Authors: David Moody
One moment I felt complete and utter fear, helplessness and disorientation, the next nothing but disbelief.
It was like a switch had been flicked.
Numb and almost too afraid to move, we sat and waited for a reason to leave.
During the long, slow hours that followed I tried to telephone my friends and family again. I couldn’t get any answers using either Clare’s phone or my mobile. It was only four o’clock but it felt more like ten. The light outside was quickly fading. Clare drew the curtains and switched on a table lamp. `Hungry?’ she asked.
I shook my head. `No.’ `Want a drink?’ `No thanks.’
She stood up and paced impatiently around the room before sitting down again, frustrated. `You all right?’ I asked instinctively. Bloody stupid question.
Of course she wasn’t all right. `I’m fine,’ she sighed. `The world’s falling apart, I can’t get anyone on the phone and my daughter’s upstairs lying on her fucking bed like she’s been fucking lobotomised. I’m absolutely fucking fine! What about you?’ `Sorry,’ I mumbled.
She grunted and shook her head. `Look, do you think we should…?’
The lights went out. `Shit,’ Clare hissed. `Where’s your fuse-box?’ I asked. `Cupboard under the stairs,’ she replied as she felt her way across the room to stand next to me.
I carefully made my way around the room with outstretched hands, using the walls and furniture to support and guide me. I eventually reached the front door, then the stairs, then the cupboard. The fuse hadn’t tripped.
I retraced my steps back through the shadows to the living room. `Everything looks okay,’ I said. `Has this happened before?’ `No.’
Clare was standing by the window. Although I couldn’t see clearly what she was doing, I knew she was opening the curtains. `Is it just us?’ I asked.
Even from where I was standing I could tell that it wasn’t.
The world outside was bathed in a total, inky darkness. I couldn’t see even a single electric light out there. The houses nearby were dark. Every street light was dull and unlit. `A power cut,’ Clare hissed. `Bloody hell, that’s all we need.’
Instinctively I tried a few more electrical items although logic said that none of them would work. The television was dead, as was the stereo. Strangely, even the little battery powered radio which Clare kept in the kitchen seemed to have stopped working. `What about the phone?’ I wondered. `No-one’s answered the bloody thing all afternoon,’ she snapped, `what difference will it make?’
Begrudgingly she walked over to the phone, picked it up and then dropped it down again. `Well?’ `Dead,’ she sighed. `Can’t even get a dialling tone.’ `So what do we do now?’ `Are you going to try and get back home?’
I thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be any point.
There probably wouldn’t be anyone there. On the other hand we could all have gone to my place, but I didn’t like the idea of moving Penny in her current state. `I’ll stay here with you if that’s all right,’ I said. `Good,’ she replied. `You sure?’ `Sure.’ `What about your brother and Siobhan?’ `I don’t know.’ `Should you try and get to them?’ `Don’t know. I’d rather stay here and sit tight. I know where Siobhan is and I haven’t got a clue where Rob is. I’d rather not take any chances tonight. We’ll wait for the power to come back on and then we’ll decide what to do next.’
`Are we going to be safe here?’ `Safe from what?’ I replied rhetorically. Her question was logical but surprising and impossible to answer nonetheless. In the shadows and low light I saw her shrug her shoulders. She turned away from me to look out of the window.
I crept upstairs to check on Penny a short time later. On my hands and knees (so that I didn’t trip in the darkness and disturb her) I crawled into the bedroom. She was still lying under the bed where I had left her earlier. I gently pulled her out, lifted her surprisingly heavy frame and lay her on top of her covers. Her skin was cold and clammy. Even though her eyes were tightly closed, her face looked troubled and unnatural. Her innocent features were twisted and contorted with pain and confusion.
Part IV - CHANGE
26
I slept intermittently and woke early next morning to find myself sprawled across the settee in Clare’s dark living room. She lay asleep in my arms and for a long time I did nothing. I lay perfectly still and relaxed in her warmth and listened to the soft sounds of her steady breathing. Having her so close was reassuring.
We had waited together in the darkness for hours the previous evening, just sitting there waiting for something anything to happen. But nothing did. The power remained off and I remained unable to summon up the courage to get off my backside and go back home. It was easier to stay where I was and the excuse of looking after Clare and Penny was, in my own mind, enough justification for my actions. Just before two o’clock Clare had finally drifted off to sleep. My nerves and creeping anxiety had eventually been overtaken by tiredness an hour or so later.
As the cold grey light of day poured through the half-open curtains I began to remember everything that had happened previously, and the shock of recollection flooded over me like a torrent of ice-cold water. Any last vestiges of comfort, sleep and tiredness quickly disappeared and I knew that I needed to get up and get moving. I gently lifted Clare’s sleeping body from on top of me and, taking care not to wake her, I slid off the sofa and stumbled over to the window. The world outside seemed reassuringly dull and overcast.
With trepidation I climbed the stairs towards Penny’s room.
My heartbeat quickened nervously as I gently pushed the bedroom door open. I found the little girl in much the same state as she had been when Clare and I had last checked on her shortly after midnight. She lay on top of her bedclothes cold but breathing steadily covered with just a single blanket. Her angry fever had lessened although her forehead was still clammy. In the harsh light of morning, however, the extent of the horrific damage she’d inflicted (both to herself and her bedroom) was painfully apparent. All around me the carpet was covered with a layer of smashed and now useless toys, and strips of wallpaper hung down, torn angrily from the walls. Penny’s skin was bruised and she was smeared with traces of dried blood which had run freely from untreated cuts and grazes. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what could have caused such a normally calm and placid little girl to have turned like this. There wasn’t a single reason I could think of to explain why such a normally intelligent, bright and loving child should act with such anger and irrational spite and venom. As I stood and stared into her sleeping face I thought about the other people I had seen yesterday James, Stephanie and Siobhan. I knew that I couldn’t afford to stay hidden in the house and do nothing any longer.
