Authors: David Moody
`Well,’ she asked, `know where we are?’ `Not sure,’ I answered truthfully. `Brilliant,’ she sighed.
We picked up our rucksacks and the sports bag and walked on.
35
Footsteps.
Not ordinary footsteps footsteps that were synchronised and regimental in their pace. Footsteps that were programmed, planned and controlled. Thousands of involuntary footsteps directed with a cold, emotionless precision. Footsteps that were getting closer by the second.
The ominous marching sound could clearly be heard through the churning, blustery air and I knew immediately what was coming towards us. Clare looked confused. She’d heard me talk about the vast columns of people I’d seen but she hadn’t seen much of them yet for herself. It was what couldn’t be heard that unnerved me. Other than the muffled sound of countless pairs of feet dragging themselves over the hard ground there was nothing else. Not even a single whimper or moan of protestation could be heard.
Just ahead of us the road curved round tight to the right. `Wait here,’ I whispered and I gestured for Clare to press herself against the hedgerow and camouflage herself as best she could. `Where you going?’ she asked nervously, her face suddenly filled with fear and uncertainty. `What’s the matter?’
I shook my head. `It’s nothing,’ I lied. `Look, I just want to check round the corner. I’ll be back in a couple of seconds.’
I was gone before she had chance to protest. I sprinted a short way further up the road. There was nothing there the road straightened again and seemed to run on for another half mile or so and I quickly turned back. I ran past Clare, doubling-back on myself, and carried on back down the road until I could see the heads of the first few approaching figures. The hedge was low at that point and I was able to see a fair way into the distance. A seemingly unending line of figures were moving towards us relentlessly, still marching in their unnaturally precise formation. I had seen all that I needed to see and I ran back to Clare. `What?’ she demanded. She was standing in the middle of the road with her hands on her hips. `What’s going on?’ `It’s like I saw earlier,’ I replied. `Bloody hundreds of people heading our way.’ `What are they doing out here?’ `No idea. There’s nothing round here for miles.’
She wasn’t listening. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that the beginning of the vast column of people had come into view. Four figures with their faces fixed dead ahead, followed by four more, then four more and then more after that…
I could tell from the expression on Clare’s face that she knew something was wrong. `Just keep out of the way,’ I whispered. `They won’t even notice us. Just get back against the hedge.’
This time she did just as I asked and she shuffled back into the undergrowth. I stood in front of her, trying to block and protect her from the advancing people. They began to pass us. `Can you stop one of them?’ she asked from behind me. `Not worth it. I tried earlier. Pull one out of line and they’ll just merge back into formation as soon as you let go.’ `Is this what you saw in the village this morning?’ `Similar. Same formation.’ `But why?’
She knew I couldn’t answer. `Don’t know.’ `So where are these people from?’ `Don’t know.’ `Where are they going?’ `Don’t know,’ I snapped, now not bothered if any of the bodies heard me. `Fucking hell, how am I supposed to know the answer to that?’ `I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. `I just needed to ask. I’ve got a thousand and one questions in my head and I just needed to…’
`Forget it,’ I interrupted, turning round to face her. `Just forget all your questions because there’s no point. There’s nothing we can do about any of this.’ `But why are they out here? There must be a reason…?’ `What does it matter?’
I turned back to look at the bodies walking down the middle of the road. By now the first few were following the tight curve of the road perfectly. `But what about Penny?’ she asked. I could hear her sniffing back more tears. `What about Rob and Siobhan and…’ `Gone,’ I replied, trying desperately to hide my emotion and disguise my pain. `My guess is they’re all in one of these queues somewhere. Might even be here for all we know.’ `Do you think so?’ she said, suddenly more alert. I instantly regretted my words. `Forget it,’ I said again as the vast procession continued past us. `There must be something we can do.’ `Like what? What are we going to do to help the millions of poor bastards like these?’ `I just can’t believe that there’s nothing we can do.’ `Get it through your head, Clare,’ I sighed, `it’s too late. The time to act was months ago when those fucking aliens first arrived here.’
Another wave of brilliant light distracted me. An alien ship appeared overhead. It was flying ominously low. `Shit,’ I hissed. `What?’ `That thing,’ I said, glancing up at the massive black machine. `We’ve seen a hundred of them. What’s different about this one…’ She was silenced when her question was unexpectedly answered. The ship suddenly stopped dead. It hovered low in the sky just a short distance away. `I think we should get out of here,’ I mumbled nervously. `Which way?’ `Back.’
We turned and ran in the opposite direction, retracing the route of the bodies in reverse. We sprinted for all we were worth until we couldn’t go any further and then stopped. The road had climbed slightly and from our elevated position the alien ship didn’t seem to be any further away.
Clare was fighting to catch her breath. She retched with exhaustion, fear and mounting panic. Doubled-up with pain, she dropped to her knees. `You okay?’ I asked, crouching down next to her. `Sorry,’ she wheezed. `Can’t go any further.’
I stood and turned back to look towards the ship. I could see the part of the road we’d just run along and, further in the distance, I could see the tight corner and the stretch of straight road beyond that. I could also see the bodies. Clare dragged herself back onto her feet and stood next to me. `What the bloody hell is happening now?’ I heard her ask although I did not answer.
As we watched the crowd of figures left the road and entered a large square field through a single narrow gate. Bizarrely, they then formed themselves into perfectly straight lines across the width of the field. With equal distance between the bodies on all sides, the people stood motionless. Many of them were half dressed, and all of them were soaked to the skin. But still they didn’t move. Each individual remained upright and impassive. In just a couple of minutes the field was full. I quickly counted thirty-two rows of thirty-two people.
