2040 Revelations (16 page)

The show’s presenter had a couple of townspeople on and was asking them how they were being affected, discussing things like rubbish collections, postal deliveries and whether the lawn mower would be able to run on chip fat due to the ongoing fuel shortages.

‘—well thank you, Margaret,’ the presenter was saying, ‘for that insight into how gasoline lawnmowers can be made to run on chip oil. And now let’s speak to Dwain and Emma who are outside looking at how you can protect yourself against intruders and rioters who may target your home for wanton looting and mayhem.’

So much for not sensationalising things
, Rebecca thought with a wry smile. The camera switched to a view of the outside where they had a mock-up of a house frontage, complete with door and windows.

‘So, Emma, when the dust cloud sends people a bit ga ga and turns day into a thief’s wonderland, what can you do to protect yourself and the ones you love?’

‘Thank you, Dwain. Well, for a start you need to make sure you have your doors locked and windows shut and bolted even before the curfew has started. Remember daylight hours will no longer be light when the cloud is overhead so treat the day like you would the night. Be wary, as darkness is when criminals like to operate and a permanent twenty-four hour night will make their lives easier and yours more dangerous.’

Emma looked at the camera. ‘But we can help you improve your chances of getting through the coming years in safety and with peace of mind.’ She moved to the entrance of the fake house. ‘First of all we have this super strong nano fibre door frame and brace. Simply fitting behind your door, it acts as an impenetrable barrier to your home if the door itself is breached.’

‘And this will work for the windows as well?’ Dwain said, impressed.

‘Of course,’ Emma replied, ‘the company that produces these anti-intruder doors also provides a wide range of window fittings which do the same job if your window is smashed.’

‘And the price?’ Dwain asked her.

‘It is reasonably cheap at three hundred dollars for the door and fifty to two hundred and fifty dollars per window, depending on aperture size.’

‘Wow, that is reasonable! And we’ll be showing the viewer where they can get these at the end of the programme. What else have you got to show us, Emma?’

‘We have these powerful pepper sprays and high powered catapults for those that don’t have access to guns. They can be very effective at deterring all but the most determined of unwanted visitors.’

‘So what should someone do if they are confronted by a raging mob?’

‘Stay inside and try and frighten them off by whatever means available. Of course there will be a strong military presence on the streets at all times, but there is a limit to how many places they can be at once. If in doubt, hide or run away. You can rebuild and repair a house, but you may not be able to repair yourself.’

‘Wise words, Emma, thank you; and it’s back to you in the studio.’

‘Thank you, Dwain and Emma. We’ll be broadcasting further sets on this topic every day this week, so tune in for more handy tips and tricks to help with your Impact Day preparations.’

Rebecca zoned the TV out and thought about how the care home could prevent getting embroiled in any such problems. The main building itself was secure, but it wouldn’t withstand an assault. It was also in a bad position; it bordered on a large, poor, housing estate located a significant way away from the stores and more prosperous areas of the town.
Not the best place to be
, she thought. They’d had trouble anyway, even as recently as last week when some kids had pelted the building with rocks and bottles. The janitor had scared them off eventually, but some damage had been done and many of the residents had been scared, especially patients like Joseph, who had cried all the way through the incident. It had taken her the rest of the day to calm him back down again.

A beeper sounded in the kitchen, the noise bringing Rebecca back to the present, prompting her to go to the washing machine. She extracted Joseph’s now clean jogging pants and hung them out to dry on an airer. She thought about his camouflage trousers and the nice man at the surplus store and had an idea as to how they might protect the home and the residents.
It will cost
, she reasoned,
but it should work
. She got up, put her coat on and went out, the television still droning on as the door swung shut behind her.

♦

The military surplus shopkeeper, Darren, was shutting up shop. It was four in the afternoon, but with a seven o’clock curfew he needed to shut then in order to get home, get the shopping and do some house repairs. Just as he pulled down the last shutter on the door a pair of woman’s shoes appeared.

‘We’re closing, sorry. Come back tomorrow.’

‘Hello, it’s me,’ said a voice that sounded familiar.

