by Mick Fraser
She started when she heard a sudden shriek of brakes and looked back to see the SUV coming past the cab rank. She blinked against its headlights, then realised it wasn’t headlights that were blinding her – it was that strange orange light again. No, not orange; golden. It was golden light. She felt pain, hot, searing, and stumbled again. This time she fell at her doorstep – she recognised the porch ornaments: flouncing lions, face-to-face, like a royal crest. She cried out for her granddad, praying he was there, praying he would hear her.
Pain. Light. Pain. Light – and a third sensation, one she had only just been able to identify. Not simple nausea, but inertia. Dizzying, violent, sudden inertia.
Pain. Light. Pain. Light. Motion.
And then darkness…
CHAPTER 5
~A WALK IN THE PARK~
ANGELA AWOKE WITH a gasp, dragging in great gulps of air as though she’d been sleeping underwater. The world felt soft beneath her, warm around her; shakily, she took stock, realising with some surprise that she was home, in her house, in her own bed. Well, on her bed. Tentatively she brushed her cheek, wincing at the stab of pain from the fresh graze.
Not a dream then. So how the hell did she get home? She had a hazy memory of climbing the stairs. Had she passed out?
Her alarm clock was cycling again, and she ignored it, fumbling on her nightstand to find her watch. She tilted it towards a spear of moonlight coming through the gap in her curtains and read the time as 2-ish. She had left the Ferrier almost three hours ago. She stroked her left wrist, found smooth skin and nothing more. No lights, no pain, no travel sickness. So what the hell had that been about? Had she imagined some of it? Maybe she’d taken a knock to the head early on in the scuffle with the homeless guy. Hell, maybe she’d been slipped something in Gus’s bar – it wouldn’t be the first time someone spiked her drink. Either way, she’d managed to get herself home and up to bed. She groaned, the aftershocks of Tia Maria ringing like a drum in her mind. She didn’t have the right head on for this mystery. Tea was what she needed right now. Everything was better with tea.
She swung her legs from the bed and flicked the switch on her bedside lamp, swearing when she remembered the blown bulb. She rose, somewhat shakily, and chanced the wall switch, which worked. In the new light she did some quick reconnaissance. There were scuffs on the knees of her jeans, scratches on both arms, and her hair felt gravelly. Swiftly, she stripped, pulling on a pair of jogging pants, a vest and hoodie. She dragged her hair into a tight ponytail and secured it with a thin, black elastic band.
Making her way downstairs, she half expected to see her granddad in the kitchen. He often stopped in during the early hours when he couldn’t sleep, but the house was empty. Cautiously, she selected a long-handled spatula from her cutlery drawer and used it to flick the switch on the kettle. It came on without exploding. So it was a proximity thing then. Good to know.
When the kettle clicked, billowing out clouds of steam, she prepared a cup of tea in her white Star Wars mug and sat down at the hand-crafted dining table in the centre of the room. She’d taken no more than two careful sips when the door knocked.
She froze, cup halfway to her lips, and almost called out, catching a clichéd who’s there? before it reached her tongue. She placed the cup down on the table and stood, tentatively approaching the kitchen door and the hallway beyond it.
Whoever it was banged again, this time making her start. She flicked off the kitchen light and went to the back door, but a flicker of shadow at the net curtains gave her pause.
“Shit...”
What if it was whoever had been driving the SUV? Who the hell were they? Her granddad hadn’t rung the bell or knocked the door in all the time she’d known him. For a moment she worried something had happened to him and the police or the Social Services had come to tell her, but no. He was in solid health, better off than many men ten years his junior. It wasn’t that. It was the SUV driver. She knew it; somehow she just knew it.
She turned for the stairs, considering that her bathroom window opened onto the shed roof, from which she could reach the neighbour’s yard and garden-hop all the way to the Westchester. Was that a bit extreme? She only had the word of one strung-out junkie to go on. What if they just wanted to talk? Then she remembered the alley – they had run the junkie down like he was nothing. People like that didn’t want to just talk. She swore, made up her mind and swung for the back door – just as the wood around the catch splintered and it burst open with a swirl of cold air.
