Trust

by David Moody

  ‘You know him?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Jim and Eileen’s son-in-law. He’s like us, Tom, he must be.’

  Clare banged on the window and Tom cringed at the noise. ‘Don’t,’ he snapped, still instinctively afraid of drawing attention to where they were hiding. ‘I’ll go. Wait here.’

  He was gone before she could argue. He stumbled downstairs, legs stiff through inactivity, and unlocked the front door. He ran out onto the street but the man had already forced his way into his in-law’s house. He was checking each room in turn, and Tom’s sudden appearance startled him. He had a shotgun, and Tom found himself staring down its barrel.

  ‘Don’t shoot,’ he said quickly, raising his hands.

  ‘Who the fuck are you?’ the man demanded, his desperate face streaked with tears.

  ‘There are two of us next door. You should come and—’

  ‘Have you seen Eileen and Jim?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘Everyone’s gone, mate. It’s the aliens.’

  ‘No shit, fuckwit,’ the man said, pushing past Tom and running upstairs. Tom followed and found him trashing an unmade bed, throwing the duvet and pillows off as if he thought his missing mother and father-in-law might be hiding underneath.

  ‘They’ve all gone,’ Tom said again. ‘Look, why not come back with me and—’

  ‘I know they’re gone,’ the man yelled, marching threateningly towards Tom, who backed into a wall, unable to get away. Suddenly the man’s demeanour changed and his face crumbled. ‘I tried to stop her,’ he said, clearly heart-broken, his words punctuated by deep, painful sobs, ‘but she wouldn’t listen to me. Wouldn’t speak to me. Wouldn’t even look at me. Is that what happened to yours, mate? Did yours all go the same way?’

  ‘That’s what’s happened to just about everyone,’ Tom explained, ‘and there’s nothing we can do about it.’

  Tom looked on helplessly as the man dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed, his cries echoing around the empty house. ‘Come on,’ he said, wanting to give up and go back to Clare, but knowing he couldn’t just walk out on this poor bastard.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ the man asked, looking back over his shoulder at Tom with red-raw eyes.

  ‘There’s not a lot we can do. Just stick together, I guess, and stay safe for as long as we can. They’re not interested in people like you and me. We’re not part of the programme.’

  ‘And what about those they’ve already got?’

  ‘They’re gone,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing we can do for any of them.’

  The man nodded and wiped his eyes. ‘Thought as much.’

  Tom, now standing in the doorway, looked back down the stairs. He could see the open door, and he wanted to get back to Clare. ‘I’m going next door. You coming?’

  ‘Give me a second, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Tom had barely taken two steps down when a single gunshot rang out, filling the house with noise. He kept walking.

  CHAPTER 40

  The light was fading. Clare paced the downstairs rooms of the house. In the short time since Tom had returned from next door, they’d done little but argue. Clare wanted to go out and look for Penny, Tom knew there wasn’t any point. He couldn’t bring himself to spell out why, letting her cling onto the belief that Penny was still alive instead.

  ‘I’m going,’ she suddenly announced.

  ‘Christ, Clare, we’ve been through this. You can’t. It won’t do any good.’

  Her mind was made up. ‘I’ve heard everything you’ve said, Tom, and I know you’re right. It probably won’t make any difference, but I have to try. My daughter’s out there. I should be with her.’

  ‘Even if you find Penny, you won’t be able to help her. She won’t know you. She won’t respond to you.’

  ‘I know that, but I can’t just sit here any longer. Not while she’s out there…’

  Tom was on the verge of telling her about the cull but he stopped and checked himself. She’d probably already worked it out for herself.

  ‘Thing is,’ Clare continued, ‘it’s going to take time, isn’t it?’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘For those bastards to do whatever they have to do to the planet to make it habitable for them. I didn’t watch many of the TV programmes, but I saw enough. Our gravity is stronger, isn’t it? And isn’t the atmosphere supposed to be more acidic than theirs?’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So they’re going to need to do something about it before they move in and occupy us, aren’t they?’

  ‘That’s what Jall said. He called it re-engineering.’

  ‘Chances are it’s going to take a while, even with all their tech. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been sitting here all day assuming the end could come at any minute. It might not. We might still have days left. Weeks… months, even. We should use the time. Get out and find the people who matter, maybe others like us.’

  ‘But the end result’s going to be the same, isn’t it?’

  ‘Probably, but what would you rather do? Are you prepared to give up on her like this? I’m not.’

  Whether it was a clumsy attempt at emotional blackmail, or just something to say in these darkest of moments, Clare’s words struck a chord: what kind of a man would he be if he just sat back and waited to die without even trying to find Siobhan? But then he remembered the condition Rob had been in when he’d left him, and he knew there was no point trying to save any of them. But Clare still believed there was hope, and who was he to tell her otherwise? She was right about one thing; time was all they had left. Maybe they should try to do something with it instead of sitting here like prisoners on Death Row. He tried to think more positively, logically.

  ‘Maybe our best option is to get away from anything man-made,’ he suggested. ‘Jall said the few of us still conscious aren’t a concern to them, so if we stay away from towns and villages and just head out into the middle of nowhere we might last a little longer.’