He pulled the shutter back up and saw that it was the woman who’d been in his shop with the simple man earlier that day. ‘Hello, did you forget something?’ he asked her.

‘No,’ she said, her expression determined, ‘but I really need your help.’

Chapter Ten

It had taken Sarah, Trish and Jason the whole day to get back to the Turkish town. Thankfully they had passed a small village on the way, enabling them to take on some much-needed water. Darkness had asserted itself by the time they got to a rundown hotel where Sarah got a room with the meagre amount of money that Carl, the turncoat cum infiltrator, had given her. They traipsed up the wooden stairs and opened the door to the sparse double room. The three of them went in and all but fell down onto the two beds, exhaling great groans of relief as aching muscles were soothed and relaxed.

Since they had worked all through the previous night, followed by the gruelling walk to the village, they all slept until ten the next day. After cleaning themselves up as best they could with zero supplies and only the amenities provided by the hotel, they sat on the beds and discussed their options as to what to do next.

‘Well, I guess by now the site has been stripped clean or is still under guard,’ Sarah said. ‘We might be able to follow them at a safe distance, though, see where they go; maybe even retrieve the bones or some of the relics from the canister.’

‘What,’ Jason said, incredulous, ‘are you thinking of going back there?’

‘Err – yeah. It’s the biggest find of my career, possibly in history,’ Sarah said with real feeling, an edge of anger to her voice, ‘you think I’m going to give it up? Not likely!’

The fact that these military types might be linked to her mother’s death also meant Sarah now had a lead, whereas before she’d had none; it was a stroke of luck delivered within a poisoned chalice, but one she couldn’t allow to slide.
She couldn’t help but blame herself for her mother’s death, although she knew she hadn’t pulled the trigger;
I just loaded the gun
, she thought with bitter remorse.

No, whoever had started that fire – ordered it and planned it – was as culpable as she, and Sarah would not rest until some semblance of justice prevailed; she owed her mother that much at least. Never one to come at something from a single angle, Sarah would also make it her mission in life to expose whoever attempted to cover up the existence of Homo gigantis, be that separate individuals, groups or one big organisation, and prove beyond doubt the existence of this ancient race to the world.

‘All right, but look, Sazza,’ Jason was saying as she refocused to the present, ‘you said it yourself – the area will be stripped if you get back there and we’ll have no kit, not to mention we now have virtually no money to buy any more. If they are still there, what are you going to do if they spot you – and they could well do – overpower them? I don’t think so, somehow. Look what happened to me. These guys are military and top of the pile, by the look of their kit.’

‘And what do you know about military hardware?’ Trish said.

‘I did a stint in the Territorial Army, didn’t I? Besides which, I’ve seen films and programmes, and they looked well kitted out.’

‘I thought the TA was only for a month and then they kicked you out?’ Trish said in accusation. ‘You said you didn’t even get to hold a gun.’

‘Well, yeah, but they had catalogues and stuff. Look, I know they were some kind of elite unit, alright? Cheap hired guns don’t go zooming about in those types of vehicles and with that kind of get up; they had serious money behind them.’

‘He’s right,’ Sarah said.

‘Thank you!’ Jason raised his hand aloft while looking at Trish, triumphant his deduction had been recognised and supported.

Trish ignored him.

‘Did you see that bloke who was with them, that Italian in a suit?’ Sarah asked them. ‘They’ve got to be something to do with the Church.’

‘Church? What church, St Bartholomew’s near your flat?’ Jason said, confused.

‘Not the local church, you donkey,’ Trish said. ‘The Vatican.’ She looked at Sarah for confirmation. ‘You think they work for the Vatican, right?’

Sarah nodded. ‘It ties in with what my group have been saying for years. They keep their eyes open for anyone undertaking small digs, or large ones for that matter, and intervene when necessary. That explains his Italian accent, and the money they’d have behind such a scheme would be huge. Do you know how rich they are?’ Sarah said. She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘They’ve been around for over a thousand years. They’ve stockpiled precious art and artefacts. Destroyed books in their millions and waged war across continents. They predate the banks, stocks and companies themselves.

