Trust (26 page)

        This relentless cull would surely be happening all around the world. If that many people were being destroyed in a matter of seconds, then how many would be killed in an hour? How long would it take for our entire race to be eradicated?

        I grabbed hold of Clare’s hand and tried to move. She stood her ground, transfixed by all that she could see. Her face was full of cold pain and utter disbelief and I could see that she felt as empty and betrayed as I did. Was she wondering which one of the mighty machines had killed her daughter? Was it the same machine that had taken Robert and Siobhan from me? `Come on,’ I hissed, yanking her towards me. Hanging onto Clare with one hand and the heavy sports bag with the other, I tried to sprint away. The grass was waterlogged and I slipped, sending both of us careering down the treacherous, greasy hillside. I couldn’t stop, and I didn’t dare let go of Clare. Out of control we tripped and fell until we reached the bottom of the slope where the ground finally levelled off and we were able to slow ourselves down again. `You all right?’ I wheezed breathlessly as I caught Clare in my arms. I looked her up and down to check that she was okay.

        She nodded and pushed past me and walked down towards where the sea met the land. The grass beneath our feet gradually began to thin and to become more sparse. Soon it had given way completely to the crunching pebbles of the shingle shore. `Made it,’ Clare gasped. `Told you,’ I smiled. `I knew we’d do it.’

        She looked around anxiously. `So where are we? Where are these boats?’

        I looked up and down the length of the dark and desolate beach, shielding my face from the driving rain and sea spray. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I felt confident that we were close to a bay a short distance up the coast where one or two boats were always moored. `This way,’ I answered, pointing up the shingle shore.

        `Are you sure…?’ she began. `Just move,’ I snapped, sensing that we were wasting precious time.

        Together we tripped through the shale and cold waves as we made our way towards a dark and shadowy headland which jutted out into the ocean. As we neared I knew that there was no way we could climb over the massive obstruction. We had little option but to work our way around the side, staying as close to the water’s edge as we dared. I dropped the sports bag and clambered up onto the rocks. Turning back, I hauled Clare up after me. She clung onto the slimy, mossy-covered rocks for dear life and followed me as I began to shuffle around the headland.

        A momentary distraction and I was knocked off my feet by a sudden icy wave that crashed over me, soaking me to the skin and forcing the air from my lungs with shock. In a fraction of a second I was under. `Tom!’ I heard Clare scream. Instinctively I reached up towards where I thought she was and she grabbed hold of my arm. As the water washed away I managed to scramble back onto my feet, frozen, shocked and with salt stinging my tired eyes. Clare pushed me on.

        With my hands numb with cold I carefully felt my way along the precarious rock face. In daylight it might have been easy but tonight, with the wind and the rain and the fear to distract me, every shuffling step took real effort and determination. I could see it in Clare’s face too. When I dared to look back at her I saw that she was struggling to keep moving forward just as I was.

        We slowly rounded the most exposed part of the headland.

        The dark had exaggerated the size of the rocks. `Over there!’ Clare yelled. I looked back again and saw that she was pointing past me. `A boat!’

        She was right. There, just a few hundred yards away, was a small rowing boat. Hardly the fishing boat that I had hoped to see, but I knew that it would do. It didn’t have an engine or a cabin for shelter but it would be enough. With a renewed energy and determination I forced myself along the last few feet of the rock face and then jumped down onto the sandy beach below.

        Clare wasn’t far behind.

        `Nearly done it!’ I yelled, virtually dragging her along the sand. `One last push!’

        Together we ran on, fighting against the bitter gale and icy, spiteful rain. But then it stopped. Like someone had flicked a switch, the wind and the rain just stopped. Dumbfounded, we stood motionless and looked at each other. Bizarre as it seemed, it also began to get lighter. It was still dark, but I was sure that it wasn’t as dark as it had been a few minutes earlier. It wasn’t even midnight. How could it be getting lighter? `What the fucking hell is going on?’ Clare mumbled. `No idea,’ I replied quickly. `Come on!’

        Grabbing her hand again I ran with her to the boat. We threw our bags into the little vessel and began to push it down the beach towards the sea. Now that the wind had died it was quieter. In fact it was too quiet. I looked up and saw that the ocean had suddenly become as flat and calm as a boating lake in summer.

        We ran through the still water until it was deep enough for the boat to float. Clare jumped inside and I continued to push for a little longer until I was sure that we wouldn’t be grounded. I dragged myself up and in and steadied myself as the boat lurched and rocked from side to side.

        The biggest alien ship I had ever seen suddenly appeared on the horizon. Easily ten times the size of most of the other ships, this one was moving slowly and methodically across the water.

        As it moved a steady stream of light trickled down from its immense belly - like a brilliant curtain of energy - and I guessed that it was cleansing the land. The machine seemed to be acting like a cleaner of sorts, burning away every last trace of mankind from the surface of the planet. Although all I could do was guess that this was its purpose, I didn’t want to take any chances. The ship was moving towards us with an ominous speed.

        There was a single oar on the floor of the boat. I grabbed it and began to dig into the water, on one side and then the next, one side then the next. The ship and the curtain of burning light was getting closer by the second. Clare lay slumped at my feet, her head buried in her hands, waiting. I looked up again and dived over to the right. I shoved the oar down and pulled hard against the still water, forcing the little boat to turn and lurch over to the side. Again and again I dragged the oar through the water, watching over my shoulder constantly as the alien ship approached. The curtain of light was now painfully close. For all I knew it would just wash over us but I couldn’t take the chance.

