by Humza Arshad
As she said the last word, Wendy slapped the flat of her hand against the great metal door. The instant her skin touched its surface the door slid open with a hiss, moving so fast you could barely see it go. It took Wendy by such surprise that she lost her balance and stumbled forward into the room beyond. As she did, every light in the place flickered into life. A cold, blue glow filled the enormous space.
‘Oh my …’ said Wendy.
‘I guess this is it …’ said Umer.
And he was right. This had to be it. The space was huge. Cavernous. An aeroplane hangar filled with beds as far as the eye could see. Row after row, bed after bed, each containing a sleeping man or woman. Dozens of them. Hundreds. It was like some nightmare version of the Ikea warehouse that sold unconscious people as well as flat-pack furniture. Some of the faces I recognized and some of them I didn’t. And, though they were unconscious, the room itself seemed to be very much awake. There was movement everywhere.
Scattered throughout the place, emerging from the ceiling overhead, were dozens of long clear tubes that moved like they were alive. They looked like they could have been made of glass, but somehow they were fluid, flexible. They twisted like tentacles as they swept about the place, whipping from one figure to the next. Each would stop briefly above a bed’s sleeping inhabitant, peering in close for a moment, before racing off to another. They seemed to be observing the sleepers.
As we watched, one of the tubes nearby began to hum. The man in the bed beneath – a chubby little guy with a bushy beard – was stirring slightly. The tube had raced to him, spluttered for a moment, positioned itself directly over his mouth and dropped a jam doughnut into it. The guy chewed it for a moment, swallowed and fell back to sleep.
‘They’re feeding them …’ said Umer.
‘Fattening them up,’ added Wendy.
‘Yeah, and probably keeping ’em asleep too,’ I said.
It was happening all over the room. These weird glass tentacle tubes from the ceiling were dropping little snacks into the mouths of anyone who so much as snored.
‘We’ve got to find Grandpa,’ I said. ‘And quick.’
The others nodded. Without another word, we ran into the enormous room, each heading down a different row. There were so many of them. So many beds and so many faces. The few I did recognize had changed, and it took me a moment to realize how. They were all chubbier. Everyone in the room was ballooning. Their plan, whatever it was, was clearly working. The whole town was getting fat.
I saw an old man in a bed nearby and raced to his side. But it wasn’t Grandpa. I realized I recognized him though: Mr Singh from the greengrocer’s. It was definitely him, but he was almost too big for his turban now. I spotted another old guy a few beds away, but on closer inspection he turned out to be a woman (must have been a tough life, fam). I kept looking.
Bed after bed, row after row. No Grandpa. I began to worry that maybe he wasn’t here. Maybe they’d got rid of him already – or had they taken him somewhere else? Maybe I was too late.
I looked up to see how Umer and Wendy were getting on, and that’s when I saw him. He was maybe twenty beds away, fast asleep and snoring. I’d have barely recognized him. He must have put on three stone. His wrinkles had stretched tight, his sunken cheeks had filled in and his belly stood out so far he looked like he might have been expecting a whole litter of Grandpas. What had they done to him?
‘Grandpa!’ I said, grabbing him by the shoulder. ‘Wake up, man!’
The others must have heard me because they ran over to join us.
‘Grandpa!’ I said again, and tried carefully to peel open one of his eyes.
I was worrying he might be out cold and that we’d have to try to carry him out of here when he suddenly gasped for air. His eyes bolted open and he looked right at me. For a second everyone froze. Then his mouth spread wide into a familiar snaggletoothed grin. This wasn’t the grin of any alien slug person. It was Grandpa. We’d found him in time.
‘The holidays?’ he croaked. ‘You worked it out?’
‘We did!’ I shouted as I hugged him. ‘We found the travel agent’s. I saw the photos.’
‘I knew you would …’ he said, closing his eyes.
‘Uh-uh!’ I said, shaking him. ‘Wake up, Grandpa. We’re gonna get you out of here!’