What stood in the doorway was vaguely human, only it was... too long. Not tall – long, like it had once been a normal-sized person but had been stretched somehow. Everything was bigger than usual, so much so that it had to duck under the door-frame. Its skin was deathly pale, almost translucent, but its eyes caught her full attention. They simply weren’t human – they looked almost mechanical, glowing from within with a faint yellow light.
Gasping, Angela stepped back, feeling the start of panic rising in her gut. She cursed herself out loud, pulled her shit together, grabbed the nearest thing to hand and smacked the intruder across the head with a kettle half-filled with hot water. It wasn’t scolding any more, but the creature recoiled from the impact, making a blind grab for her arms. She ducked, hearing the front door crash open as she snatched her running shoes from beside the back door and threw all her weight against the thing in the doorway, half-toppling it. As she exited the house, the door-frame exploded with a white-hot flash. Burning splinters of brick and wood hit Angela’s shoulder and back, and while most went no further than her hoodie, a few pierced her flesh and she cried out, stumbling.
Regaining her feet quickly, she forgot her plan to head for the pub, instead leaping over her back fence. She landed on something cold and soft and slippery, lost her footing and hit the icy lawn, realising she’d slid on an empty, deflated paddling pool. Rolling to her back, she pulled on her trainers, before scrambling up and heading for the house before her. She was about to knock on the door but stopped, glancing around.
An empty paddling pool, a little girl’s trike in the corner of the yard, a swing-ball pole… She couldn’t endanger a family to save her own skin. She cursed her misguided chivalry and instead headed down the alley between this house and the next, sprinting out onto the road beyond. No one pursued her and she stopped, resting her hands on her knees and taking in great gasps of air to calm herself down.
The SUV skidded around the corner ahead of her, headlights on full beam, blinding. She growled and swore, spinning around and bolting back through the alley, back into the garden with the paddling pool. This time she went right, half climbing over and half going through the shoulder-high hedge.
The air blasted from her lungs as she landed, but she rose quickly, leaping the next fence with a little more grace. Now she found herself in the street again, this time opposite Benjamin Park. The dark trees, usually a threat, a black haven for rapists or muggers, were now inviting, promising shelter, promising somewhere to hide. She heard a shriek of brakes and bolted, sprinting for the shadow-shrouded park – and then her skin began to sting.
Then it began to glow.
Great. All she needed now was some freaky bio-luminescence lighting her up like a damn Christmas tree. She tried to stretch the sleeves of her hoodie, gripping them with her palms in an effort to contain the odd light. Her heart pounded in her chest and her pulse thumped in her ears, making her dizzy. She swung around to race for the trees when she felt herself falling forward, then slammed into the rough bark of a beech trunk. She coughed, spitting expletives into the night. She’d been ten yards away from the trees at least. At least. “That was no blackout,” she said aloud. “That was...”
Instant. It was instant. One moment there, the next here, in a blink. Pain clawed at her and she hugged the tree as though it could hug her back, but she almost forgot the agony completely when she was enveloped by the glare of approaching headlights. The SUV was back.
“Give me a
fucking break!” she hissed, slinking round to the dark side of the beech tree. The car didn’t slow down, and she realised they must have seen her. She also realised that they weren’t stopping. The thing driving was visible from here, and she saw it drag on the wheel, saw the vehicle swing on its front right tire. The strength of the turn was too great, as though the creature was either far too powerful or understood little about driving a car. The SUV flipped, rolling onto its side and tearing a furrow through the mud as it screamed towards her. She dived away as the SUV exploded against the tree in a fountain of sparks and shrapnel. She hit the grass and quickly rolled over, digging her heels and elbows in to propel herself backwards.
The SUV was totalled, almost completely wrapped around the tree, which itself now leaned at an odd angle, half-torn from the ground. The black metal was crumpled like paper, smoking and steaming. Angela watched in horror as a dent appeared in the driver’s side door, then another, before it was suddenly smashed off completely, spinning by her to skid in the mud. The creature from her kitchen unfolded itself from the destroyed seat, its black suit and white shirt somehow clean and unsullied. It was even wearing a fucking Trilby, tilted on one side of its oddly angular head. The other door was similarly removed, and a second figure emerged from the passenger side.