  ‘Long enough to find Penny?’

  He didn’t think so – still didn’t think there was any point even looking – but he didn’t want to tell her otherwise.

  ‘We should head for the sea,’ he said suddenly. ‘Just water there, no buildings. We might be safer if we can get off the mainland.’

  ‘It’s got to be worth a try. Can you sail?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know where we can find a boat?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Then that’s what we should do. Get away from here, find out where they’ve taken everyone, get Penny and the others, then get the hell away from everything else.’

  *

  They were ready to leave within a few minutes. They worked quickly and quietly together to collect all the food and other useful supplies they could find from around Clare’s little house. Clare cried as she worked, and Tom wondered if she was experiencing the same emotions he had when he’d left his own home for the final time. He thought it must have been even worse for Clare, the pain infinitely more intense. She’d lived here for years and had brought her daughter up in this house too. Her attachment to this place undoubtedly ran deep.

  They managed to fill a rucksack each. As they readied themselves in the kitchen, rain began to clatter against the window. It sounded like someone was throwing stones against the glass. Tom looked out and saw that the clouds were whipping across the skies at different levels and different speeds, almost too fast. It reminded him of the storm he’d been caught out in when the aliens had first arrived. And overhead their ships continued to sail through the atmosphere untroubled. Impervious.

  ‘We should go,’ he said. ‘We’re not going to—’

  His words were silenced by an intense flash of light outside. He thought it was lightning at first, maybe a double-strike, but the longer the light continued, the more obvious it became that this was something else entirely. It was too bright to keep watching, and Tom looked away until it faded again. He wondered if it was
a signal that the invaders were readying themselves to make a long-overdue appearance on the surface of the planet they were claiming as their own. He hoped they were. In some bizarre way he thought that might even the odds slightly. He’d already killed one of them with unexpected ease. Maybe he’d have a chance to take out a few more yet, one for each of the people he’d lost.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked, sensing that Clare was standing right behind him.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she replied, though there was clearly much reluctance in her voice. Before she could dissuade herself, she opened the back door and stepped out onto the patio. Tom had already suggested they should stick to the train track he’d followed to get here – a relatively direct and well-sheltered route which would lead them to the coast. He followed her down the garden and clambered over the fence, stopping only when a number of smaller alien ships whipped through the air just above their heads, much lower than most others they’d so far seen. The wind they left in their wake was intense, and Tom held onto Clare tightly, struggling to stay upright through the sudden gale.

  ‘Keep moving,’ he said when the wind had faded again.

  The ground beneath their feet was boggy, making progress frustratingly slow. The train track was just about visible as a dark black line stretching across the already dark landscape.

  ‘Which way?’ Clare asked. Left would take them towards the ocean, right would lead them straight back to Thatcham. There was a part of Tom that still wanted to go back there. There was still some familiarity in Thatcham – in the shapes of the buildings and the roads if nothing else – and that seemed preferable to just about anything else.

  ‘Away from the village,’ he replied, hoisting his rucksack into a more comfortable position, then scrambling over a low fence and down onto the track. Their pace quickened now that they were able to walk on the sleepers and shingle. Clare made an attempt to stay hidden, but Tom knew there wasn’t any point. There remained some level of alien activity in the sky visible almost all of the time, but apart from the occasional smaller ship which hugged the ground, in the main they continued to operate at dizzying heights. Tom and Clare were of no interest to them.

  CHAPTER 41

  Their initial burst of energy didn’t last long. With only a vague, interminable aim, they both soon began to flag and the effort of the walk increased. At first Clare marched on and set the pace, thoughts of her missing daughter driving her forward. Within the space of a mile, however, the last light of day had all but completely gone and she’d dropped back, allowing Tom to take the lead.

  There was another intense pulse of light in the far distance. Tom turned away and crouched down, waiting for it to disappear. He took his time getting up again, long enough for Clare to catch up. ‘You all right?’ he asked as she drew level.

  ‘Dumb fucking question,’ she replied. ‘Of course I’m not all right. Fucking idiot. How can I be all right when I’ve just—’

  The appearance of another alien ship overhead immediately silenced her. Its absolute lack of noise had taken both of them by surprise, allowing the huge machine to creep up and catch them both unawares. Although it remained hundreds of metres above them, its unannounced appearance chilled Tom to the bone.

  Without needing to speak to one another, they both leant up against the steep embankment until the ship had disappeared. It was gone in less than a minute, but Tom remained on alert, determined not to be caught out like that again. He gently pushed Clare forward. She shook him off and grumbled at his unsubtle intervention.

  ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Can’t be far now.’

  ‘You’ve been saying that for as long as we’ve been walking. There’s no sign of anyone around here, and there’s no way we’ll see anything from down here on this bloody train track. They’re just words, Tom. If you haven’t got anything constructive to say, don’t bother saying anything anymore.’

  ‘Another couple of minutes and we’ll try and get onto the coast road,’ he continued, ignoring her. ‘We’ll have more chance of finding them there.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  He watched her walk on, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. He wasn’t interested in finding anyone, he just wanted to put as much distance as possible between him and the bulk of the aliens. But it was different for Clare. He’d already accepted that the others were lost, but she hadn’t. She was very clearly still clinging onto the faint, fading hope of seeing her daughter again.