Grandpa opened his eyes again, raising his head a little. The smile returned to his face. But, in that same moment, one of the glass tubes appeared out of the darkness overhead, racing down towards us. We all froze. The tube stopped, just inches from Grandpa’s head, and began its gentle hum. It was feeding time. I looked up just in time to see a doughnut plummet down the shaft towards Grandpa.
‘Get away from him!’ I said, and slapped the tube with the back of my hand. The falling doughnut missed Grandpa and bounced on to the floor. The glass tube reacted almost like a person might, pulling back in surprise. For a moment it seemed almost to be watching me, working me out.
Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, it whipped away into the darkness. For a second or two nothing happened.
‘That was close …’ I said, a little too soon.
The blue lighting of the room faded to deep red. A dull, distant alarm began to sound. Uh-oh.
‘We need to move now, Grandpa!’ I shouted.
‘I can’t,’ he replied. ‘Look …’
I looked down to see that his arms were bound to the bed frame with some pretty serious-looking metal manacles.
‘Ah, man,’ I said, trying to prise them open with my fingers. They wouldn’t budge.
‘Humza,’ came Wendy’s voice, her hand on my shoulder. ‘We have to go.’
‘I’m not leaving him!’ I shouted. ‘Grandpa, can you squeeze out of ’em?’ I asked.
He began to tug his wrists back through the holes of the manacles, and for a moment I thought he was gonna make it. It was so close. But his old thin skin was catching and if he pulled any harder his hands would be torn to shreds. He was stuck.
‘Here,’ said Umer, handing me something from the floor.
‘What?’ I snapped. ‘Why you giving me this, man? I don’t need a doughnut! This ain’t the time for food!’
‘The jam,’ he replied. ‘Use the jam.’
It took me a moment to realize what the hell he was talking about. Then it clicked. The jam was runny! After that, I would never call Umer an idiot again. Yeah, his brain worked differently to mine, maybe even differently to most people’s, but he could see things when other people missed them. And right now he was a genius.
I grabbed the doughnut from him and squeezed it hard, spraying half the jam over one of Grandpa’s wrists and half over the other.
‘Try again, Grandpa. Pull!’ I shouted.
Grandpa pulled. Both arms at once, with all his strength. There was a moment’s resistance, then a pop! and Grandpa’s hands came free.
‘Yes!’ I cried.
‘Help me up!’ he said, and Umer and I each took an arm.
He was dressed in something like a hospital gown, presumably so they could fatten him up without his trousers bursting. He was a little wobbly on his feet to begin with but was soon keeping up by himself.
‘What about everyone else?’ said Grandpa, looking at the rows of other beds.
‘There isn’t time,’ I replied. ‘We’ll have to come back for them.’
I was about to explain to him that this place was all the proof we needed – that now someone would have to listen – when the big metallic door at the far end of the room hissed open. Without a word, we ducked down among the beds. I peered out over the sleeping body in front of me.
Aunties … A dozen of them at least. They began to fan out into the room, hunting for the cause of the disturbance. None of us moved a muscle. If they looked straight at us we were done for. I held my breath. We all did. We had to let them get past us, then we could make a run for it. My heart was racing.
And then I saw them – eyes staring straight at me, just inches from my face
. I came that close to screaming. But it was no auntie. I knew those eyes. Mr Turnbull! He was alive!
Somehow, among all these beds, I’d managed to duck down behind his. He must have been able to see the fear in my face, because he didn’t make a sound. I put my fingers to my lips and made the ‘shh!’ sign. He gave a small sharp nod.
The closest auntie was now just ten feet away. She was looking at each of the sleepers, checking things were as they should be. Now she was within six feet of us. Five. Closer. I could feel sweat running down my brow. No one so much as breathed.
And then she was gone, hurrying away to another bed nearby.
‘Get help,’ whispered Mr Turnbull when she was out of earshot.
‘We’ve gotta get you out of here,’ I told him.
He shook his head.
‘But, sir! We need you! It’s the track. Our track. It’s how we can beat them.’
He looked puzzled.
‘It’s something to do with the frequency of the music – the bass or something. I don’t know. Wendy figured it out. It affects them somehow. Exposes them.’
He was listening, but didn’t speak.