“What do you want?” she shouted, angry now, still backing away as fast as she could. They ignored her, and the driver produced something from a holster under its jacket, a weapon of some kind, long and slim and black, peppered with blinking LEDs.
“Hold. Still,” it said, the words forming a disjointed sentence, like someone reading a foreign language aloud but not understanding the words. “We. Do. Not. Mean. You. Harrrrrrm.”
As the device in its hand beeped, Angela’s arms glowed and pain punched her square in the gut. She was instantly ten feet away, still on her back in the mud; the ground where she had been a heartbeat ago fizzed with cold blue energy as the creature triggered its weapon.
Angela scrambled up and leapt behind a gaudily painted roundabout. She caught the safety rail and it squeaked, barely audibly, but the translucent man swung his head towards her. He took aim and fired. The shot struck the roundabout and tendrils of blue light crawled across the flaking paint. Angela shielded her face, squeezed shut her eyes – and found herself crouched right at her pursuer’s feet. Instinctively, she kicked him in the knee. It should have broken his leg, but instead the limb seemed to bend under the impact, absorbing the force. He looked down, his actions almost robotic. The device vanished under his black suit jacket and he reached down one spindly hand, locking her wrist in a grip as hard and cold as steel.
He lifted her up as though she were a child, turning his head towards his partner. He said something Angela couldn’t understand in a language somewhere between Chinese and German. She struggled against his grip, kicked him in the chest, waist and neck, but he didn’t budge. Bereft of better ideas, she started shouting, as loud as she could, so loud her lungs hurt. The creature regarded her coldly, head on one side, like a dog that had finally caught a cat. The other creature spoke, producing a second device from its jacket. Before it could do anything with it, bright light exploded around the park like frozen lightning, chasing away the darkness as though a ring of floodlights had lit up. There came a sound like a jet engine, and a sudden wind caused the creature holding Angela to stagger, dropping her to the grass. She swung around to run, but stopped, covered her mouth with both hands and said into her palms, “What the fuck!?”.
Above her, low enough to flatten the treetops, its great wings lined with red, gold and green lights, was a vehicle the like of which she’d never seen. It looked almost like a stealth plane, but its body was grey and white. Swirls of colour – greens, blues and violets – churned around it like smoke, and the beak of its nose pointed directly at her. Dumbfounded, she almost forgot her would-be captors – until they opened fire. The projectiles they launched, now bright red instead of blue, had little effect, and the weird plane simply glided sideways slightly before returning fire, unleashing a torrent of green firepower like a Gatling gun. The SUV exploded, a great fireball engulfing the beech and flaring like a huge, angry flower.
As the creatures and the plane continued to exchange gunfire, Angela did what any sane person would do in this situation: she ran.
CHAPTER 6
~INVASIVE MANOEUVERS~
THE JACKDAW SHOOK violently as it lurched sideways. A shelf above the command console emptied, raining tools, capsules and canisters into the cockpit. Drenno swore, kicking out at his co-pilot’s chair.
“Was that a tree, Dizzy?”
The To’ecc grimaced. “I hope so. If it wasn’t we just took out a building.”
Drenno was about to reply when an explosion rocked the shuttle, spraying sparks across the blast-shield. Dizzy pulled the rod to the right, trying to find a better angle. “I can’t see them.”
“Just find the girl!”
“Right.” The shuttle swung, the sound of tortured wood echoing from below.
“And watch the damn trees!”
“Right. Got her.”
“Good. Don’t lose her.” Drenno climbed out of his seat, staggering to the rear porthole as a second blast hammered against the hull. He slapped the shutter controls and the metal creaked and groaned, revealing a skewed view of the surrounding landscape. They were above some kind of recreation ground in a residential area, illuminated by a burning vehicle that had made a bonfire of the nearby trees, pumping smoke and gouting hyperactive flames into the black sky. Of the two Exethan agents, he could see no further sign. He heard Dizzy ask him a question but missed the details.
“I can’t see them, Diz. Where the hell did they go?”