‘Who do you think invested in the first companies when they began to become powerful? The rich of the day, which included monarchs and – most definitely – the Catholic Church. They probably own some of the big multinationals along with other massive private companies we know nothing about. If there was ever any organisation capable and motivated to cover up this kind of thing, it’s them.’ Sarah slumped onto the bed looking deflated and morose; everything was stacked against them.

‘Perhaps they’ll miss something,’ Trish said. ‘We could just go back and pick it up later when they’ve gone.’

Jason’s snort of derision told her what he thought of that suggestion.

‘Well, have you got a better idea, then?’ Trish said angrily.

He bristled with defiance. ‘I do, as a matter of fact.’

‘And that is?’ she said, as he paused and rummaged about in his trouser pocket.

‘We could try and decipher this!’ He held up a crumpled bit of paper.

‘And what is that, a receipt for the dunce’s hat you bought last week?’ Trish said, her voice scathing.

Sarah sat up and looked at the piece of paper in Jason’s hand. ‘What’s that?’ she said, curious.

He crouched down at the foot of the bed and spread it out for them both to see.

Sarah couldn’t believe it. Jason had somehow got hold of a map similar to those she had found all those years ago, before they had been lost in the fire. It had the same intricate symbols dotted over its surface, although this one portrayed a more localised area rather than covering whole continents. It depicted a coastal land mass which covered nearly half the page, and it looked familiar somehow, but she didn’t know why.

‘I’ve seen this before,’ Jason said.

Sarah frowned. ‘That’s what I was just thinking. But I can’t place it.’

Trish came over to take a look. ‘I think I know why you both recognise it,’ she told them, after studying it for a moment.

‘Why?’ Jason said.

‘Because it’s been on the TV now for what seems like forever.’

They both looked at her with blank expressions.

‘It’s the damn impact zone; it’s the South African coastline, the eastern coast to be more precise.’

Sarah and Jason looked again. ‘She’s only flippin’ right,’ he said in amazement. ‘It’s South Africa!’

‘What I want to know is how you got this out without them finding it?’ Trish asked him. ‘I saw them search you thoroughly; unless,’ – her nose wrinkled in distaste – ‘you stuck it somewhere I don’t want to know about.’

Sarah moved her hands away from the map’s surface.

Jason saw the movement and looked from Trish to Sarah and back to Trish again.
‘What? – NO!’ he said. ‘I didn’t stick it up my arse. Blimey, I think they may have noticed me doing that when they turned up. Hang on, lads; turn around, will you, while I stick this ancient map up my bum hole.’

Trish made a face.

‘So how did you spirit it out of there, then?’ Sarah asked him.

‘You know before they put us in the car I attacked Carl?’

‘Yeah, when he kicked your arse, you mean,’ Trish said.

Ignoring her, Jason continued. ‘Well, I slipped it out of his pocket during the scuffle. That was my intention all along. It was worth it,’ he said, rubbing his shoulder, ‘just.’

‘Oh, Jas, that’s fantastic! I could kiss you. In fact, I will kiss you.’ Sarah got up and planted one on his forehead.

Jason blushed and grinned foolishly while Trish looked on stony-faced. ‘You got lucky,’ she said. ‘What if he notices it’s missing? What then, smart arse?’

Jason’s face dropped a little. ‘He hasn’t, so far, has he? Otherwise they’d be here, now, doing us over again.’ He paused and then looked around, his eyes wary. ‘Unless they’re listening in on us right now ready to strike—’

Sarah and Trish looked at one another in alarm and then peered around the room as Jason tiptoed over to the door, opened it and peeked into the corridor.

‘HOLY SHIT!’ Terrified, he leapt back, making Trish scream and Sarah jump up from the bed.

But when no armed men came swarming into the room Jason shut the door, unable to keep up his pretence any longer. ‘The look on both your faces!’ He pointed at them, in fits of laughter. ‘I almost pissed myself.’

‘You fucking bastard,’ Trish shouted at him and went over and punched him hard on the arm.

‘Ow!’ he said, scowling at her before looking at Sarah. ‘That was a good one, though, wasn’t it, Saz?’

Sarah grinned at him. ‘Yes, very good. I’ll have to get you back for it, though.’