‘I lost it, sir,’ I continued. ‘I lost the laptop. I lost the track. We can’t get it back without you. You have to come.’
‘Humza,’ he whispered. ‘If they catch you none of that’ll matter. You need to run.’
I looked up to check on the aunties. They’d all moved past us now. They were nearly at Grandpa’s bed. When they got there, they’d know he was loose. We had to move.
‘I’ll come back for you, sir, I promise.’
‘I know you will,’ he replied. ‘Now go!’
I was about to turn when he spoke again.
‘There’s a backup,’ he said. ‘If you need it, there’s a copy of the track.’
‘A copy? Where?’
‘Look in my drawer,’ he replied. ‘At the school. A memory stick. You’ll see it.’
And then came the shout. One of the aunties had reached Grandpa’s bed. It was now or never.
‘Go!’ he yelled.
And we ran. I didn’t look back. Not once. I couldn’t.
We were through the metal doors and tearing down the corridor in seconds. I kept an arm round Grandpa to make sure he didn’t stumble in the darkness. He must have been in bed for days now, so was still pretty wobbly on his feet.
Umer and Wendy were already inside the little control room when we burst in through the door. They went first, out the window and into the street, ready to help Grandpa on the other side. I steadied him as he climbed on to the console and wriggled his way out the window. I could hear footsteps in the hallway behind me now. As soon as he was safely in Umer and Wendy’s arms, I pulled myself up and over the window frame.
I felt something grab at my foot as I tumbled out through the window and into the street with a crash, knocking the dustbin over and spilling rubbish everywhere. There was too much adrenalin going through me to feel the fall. I was just glad I hadn’t landed on Grandpa.
We ran back to where we’d left Linda Wang asleep in the car. She hadn’t moved an inch and was snoring away in the driver’s seat. We threw ourselves into the back seat as Wendy jumped in beside her mum.
‘Drive!’ she shouted, slamming her door.
‘Aarggghhhh!’ shouted Linda Wang, looking like she’d been electrocuted. She didn’t pause to ask questions – just wrenched the key in the ignition and slammed down the accelerator. We shot off so fast even my dad would have struggled to keep up.
When we skidded to a halt two minutes later Linda finally stopped screaming.
‘What the heck, Wendy?’ she cried. ‘What happened? Why are you screaming at me?’
‘Mum,’ replied Wendy firmly. ‘I’d like you to meet Mr Khan. You can call him Grandpa.’
Linda turned slowly towards the back seat where Grandpa sat between us in his hospital gown, his hair and beard sticking up all over the place.
‘Hello, missus,’ he said with a little yellow grin.
She stared at him for a moment, as though trying to work out if maybe she was still dreaming.
‘OK …’ she eventually mumbled. ‘I think I’ll head home now …’
‘Sorry, Linda Wang,’ I replied. ‘No can do. We gotta get to the police station, fast.’
She looked at me like she didn’t even really understand the words. I guess she was probably still in shock – you know, with the whole ‘waking up screaming’ bit. Poor old Linda Wang. All she wanted to do was go bowling.
‘Police station?’ she mumbled.
‘Police station!’ all four of us barked at once.
She could see there was no winning this one. She nodded silently, flicking on the indicator, and she pulled away from the kerb.
I slid down in my seat. My heart was still pounding in my chest. We were finally on the right path. Now that we had Grandpa the police would have to listen to us. How could they not?
Just in case you and your mates ever have to go into a police station before your twelfth birthday, escorting an old man who looks like he recently escaped from a mental health unit, intending to convince them that a bunch of aunties from the area are actually alien invaders who have kidnapped hundreds of local residents and are force-feeding them doughnuts in a warehouse downtown – let me give you some advice: don’t bother.
‘Well, well, well … Humza Khan,’ said the officer at the front desk. ‘You know we’ve got a file on you?’
‘Eh?’ I replied, a bit surprised (and maybe a bit excited) to hear this.
‘Vampire lollipop lady, escaped python at Greggs, human eyeballs in the pic’n’mix … Any of these stories ring a bell?’ he said, raising an eyebrow so high it nearly joined his haircut.