“Captain?” the pilot repeated. “The net? Should I deploy?”
“They can’t just disappear— The net? No! Founder’s blood, we came here to rescue her not cripple her. Get above her, will you?” He swung from the porthole, heading to the opposite side of the ship. “I’ll use the influx.” The side shutter popped open with less protest, and Drenno swore. Beyond the window he located the Exethan ship: it was thirty arms away, coming in fast and hot. Drenno dived for his chair as plasma fire battered the scouter’s hull.
“Evasive manoeuvres, Diz! They’re in the stalker!”
“Aye, sir.” The To’ecc swung the scouter hard to sunwards, gunning the accelerator and yanking hard on the steering rod. Drenno, still in his chair, hurtled backwards toward the command console. The shuttle’s nose swept around, great wings clipping the treetops, snagging a primitive power cable that hissed and crackled and spat sparks in its death throes. As the Jackdaw came to bear, Drenno snarled. “I said evasive!”
Dizzy smiled a reptilian smile as the Exethan ship bared down upon them, face to face. “I heard you!” he shouted, squeezing both triggers and peppering the enemy craft with needles of white plasma. The stalker peeled off, careening towards the roadway below. Drenno grabbed the console as Dizzy straightened the scouter, pulling himself towards the front blast-shield. He saw the girl, a few hundred arms ahead, sprinting down the centre of the road. She wasn’t stupid, but she wasn’t trying to hide either. Glancing left and right, Drenno could see why: these were homes, and inside, innocent people were living their lives. She wasn’t running between the houses because she didn’t want to be followed between them.
The Exethan ship smashed into the hard-packed road, skidding like a skimmed stone before gaining height once more. The pilot hit the accelerator hard, launching the fighter up at a sharp angle before dropping into a sudden dive. Blue and green smoke belched from the engines. Drenno swore.
“They’re not interested in us. Go, Diz! We have to get the girl!”
The scouter shook as Dizzy hurled it over to the left, banking hard and pulling up sharply, attempting to rise above the Exethan ship for a better angle of attack. Blue lights began to flash outside, followed by the sound of sirens, audible through the Jackdaw’s external cameras. “Lo
cal law,” Drenno guessed. “Wrap it up, Diz.”
Dizzy nodded his wedge-shaped head, punching the fuel injector. The shuttle sprang forward, rising above the Exethan vessel. Drenno grabbed the secondary gunner controls and positioned his seat beside Dizzy’s, dragging on the gun-wheel until the crosshairs projected onto the blast-shield lined up with the stalker’s engine column. The command console bleeped twice, indicating a lock, and Drenno fired, hammering volley after volley against the smaller craft’s black hull. After the fourth shot they attempted evasion, but the hull buckled and split, belching green fire and white smoke, unleashing a fountain of sparks into the night. The stalker pin-wheeled away as though struck from below, exploding in a cloud of light and vapour that swiftly dispersed.
The girl was thrown sideways by the force of the explosion, slamming against a stationery vehicle. Dizzy powered the Jackdaw forward, angling towards the ground. Drenno leapt from his chair, racing to the level below. A bank of controls stood beside an iris in the centre of the floor, and he hit a large grey button with the flat of his palm, latching himself to the safety line as the iris snapped wide to reveal the black road racing by below. Drenno’s hat shot off his head and his coattails flapped frantically in the whistling wind.
“An influx isn’t meant to be used in transit!” Dizzy bellowed across the intercom.
“You’ve told me that before!”
Gripping the safety rail with one hand and praying his harness held, Drenno slapped a second button, this one lit by a blue diode. There came the almost comforting roar of the influx then, and a swirl of azure light gathered around the rim of the iris. “It’s open, Diz!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Get above her!”
The Jackdaw banked, one wing dipping, and Drenno was thrown right, inertia lifting him off the ground so that only the harness kept him from flying through the inner hull. The light flared, blinding, and when he heard the repeating buzzer that signalled a successful lift, he swung himself around to kick his heel against the blue button. The iris winked shut, and Drenno hit the floor like a bag of rocks. Various cargo boxes, canisters and containers dropped too, and a disturbing stillness settled on the hold.