  There were more flashes of light, miles behind them this time, lighting up the world like slow-motion artillery explosions. Tom kept walking, shuffling his pack into the centre of his back, then putting his head down and marching. It was still raining and the wind was gusting along the tracks, but the night now felt unexpectedly, almost artificially, warm. He undid the zip on the front of his jacket, struggling with the humidity. Was this something to do with the aliens too? He shook his head and trudged on, sodden boots squelching.

  Clare had stopped again. He pretended he hadn’t noticed at first and just kept moving. Beyond her the railway line seemed to stretch on forever. He overtook but didn’t acknowledge her, just glancing back now and then to make sure she was still there. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be out here anymore. He didn’t want to be anywhere. But what was the alternative? Other than sitting down where he was and waiting for whatever was coming to take him and finish him off, he didn’t have one. A nearby building, perhaps, to get out of the rain? That prospect was no more inviting. He imagined the two of them sitting in silence at opposite ends of a dark and unfamiliar room, nothing to do but wait… For a fraction of a second he thought about turning tail and heading back to Clare’s house or even his own place, but those ideas were dismissed almost instantly. They were closer to the coast than they were to either house now. Pointless. It all felt so fucking pointless.

  ‘What the hell are we doing out here?’ Clare shouted at him, clearly thinking along the same lines. He stopped and looked up. For a few seconds he was distracted by the warmth and the rain and the movement of the clouds overhead. They looked like they were swirling, turning in on themselves and slowly sinking down towards the ground. When Clare repeated her question, virtually screaming at him this time, he forced himself to answer.

  ‘Looking for Penny,’ was the best he could manage.

  ‘We can’t even see where we’re going,’ she said, spitting into the rain. ‘What chance have we got of finding her?’

  ‘More chance than if we’d stayed back at your place, I guess.’

  He looked into her face. She looked drowned, her hair plastered down, water dripping off the end of her nose and chin. He tried to walk on again, not knowing what else to say, but this time Clare stopped him. She grabbed the shoulder strap of his rucksack and pulled him back.

  ‘I just want to see her again,’ she sobbed, her tears mingling with the rain. ‘You understand? Just once more.’

  ‘And you will,’ he lied. ‘Keep yourself together. Keep moving.’ He gently took her hands away and carried on walking. ‘Let’s get up,’ he said, starting to climb the embankment, grabbing handfuls of long grass and weeds to help keep his balance and haul himself up. ‘We’ll see more from up there.’

  Tom looked back from the top of the climb and saw that Clare had hardly moved. He shouted back for her to follow him but kept walking, trudging wearily across a ploughed field. He reached a hedgerow on the far side of the churned mud, but still hadn’t seen her. Eventually she appeared, head peering up over the ridge.

  He waited for her to catch up, using the time to find a way through the tangle of hawthorn and undergrowth which bordered the field. When Clare finally reached him he held back a branch of spiteful, barbed-wire-like thorns and gestured through. She looked down and saw a steep bank on the other side. At the bottom of the bank she could see tarmac.

  ‘Look, a road.’

  ‘So?’ she said, panting with effort. ‘Which road?’

  ‘Not sure. Doesn’t
matter. We’ll find a way down to the sea from here. And there are hills up ahead too. We’ll be able to see for miles from up there. We’ll see the people.’

  ‘You sure about this?’

  ‘As much as I’m sure about anything anymore, yes.’

  ‘I just want to stop now, Tom. I’m cold and I’m tired and…’

  She stopped talking when he wrapped his arms around her. Her body remained stiff, her arms hanging at her sides.

  ‘I’ll go down first,’ he told her. ‘Give me a few seconds, then follow. Okay?’

  He was gone before she could answer. He tried head-first, but the drop was further than it looked. He changed position, getting down on his hands and knees then turning around and reversing through the greasy mud. He held himself steady, his boots hanging in mid-air, not knowing how far a drop it was down to the tarmac. He looked up at Clare as the sky behind her was illuminated by another distant flash of alien light, then pushed himself down. Clare followed. He took hold of her feet and guided her down. The two of them stood together in the middle of the road.

  ‘Recognise anything?’ Clare asked.

  ‘Think so,’ Tom replied, adjusting the increasingly uncomfortable backpack on his shoulders again. He needed to be positive, to try and keep her moving. ‘It’s this way.’

  Tom marched off, hoping he’d chosen the right direction but knowing that it mattered less and less if he hadn’t.

  CHAPTER 42

  Footsteps.

  ‘What’s that?’ Clare asked. It sounded like footsteps, but it was too loud and too orderly… like the stomping of some advancing giant creature, increasing in volume as it came nearer. Tom instantly recognised the sound. This was the noise of hundreds of pairs of feet moving in perfect synchronisation, an unimaginable number of individual movements combining to create a single eerie sound. These were footsteps which were as unnatural and inhuman as the creatures which continued to crawl tirelessly through the skies overhead tonight.