‘Ah, come on! Those were genuine concerns!’
‘You’re a time-waster, Khan, just like your old man.’
‘What’s my dad got to do with this?’
‘He’s as bad as you are. He tried to convince me it was an escaped octopus that had been dumping all the Aldi trolleys in Peabody Pond. How do you even come up with this stuff?’
‘Hey, come on – don’t lump me with that guy; he’s got issues. I’m just trying to do the right thing!’
‘By reporting an alien invasion?’
‘I swear! It’s true! Tell him, Grandpa!’
‘It’s true,’ said Grandpa. ‘The aunties are aliens. They make me eat doughnuts.’
It wasn’t the best defence I’d ever heard, but surely this guy had to believe Grandpa?
Nope. Turns out old people and kids get the same rubbish treatment.
‘Are you meant to be in hospital, by any chance, sir?’ the policeman asked Grandpa. ‘Do you perhaps have a wife or a care worker we might call?’
‘No!’ I cried. ‘His wife’s one of them! So’s my mum! Why aren’t you listening?’
‘We swear it’s true!’ said Umer.
‘We wouldn’t lie about something like this,’ added Wendy.
The policeman stared at us all. He had a look on his face that was somewhere between bored, annoyed and confused.
‘Right,’ he eventually said. ‘Firstly, let me be very clear: I don’t believe you. Not even slightly. But I’d not be doing my job if I didn’t send a car out to this warehouse of yours to follow up.’
‘Yes!’ I shouted, and the others began to celebrate with me.
‘Quiet!’ he snapped. ‘I’ll send someone out with you to have a look. But, if I find you’ve wasted my time, there WILL be consequences. Understand?’
‘I swear, you ain’t gonna regret it,’ I told him. ‘They’ll give you a medal for this!’
‘Uh-huh,’ said the desk sergeant, and he reached over to pick up his radio.
We carried on celebrating as he called it in. Finally this would all be over. That guy was gonna feel pretty stupid when he heard what we’d found …
It was impossible. Just … impossible …
‘I don’t understand …’ sai
d Wendy.
‘Are we definitely in the right place?’ asked Umer, looking about.
I couldn’t even speak.
The whole thing, the entire warehouse, it was … gone. Vanished. Just an empty lot; scattered rubble and cracked concrete. No building, no aunties, no beds. Nothing.
The police officers who had been sent along with us were standing next to their car, radioing back to the station. Grandpa was wandering back and forth near the spot where we’d climbed through the window. He was muttering to himself, examining the ground, inspecting fragments of debris. The bin we’d used to stand on was still right there, lying on its side.
‘Can we go home?’ said Linda Wang out of the car window.
‘Just a minute, Mum,’ said Wendy, before turning back to us. ‘What do we do now? How can we convince them we’re not lying?’
‘I … I don’t know …’ I mumbled. ‘I don’t understand … How can a whole building just disappear into thin air?’
‘Not building,’ said Grandpa, walking over. ‘Spaceship.’
‘What?’ All three of us gasped at once.
‘We were never inside a building,’ he said quietly. ‘It was a spaceship all along.’
Grandpa didn’t get long to explain everything he’d seen. The police were insisting on driving me and Umer home – probably so we’d get in maximum trouble with our parents. But in the few minutes we had with Grandpa, he told us what he could.
‘These aliens –’ he said, ‘when they are not aunties, they are slugs.’
‘I know!’ I yelled. ‘I saw one!’
I was so relieved to hear that, finally, someone else had seen one too. ‘It came out of the librarian,’ I continued. ‘I tried to warn people, but no one would listen.’
‘Of course not,’ Grandpa said. ‘It is hard to believe. But these aliens are fattening us up. They need to feed us, feed us, feed us until there is plenty of room inside.’
‘Room for what?’ asked Umer.
‘For them,’ I replied.
‘Mmm,’ said Grandpa with a nod. ‘You need great big round stomach for an alien to live in. Skinny people are no good.’
‘That’s why they picked aunties!’ I gasped, suddenly getting it. ‘No one would suspect a thing if they went around pushing food on people. It’s classic auntie behaviour.’