by Mark Walden
‘There’s got to be more people who weren’t affected,’ Sam said. ‘Just think, if you’ve found this many people already, then there have to be more. It’s a big planet.’
‘Sure, but what good does it do us if there are people like us in America or Australia? We’ve got no way of communicating with them, no way of organising any sort of concerted resistance to the Threat.’
‘So what do you suggest? Should we just hide and hope that eventually they go away?’
‘I’m not saying that,’ Rachel said, frowning, ‘but we do need hope. It’s not enough that we just survive – we need to fight back.’
‘Isn’t that what we’re being trained to do?’ Sam asked.
‘Of course it is,’ Rachel replied, ‘but I do wonder sometimes if we can really make a difference?’
‘Well, four days ago I thought I was the last person on the planet who had free will,’ Sam said, looking her in the eye. ‘I was convinced that I was going to spend the rest of my life running and hiding. Now, in the space of just a few days, I feel like there’s hope again and that maybe we can fight these things. And do you know why I feel that way? Well, it’s because, no matter what happens, I’m not alone any more. None of us are.’
Rachel stopped eating and looked up for a few seconds.
‘Maybe you’re right,’ she said finally, smiling at him.
‘Right about what?’ Jay asked as he sat down next to them.
‘I was just saying that I think that this might be the best chilli I’ve ever tasted,’ Sam said with a grin.
‘Yeah, it’s all right, I suppose. It could do with some meat in it, though,’ Jay said.
‘Here we go,’ Rachel said, rolling her eyes.
‘What? It’s not fair. No matter how many times I ask the Doc, he still won’t let me try to find some cows to bring down here.’
‘The sad thing is, he’s not actually joking,’ Rachel said to Sam. ‘He really has asked.’
‘The Doc’s always going on about dangerous levels of methane build-up in a confined space, but just ask yourself this, if he’s really so worried about that, why are we all eating vegetarian chilli?’
And then Sam did something he hadn’t done for a very long time. He laughed.
6
The next couple of months seemed to pass by in a blur for Sam. At times it felt like his feet had barely touched the ground since he had woken up in the infirmary. Stirling had explained to him early on that every one of them was expected to be useful to the group in some way. It had been clear pretty much from the start that he wasn’t going to be joining Will and Anne in the lab, but there was no way he was going to just help out around the base in some logistical capacity either. He knew exactly where he wanted to be – on the surface Ops Team, and that was exactly where he’d ended up.
The training schedule that Jackson had put together for him had been punishing and relentless, both mentally and physically. He had learned not only how to fight but also when to fight. Jackson spent as much time teaching the Ops Team about the theory of guerilla warfare as he did showing them how to shoot.
‘The most powerful weapon you have is the one inside your skull,’ was what he told them over and over again. They had no chance of winning a stand-up fight against the Threat so they had to fight smart and they had to fight dirty, hitting the enemy and then fading away before they had a chance to retaliate.
The physical training had been exhausting, with workout sessions that were so regular that after a while they all seemed to blur into one. At the same time he was being taught not just how to shoot, but how to field-strip and clean his weapon, or how to plant explosives, or how to make the best use of cover. He had kept asking both Jackson and Stirling for more details about the facility and their knowledge of the Threat, but just as Jay had warned, his questions remained unanswered. He could sense that the others were equally frustrated by this lack of information, but there really was nothing they could do about it. No one was forcing him to stay, as he had been reminded on more than one occasion, but that didn’t change the fact that he was determined to get some answers to the questions buzzing around inside his head.
Now, as Sam stood, assault rifle raised, aiming at the target at the far end of the range, he realised that he was actually starting to feel less like a frightened survivor and more like a soldier, and he had to admit that it felt good. He gently squeezed the trigger and put a three-round burst of fire into the centre of the target.
‘Good,’ Jackson said, ‘but, remember, don’t anticipate the trigger point; a good marksman is always slightly surprised when their weapon discharges.’