I leant down and gently touched the side of Penny’s neck with my outstretched right hand, cautiously checking for a steady pulse. I quickly found one and, as I pulled my hand back, her eyes flickered open. She silently turned her head to look at me and stared angrily. Instinctively I backed away from the bed.
Thankfully she lay still and did not react in any other way. Her eyes remained wide huge, dark pupils but she seemed to be looking through me and past me, not directly at me. I made my way back downstairs.
Clare was awake when I returned to the living room, sitting waiting on the sofa. `How is she?’ she whispered anxiously. `A little better I think,’ I replied honestly. `She just opened her eyes. She’s calmer and her temperature’s gone down.’ `Thank God for that,’ she sighed with relief clear on her face. `Did she say anything to you?’
I shook my head. `No. I think she knew I was there with her but she didn’t say anything.’
I deliberately chose not to tell Clare about the way Penny had looked through me. I could still see those cold, emotionless eyes. `Good,’ she said, standing up and stretching. `I’ll go up and see her in a few minutes.’ `Okay.’
`So how are you feeling this morning?’ `Fine,’ I replied, giving little away. `You?’ `I’m all right.’ `Good.’ `Has the power come back on?’
I hadn’t even thought to check. I flicked the nearest light switch on and off a few times but nothing happened. `Still dead,’ I sighed dejectedly.
Clare walked into the kitchen, continuing to talk to me as she went. `So what are we going to do now?’ `What do you mean?’ `Do we still need to get a doctor out to see Penny or should we wait and see if…? Shit…’ `What’s the matter,’ I asked, concerned. I followed her into the other room and found her standing next to the cooker. `Bloody gas is off as well.’ `You sure?’
I walked over to the stove and tried the controls. She was right. I waited for the hiss of the gas but there was nothing. `What the fucking hell is going on here?’ I cursed, tired, irritated and unnerved.
I pulled the cooker back from the wall and checked that it was still connected. Everything looked okay. `Forget it,’ Clare said from the other side of the room. `Look.’
I looked up and saw that she was standing at the sink, holding the kettle under the cold tap. The tap was full on but just a pathetic trickle of water was coming from it. Ten seconds later and the trickle had dried up to nothing.
I could feel panic and uncertainty beginning to rise up in my throat like bile. I wanted to sit down and try and look for a rational explanation but I couldn’t. I couldn’t speak. For a few seconds I couldn’t even move. `What’s happening?’ Clare asked. Her throat sounded dry. `Don’t know,’ I mumbled pathetically. `I don’t know.’
She swallowed, put down the kettle and began to look around the room for answers. Then she looked at me.
`We’ve got to do something,’ she said. `We can’t just sit here.
Something’s happening and we need to find out what…’ `I know, but…’ `But what?’ she snapped angrily. `But fucking what? What is going on?’
I took an unsteady step towards her and then stopped. She turned away from me and leant over the sink and looked out of the window. `I don’t know,’ I said before quickly running out of things to say. `Look, maybe we should…’
I stopped speaking. Clare’s body tensed. Her attention had obviously been caught by something she’d seen outside. From where I was I couldn’t see what it was. Rather than tell me, she ran over to the back door, unlocked it and pushed her way outside. I followed close behind. `What’s the matter?’ I shouted after her. `What is it?’
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Hanging heavily in the sky, at a distance of maybe ten miles from the house, was an alien ship. Seemingly identical to the first ship we’d seen in the summer just passed, the huge vessel hung silently over the land. `Fucking hell…’ I began before my mouth dried. `What the hell is that doing here? I thought their rescue ship wasn’t due for another few months…?’
I walked a little way further away from the house and out into the garden. Turning back to look over the roof of the building behind me, I saw that there was a second noiseless ship in the sky, this one much closer. Both of the machines were vast and impervious. `What’s going on?’ Clare demanded desperately. `For Christ’s sake, Tom…’
She knew that I couldn’t answer.
A cold, autumnal rain had begun to fall. I wiped my face dry as I walked the length of Clare’s garden towards a low stone wall which separated her property from the fields beyond. I climbed the wall, jumped down and then ran into the middle of the nearest field, hoping to get a better view of the alien ship closest to the house. When I turned back I froze with sudden, bitter fear.
I could see another five ships, all watching and waiting ominously from seemingly random positions in the dark and overcast sky.
Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I ran back to the house.
27
Having to fight to keep calm and stay in control I bundled Clare back indoors and slammed the door shut behind me. `Why are those ships here?’ she demanded as I pushed her towards the living room. `No idea,’ I gasped, forcing my words out between deep, nervous breaths. `There are loads of the fucking things out there.’ `But why?’
Ignoring her questions I instinctively grabbed at the phone again and held it to my ear. It was still dead and I angrily threw it back down to the table. `Are they here to pick up the aliens?’ she asked, pressing me for answers which she knew I couldn’t give. `Don’t know. They could be.’ `But what else could they be doing…?’ `I’ve told you,’ I snapped. `I don’t know. For Christ’s sake, I don’t know any more than you do.’
Maybe I could have thought of a hundred and one reasons why the ships might have arrived, but none of them would necessarily have been right. Whatever the reason, I knew we were in trouble. Each one of the ships on their own would have been sufficient to hold the three hundred and sixty-eight original aliens so why were there so many here? And from the time they’d first made contact with us we had been told that it would take at least ten months for their rescuers to get here. Less than half that time had so far elapsed. `We should wait here,’ Clare rambled nervously. `Wait here and…’ `Why? We’ve done all our waiting, haven’t we? We waited here all last night for the power to come back on and for Penny to…’