shit, Huey.”
Huey took a long look down the barrel of his gun. “It was on the news in the mess. They say it’s an alien.”
Carter had grown up in the projects of Chicago. He was tough. He was mean. He was smart. He also hated bullshit. “Don’t you go getting all
Independence Day
on my ass, Huey.” He swerved right onto a track just outside of town, the military navigation urging him across a field; roads were for other people.
As they bounced over a crest they briefly saw the town. “It was some kind of robot, Sarg.”
“Robot? Huey, have you been smoking crack?”
Spike looked up into the mirror and his Southern drawl seemed to roll over Carter’s shoulder. “He’s not messing, Sarg. It was on TV.”
The car plunged down the hillside taking out a small fence. It hit the road at the bottom with a crunch that sent the guys in the back flying up in their seats. They went past a few houses and a general store before pulling up at a junction alongside another army jeep. Outside, an officer was on his radio. Carter stopped the car and leaned out. “Sir, we’re with B platoon.”
Nobody in the back heard what the reply was but Carter spoke up. “Okay, everybody out.” The men emerged from the vehicle at angles, stretching, adjusting straps and grabbing equipment all at once.
Carter started to walk off toward what looked like a library and they followed. The town was dark, the street lights seemed to be out, but there were some other lights up ahead. As they got near they realised it was the rest of the army. And there were a lot of them.
Spike whistled and Huey just said, “Jesus.” In the centre of the town was a tank and probably close to a full company of men. Floodlights stood towering over them giving everything a white sheen, but it was easy enough to see a line had been drawn here. This was the main entrance into the town where a ‘Drive Carefully’ sign and an antique cannon from the civil war stood under a tree. Next to it, its great-grandson perched on the end of the tank. Around them six or seven machine guns were set up in front of two squads.
A command tent was further back and next to that were trucks, radio points and more arms. It looked like they were preparing for an invasion. Carter spotted another Sergeant, someone he knew fairly well.
“Jennings, what the hell is going on here, man?”
Jennings was busy ordering men about with kit. He turned to Carter, his face a stoic wall. “It’s going to be here any second. Get your men in position behind the tank.”
Carter’s eyes narrowed. “It?”
Jennings shouted some abuse at a passing Corporal. “The thing. Ain’t you seen it?”
Carter spat on the floor. “I ain’t seen shit!”
Jennings shook his head, “You’d best go report to the C.O.” He pointed at a tent that had been erected in front of what looked like a bookshop.
Carter turned, dodged two men running past with a crate of shells, before making his way back to the squad. “Alright, get in position over there. I’m going to try to find out what we’re supposed to be actually doing.”
The men nodded collectively before making their way to the grassy bank behind the tank; fifty tonnes of steel was pretty reassuring in times like this. Carter jogged over to the tent, saluted the guard and made his way inside. In it he found a captain, several junior officers and a whole host of civilians; the local fire chief, some paramedics and two cops.
The captain shouted out above the din of people and phones. “Alright, listen up. Corporal, where is this thing?”
The Corporal in question was hunched over a laptop, the white luminosity making his face pale and ghostly. Reflected in his glasses Carter could make out a GPS map.
“It’s about 1 click away and closing at 5 clicks an hour. We’ve got ten minutes.”
The captain turned to the assortment of emergency services personnel. “Ok, I want everyone inside the perimeter. Chief, I want your men on standby; we don’t know what kind of arsenal this thing’s got. Paramedics at the ready and I want your police officers to start checking for any remaining civilians.”
The police chief touched his hat and said, “You got it,” before rushing past Carter and out of the tent.
The captain caught his eyes and Carter immediately saluted.
“At ease, Sergeant. What’s your story?”
“Sergeant Carter, B Platoon. Reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Ok Sergeant, are your men in position?”
“Yes sir, we’ve set ourselves up behind the tank outside.”
“Ok, hold fire until ordered to do so, understood?”
“Yes sir, I…”
One of the other officers looked up as the silence hung.
“Spit it out,” said the captain.
“I still don’t know the nature of the engagement, sir. Who are we fighting? Is it terrorists?”
The captain looked at one of the other officers and shook his head.
“Have you been watching the news, son?”
“No sir, we’ve been out on manoeuvres.”
“Somebody get this man on YouTube.”
Carter wasn’t sure he understood. The people in the room seemed to have returned to their duties, the Fire Chief was on a radio and the paramedics were checking their kit. One of the army officers motioned Carter over to his laptop. “Take a look,” he said, before bringing up an internet window.
Carter stared at the screen, stared at the officer and then stared back again. It looked like a movie; in the sense of a movie made in Hollywood. It was amateur footage; shot from a phone. The thing, whatever it was, walked through a truck and a house. The camera panned back briefly to show a path of demolition and smoke.
A voice snapped him out of his coma.
“Sir, we have visual contact.”
“Get your men ready, Sergeant,” barked the captain. Carter looked momentarily lost, his wide eyes searching for something to focus on.
“Now!” said the captain.
Carter shook his head, for some reason saluted and then rushed outside. The floodlights had lit up the road leading out of town and already people were aiming their guns in that direction. He thought he saw movement but didn’t stop to look. He found his squad stood behind the tank, rifles dangling from their arms, heads tilted back in order to get a better look at whatever was coming.
Something crashed down the road and the few street lights that were left flickered momentarily before blinking out. A car alarm started whining.
“Get down!” said Carter. The squad squatted and grabbed their helmets. Above them the tank’s turret moved into position with an electric purr. Carter looked around to see what the other officers were doing. Everyone was staring straight ahead looking at the road.
Another crash made him turn. A telegraph pole slumped to the ground and for the first time he saw it; as big as a man, but metal and glossy. Its eyes were two holes of light. Not electrical, not sunlight but something else; closer to moonlight.
It was walking toward them, toward the line and nothing seemed to stop it or even slow it down. It went through a house, knocked over a tree and straight through a truck.
“Jesus,” said Huey.
The thing had reached a barrier of concrete barrels and bars now, about 100 yards from the troops. The barrels popped in a cloud of grey dust and the bars screeched as they were dragged along and trampled. Behind him someone cursed and Carter turned to see the captain had emerged from the tent; he was pale.
Now it walked through the antique cannon on the green and was bearing toward the tank. This time the captain had seen enough. “Open fire!”
Immediately the air was filled with the snapping of guns. Carter looked across at his men; they were all emptying their rifles. His eyes followed the flashes and bangs to the thing. It was still walking toward the tank, sparks sprinkling off it. But the bullets did nothing; it wasn’t even slowing down.
Next there was the flash of the tank’s gun, followed by the bang and a pressure cloud that sent everyone to the deck. Carter had covered his face just in time and when he looked up the creature was twenty yards further back down the road on the floor. But, without pausing, it righted itself, got up and carried on walking toward them.
Nobody could move. As it neared the tank it simply walked through it, pushing the colossal metal hulk aside as if it were a fairy cake. The side got crushed and the metal groaned. The hatch flew open as the crew scrambled to escape but the thing walked on, past the tank, past the command tent and then was lost as it disappeared through a department store.
Carter glanced at his men before turning to the captain. Nobody said a word.