Sam gave a quick nod and fired again, putting another burst into the centre of the target.
‘OK, let’s see how you do against moving targets,’ Jackson said, nodding towards a door on the other side of the Ops Training Area. Sam placed the rifle on the rack next to the range and followed Jackson across the room. Rachel and Nat were already waiting for them, both checking their weapons.
‘I see you’ve returned for a little more ritual humiliation,’ Nat said with a smile as Sam approached. ‘Talk about being a sucker for punishment.’
‘You got lucky last time,’ Sam said as he picked his own pistol up. He took one of the small gas canisters from the box on the table and screwed it into the bottom of the grip. The paintball gun felt light in his hand in comparison to the real thing, but for live fire training purposes it was their only real option.
‘OK, enough chatter,’ Jackson said with a slight frown. ‘Rachel and Natalie, you have three minutes before I send Sam in. I trust you’ll make it as difficult as possible for him.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Rachel said. ‘I give him thirty seconds tops from the moment he walks through the door.’
‘Be surprised if he makes it that long,’ Nat said as they both entered the training area.
‘OK,’ Jackson said to Sam as the door closed behind the girls, ‘you’re facing an entrenched enemy that knows you’re coming. What’s their greatest weakness?’
‘Overconfidence,’ Sam replied.
‘Correct,’ Jackson said. ‘Which is something that you can take advantage of. Now, remember what I told you the other day about the secret to fighting an enemy with superior forces? What did Sun Tzu say?’
‘“If you have a superior force, make for easy ground; with an inferior one, make for difficult ground”,’ Sam replied.
‘Good,’ Jackson said. ‘So get in there and make them fight on your terms. Find the difficult ground.’
Sam thought about Jackson’s advice for a couple of minutes and then an idea suddenly occurred to him.
‘OK, ready?’ Jackson asked a few seconds later, looking at his watch.
‘Ready,’ Sam replied.
‘Go,’ Jackson said, pushing open the door to the training room.
Jackson watched Sam enter the training room and then turned towards a narrow staircase leading to a dimly lit room. At one end of the room was a large one-way mirrored window that allowed him to observe Rachel and Nat as they made their way carefully through the maze of training rooms below. The dummy walls were only made of plywood and they had no ceilings, but they were useful for training the Ops Team how to fight in enclosed urban spaces. Jackson heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him and he turned to see Stirling enter the room.
‘Morning, Iain,’ Jackson said. ‘Don’t see you up here very often.’
‘Yes, I know, but I’ve located a possible target of opportunity and I wanted to discuss putting an Ops mission together to go and have a look at it.’
‘No problem,’ Jackson replied. ‘Just let me watch this exercise and then we can talk about it.’
Stirling came up and stood alongside Jackson and looked down at the training area.
‘Who’s in there?’ Stirling asked.
‘It’s Rachel and Nat versus Sam,’ Jackson said, watching as the two girls advanced through another area, covering eac
h other’s backs, in a textbook room-clearing sweep.
‘That seems somewhat unfair,’ Stirling said.
‘They have to learn how to fight when outnumbered,’ Jackson said, ‘because they always will be on the surface.’
‘True,’ Stirling said. ‘Where is Samuel?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Jackson said. He couldn’t see Sam anywhere within the training course.
Suddenly, a purple paintball hit Nat squarely between the shoulder blades, and she reluctantly lowered her weapon and knelt on the floor to show she was out of action. Rachel whirled round and another paintball hit her in the chest. Jackson was still trying to work out where Sam was when a slight movement on top of the lighting rig that illuminated the training course caught his eye. Sam was lying flat on top of the metal frame, with his gun pointing down at the girls below.
‘Clever lad, you found the difficult ground,’ Jackson said. ‘Well done.’
‘Is that allowed?’ Stirling asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘No, but that’s why I like him. He’s a good shot and he’s bright. Not only that, he’s a born leader. Which is exactly what we need right now. He’s ready to go back up top.’