The alien ship was hovering directly above the centre of the field. A single opening appeared towards the front of the vessel and from it emerged a long, dark stem. This ship was identical to the one I’d seen in the skies over Thatcham hours earlier. `What’s that?’ Clare asked nervously, grabbing hold of my arm.
I was about to tell her that I’d seen something similar when it happened. In a fraction of a second the field (and just the field not any of the surrounding countryside) was filled with a precise square of intense blue-white light. Far brighter than the light from the engines of any of the alien machines, it scorched our skin. We turned away instinctively. Another fraction of a second and it was over. The world was suddenly drenched in a deeper darkness than before.
Almost too afraid to look, I cautiously stared into the field again. The alien ship was already on its way, soaring effortlessly above the countryside.
The field was empty.
Clare and I walked back down the road and cautiously approached the entrance to the field. As we walked I tried to explain to her the little I understood of what had just happened. `It’s a cull,’ I said simply. `What?’
We stood at the edge of the field and stared at the empty space where just over a thousand people had been standing minutes earlier. `I said it’s a cull,’ I repeated. `I found out about it this morning. I didn’t bother telling you…’ `You didn’t think you should tell me that those bloody things up there are planning to get rid of us all? You didn’t think that I might have needed to know what’s going to happen to…’ `I didn’t tell you because there’s fuck all you or me or anyone can do about it. The aliens need the planet but they don’t need us. It’s as simple as that.’ `But they can’t. They just can’t…’ `They already have.’
Too tired to argue I dropped the heavy sports bag and leant against a metal gatepost. `But those people were…’ `Save your breath,’ I sighed. I pointed up into the sky. `Go and tell them how pissed off you are about the whole thing if you want to, but it won’t do you any good. You do well if you manage to find one of those cowardly bastards.’
I picked up the bag and started to walk again. `We’ll be okay if we keep out of their way. We’ll keep our heads down and keep out of their way.’
I took one last look at the field as we carried on down the road. It looked perfectly normal - untouched and unspoilt as if no-one had ever been there. One thing was certain, there were no hidden escape routes and no alternative explanations.
Over a thousand people had been destroyed in seconds.
Part V - CULL
36
The driving rain and bitter, swirling wind continued with an increased ferocity. The desperate conditions only served to add to the confusion and disorientation of the night. Despite knowing full well that every step we took was pointless, Clare and I continued to press on. More than anything it was the only sensible option - we could keep moving or we could sit and wait for the apparently inevitable. As the world around us began to change and be adapted by the aliens for their own use, I was thankful that I was finally able to recognise the stretch of road that we followed. I knew that it would only be a short while before we reached the ocean.
We eventually left the relative certainty of the road and began to walk along a muddy, uneven and well-used public footpath.
We found ourselves walking across the exposed peak of a high hill and, momentarily, we paused to try and get our bearings. I turned to look back towards Thatcham and could see the exact point on the coastline where I had stood and witnessed the arrival of the first alien ship last summer. The village itself - normally an obvious bright cluster of street lamps, car headlights and homes - was hardly visible. Thatcham was as black and lifeless as the rest of the beaten world around it. Save for the gusting of the wind through the trees, the only visible movement came from the alien ships powering through the turbulent sky.
The only light came from their brightly burning engines.
Christ, seeing the shell of the village was painful. I felt the same cold and inescapable fear and uncertainty then as I had when I had stared into Rob’s dead eyes earlier that morning.
Obviously feeling as battered and hurt as I was, Clare moved closer and gently took hold of my arm. `Come on,’ she shouted, struggling to make herself heard over the driving wind and rain. `Let’s keep moving.’
Ahead of us was the ocean. The often still and placid waters were churning and vicious waves crashed against the shore. I could just about make out the shape of the Devil’s Peak in the near distance. Although closer than it had been all night it still seemed a million miles away. `Not far now,’ I said, trying to keep us both motivated.
Clare’s face suddenly froze with fear and I span around to look at whatever it was she had seen. A massive alien ship was drifting over the rolling hills and towards the ocean and, from its vast and sleek belly, a phalanx of silent shuttles dropped into the night sky and tore through the air towards us. We held each other tightly and instinctively braced ourselves for attack. Seventeen ships raced through the sky less than fifty feet above our heads.
Within seconds they were gone. We watched them disappear into the distance. `Jesus…’ Clare sobbed, shaken by the alien’s sudden closeness.
For the first time that night the myriad of machines around us seemed to have a visible purpose. Rather than just appearing to drift aimlessly to and fro, many now moved with definite and easily identifiable patterns. The fleet of shuttles that had just flown overhead could be seen splitting and either becoming part of one of countless vast convoys or docking with other colossal motherships.
The point on the hill upon which we were standing was one of the highest and most exposed points along that particular stretch of coastline. From our elevated position we were able to look back over miles and miles of undulating countryside.
Everywhere we looked we saw the same thing - inky black skies swarming with alien activity. Like deadly beetles, bugs and ants crawling hungrily over a plate of sugary food, the silent machines scurried through the darkness, moving like predators from the stripped carcass of one dead village or town and onto the next. The largest ships - the ones with the rounder, more bulbous fronts - occasionally stopped and hung motionless in the air. Then, just like the machine that had passed us on the road a short time earlier, a single searing strip of concentrated incandescent light and energy would pour down on the defenceless land below. All across the visible landscape this was happening. At one point I counted fifteen such ships firing at the ground at the same time and, if they were all destroying crowds of a similar size to the one we’d seen, then I estimated that I had just witnessed the death of well over fifteen thousand innocent people. And that was only what I could see from where I stood.