‘Good, because, as I mentioned, I have a job for your team,’ Stirling said.
‘Right, I’ll come and find you,’ Jackson said, following Stirling down the stairs.
Stirling headed out of the Ops Training Area and back to the upper level as Jackson approached Sam, Nat and Rachel who were having a heated conversation.
‘You cheated,’ Nat said, jabbing her finger into Sam’s chest as he grinned back at her.
‘There’s no such thing as cheating,’ Jackson said. ‘There’s alive and there’s dead. You were thinking two-dimensionally. Don’t get horizon focused – an enemy can attack from above or below. Sam, good job. Get cleaned up and then go and get some lunch.’
‘We have located a new alien transmission source,’ Stirling said, looking at the five members of the Ops Team in front of him. Sam, Jay, Tim, Nat and Rachel listened as Stirling began the briefing with Jackson beside him.
‘The signal from that source is extremely unusual,’ Stirling said, ‘and extremely worrying. The reason it is of such concern is that up until now the only Threat transmission source with this kind of power was the main Threat vessel hovering above central London. What I need you to do is find whatever is transmitting this new signal and, if possible, destroy it. We must do everything we can to slow the spread of the Threat’s influence and this may well be a perfect opportunity to do just that.’
‘So we have no idea what this thing actually is?’ Rachel asked.
‘No, not really,’ Jackson replied. ‘Adam and Kate did try to scout the location, but they couldn’t get inside the stadium.’
‘The stadium?’ Jay said. ‘Where is this thing?’
‘Right here,’ Jackson said, pointing at a location on the large map of London that covered the wall.
‘Great,’ Jay said with a grin. ‘I’ve always wanted to play Wembley.’
‘How heavily guarded is it?’ Tim asked.
‘Outside it’s not too bad,’ Jackson replied. ‘Kate and Adam saw Hunter patrols, but nothing worse than that. Inside, we just don’t know.’
‘How much do you want to bet that, whatever this thing is, it’s got a Grendel sitting on top of it,’ Rachel said.
‘It’s a possibility,’ Jackson said. ‘I don’t like to send you in blind like this, so no heroics. Get in, plant charges on this thing if you can and get out. If it’s too well protected, pull out and we’ll try a different approach. OK?’
‘When do we head out?’ Jay asked.
‘Three hours from now,’ Jackson replied. ‘You’ve got until then for equipment and weapons prep and tactical breakdowns. So I suggest we get started.’
Jay carefully pushed the steel hatch open just a few centimetres and peered outside. After scanning the surroundings he turned to the others and gave a single quick nod before heading out. The others followed him into the enclosed courtyard, all feeling the sudden chill of the cold night air. Jay raised his rifle to his shoulder, sighting down the barrel and moved quickly across the courtyard towards the archway leading to the street. They stopped, backs pressed against the archway wall as Jay quickly peeked his head round the corner, checking for any sign of Threat activity. He headed down the street with the others close behind, all moving towards their target as silently as possible.
They arrived at the end of the broad pedestrianised street that led to the entrance of the enormous stadium half a mile away. Overhead, the moon disappeared behind a cloud bank and the street was plunged into shadow. The Ops Team activated their night-vision goggles and proceeded cautiously down the concourse, moving between cover positions quickly and efficiently, just as they had been trained to do. Jay suddenly held up his arm, fist clenched; the silent signal to hold position. A moment later they heard the familiar sound of approaching Hunters. Sam scanned the surroundings, all bathed in the eerie green glow of the night-vision goggles. He spotted a pair of Hunters gliding across the street less than a hundred metres away. He held his breath, watching as they floated out of sight, seemingly oblivious to the team’s presence.
‘OK, guys,’ Jay’s voice whispered in his earpiece, ‘stay sharp, keep your eyes and ears wide open. We don’t want any nasty surprises.’
Jay slid out from behind the fast-food kiosk where he’d been taking cover and continued along the street with the rest of the team close behind. The darkened stadium loomed over them and Sam began to feel the nervous fluttering of butterflies in his stomach. It didn’t matter how intensively he had trained for this, it didn’t quiet the voice in the back of his head telling him that he was walking straight into the lion’s den. He followed as Jay led the way up the long ramp to the stadium entrance, eager to avoid staying out in the open any longer. Sam had expected there to be more patrols, but there was no sign of any Hunters as they approached the top of the ramp. For some reason, that just made him more nervous.
One of the automated turnstiles that once would have checked people’s tickets stood wide open and the five of them passed through one by one and into the vaulted concourse that encircled the stadium.
‘Oh God,’ Nat’s voice whispered in Sam’s ear as they took in the sight that greeted them. The floor of the concourse was filled, as far as the eye could see, with people lying in neatly ordered rows, flat on their backs with their eyes shut. Sam’s mind flashed back to the first night after the arrival of the Threat and the warehouse that was just the same. Suddenly, he saw his sister’s face in his mind, looking just as it had on that night, the last time he had ever seen her.
He shook his head and told himself to focus.
‘OK,’ Rachel said quietly, ‘we all know that there’s nothing we can do for them now. We need to keep moving.’
Jay pulled the handset that Stirling had given him from one of the pouches on his chest and examined the display.
‘OK, on me,’ he said, setting off across the concourse.
They picked their way carefully between the rows of bodies, following Jay as he studied the direction and range indicator, hunting for the source of the transmissions that Stirling had intercepted.
‘Have you seen this before?’ Sam asked Rachel, gesturing at the dormant bodies that lined the concourse floor.
‘A couple of times,’ Rachel said with a frown. ‘This is how the Threat store people who were wiped by the Signal. It’s always large buildings like this – kind of mass dormitories, I suppose. Creepy as hell, no matter how many times you see it.’
‘You can say that again,’ Sam said.
‘The source seems to be inside the stadium itself,’ Jay said, looking up from the scanner and over to one of the numerous gates that led into the central arena.
‘Can I just go on record as saying that this feels all wrong,’ Nat said, looking both ways down the concourse, her rifle raised. ‘If this thing is as important as Stir
ling thinks it is, why isn’t it better protected? This is too easy.’
‘Maybe the Threat weren’t expecting any kind of attack,’ Rachel said. ‘Perhaps they’re just assuming that they don’t need to protect the transmitter.’
‘Hey, I’m not complaining,’ Jay said. ‘I kinda like easy. Come on.’
The others followed as Jay headed through the archway and into the stadium. Sam’s mouth dropped open in amazement as he looked around. The stadium was filled to capacity, every seat taken by dormant Walkers. There was no sound except for the creepy whisper of tens of thousands of people breathing. Below them in the centre of the green rectangle of overgrown grass that had once been the most famous football pitch in England was a black spire, twenty metres high, made up of dozens of huge, angular obsidian shards. Occasional pulses of green light shot across the surface of the spire, sending ripples of light dancing across the grass.
‘I’m guessing that might just be what we’re looking for,’ Sam said quietly.
‘You know, I think you might be right,’ Jay replied.
The five of them walked down the stairs between the sections of banked seating, heading towards the pitch. As they got closer, Sam began to hear a muted, throbbing hum that seemed to be emanating from the transmission spire. The sound was deeply unpleasant, resonating inside his skull and filling his head with a dull ache.
‘What is that?’ Sam asked, rubbing his temples as the sound grew louder and louder the nearer they got to the spire.
‘What is what?’ Rachel asked, looking slightly confused.
‘That sound,’ Sam said. ‘It’s giving me a headache.’
‘What sound?’ Nat asked, frowning. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
‘It’s coming from that thing,’ Sam said, pointing at the black monolith. ‘I can’t believe you can’t hear it.’
‘I don’t hear anything either,’ Jay said, turning and looking at Sam. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling OK?’