        With the muscles in my arms screaming for me to stop I rowed further and further away. The light passed us by, just missing the end of our little boat by inches. `It’s gone,’ I spat, gasping for breath as I collapsed down next to Clare. She looked up but her face was expressionless, drained of all emotion. I watched the alien craft continue on its way towards the shore.

        A little victory was mine.

        It wasn’t much - it wasn’t anything in the scheme of things - but I had managed to avoid the aliens and get off the mainland.

        For the first time that day I felt almost alive again. It didn’t matter how long we had left, we were still ourselves and we still had some control. It was getting hotter by the minute. I stood up and took off my jacket. A single alien shuttle swooped down over the water just a short distance ahead of us. `Tom!’ Clare screamed. `Get down!’

        I didn’t move. A single little act of defiance which meant everything now that I had nothing. I stood there and stared at the ship which turned and began to fly right towards me. It ducked and bobbed and flew over me just a few feet above my head but still I didn’t flinch. I wanted the alien bastards to know that I wasn’t afraid. They didn’t care about me and I didn’t care about them. I wanted them to know that they’d never be able to control me or frighten me or reprogram me or twist or manipulate me.

        I am Thomas Winter. I will always be Thomas Winter.

        Batter me and beat me and wear me down for a hundred fucking years and I’ll never give up. I’ll never give in.

37

        The Devil’s Peak had always seemed to be a short distance away when I had looked at them from the mainland but, out here on the water, the jagged rocks didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

        The light continued to improve and the temperature continued to rise. By half-past one it felt less like a winter night and more like a gentle summer morning.

        Clare was asleep. With no other distractions I divided my attention between getting to the rocky outcrop and keeping a close watch on the skies overhead. There was still an incredible amount of activity taking place above the countryside that we had left behind. I wondered how many people were left alive there. An hour or so ago I had stood and watched thousands upon thousands of innocent lives being ended in seconds. It seemed possible - no, it seemed probable - to think that the land we were running from might now be devoid of all human life.

        As if to reinforce their complete and unarguable domination of the planet, as I watched the heavens above me I saw countless new ships arrive. Different in shape and size to those I had seen before but somehow still familiar, I guessed that each one would have a specific part to play in the alien’s work to change, modify and mutate the land which I had once called home.

        Clare began to stir. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. `Okay?’ I asked. She shrugged her shoulders. `Suppose,’ she grunted.

        I stopped rowing and sat and watched her. `Sure you’re okay?’

        She nodded, looked at me, and then looked away again. `I’m fine…’ she began. `But…?’

        She took a deep breath and sighed. `What are we doing, Tom?’

        `Making the most of what’s left,’ I quickly replied. `But why? What good is it going to do?’

        I didn’t answer. We both knew that we were just delaying the inevitable. `Where are we going to shelter on these rocks?’ `Joe Porter said that…’ I started to say. `I know what Joe Porter said,’ she interrupted, `you’ve already told me. But what are we going to do long term? What are we going to do for food? Where are we going to sleep?

        There’s nothing there.’ `We’ve got supplies in the rucksacks, that should be enough for a few days at least.’ `Okay so we can eat for a day or two. What next? What if we’re still alive and all the food’s used up? Then what are we going to do?’ `We could fish,’ I said, instinctively and foolishly. `You going to make yourself a bloody rod and sit on top of the rocks fishing are you?’ `If I have to, yes.’ `Oh, come on…’ `What’s the matter with you?’ `What are you going to make this rod from?’ `What?’ `There’s no fucking wood on the rocks. What are you going to make the rod from?’ `Don’t know. I’ll use this paddle if I have to.’ `And if you catch any, how are you going to cook the fish?’ `We’ve got matches, we could…’ `I know that,’ she snapped, `but what are you going to do?

        Burn the fucking boat?’

        She was right but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I picked up the paddle and began to dig deep into the water again. We’d find a way to survive. We had managed so far.

        Joe Porter had been right.

        We eventually reached the rocks and, just as he’d told me, on the farthest side of the largest rock we found a small shingle shore, no more than fifteen feet square. I dragged the boat as far up the shore as I could and wedged the hull between two large boulders.

        Clare and I found a little sheltered area where we could sit and wait together and watch.

        After we had been sitting together for a short while I asked her how she was feeling. She shook her head but didn’t answer.

        By three o’clock that morning it was as light as day. I watched hundreds of alien ships crawling high through the perfect clear blue sky like ants. Hundreds more were working tirelessly close to the surface of the planet.

        I saw more ships like the one that had flown close to us while we had been in the boat. Even though it was light I could clearly see that they were each dragging behind them a brilliant curtain of energy. I saw several of them flying together in slow unison.

        Their purpose was clear. They were cleansing the face of the planet. Burning away the last traces of man. Sterilising the land.

Epilogue

        Over the next nine days Thomas Winter watched the world around him change.

        The morning after reaching the rocks, Clare and Tom watched the sky change colour. The familiar icy blue slowly became tinged with purples and pinks. The atmosphere gradually thinned. By midday on the third day thousands of stars were visible. As the day wore on the sun too changed colour from deep orange to light yellow, to white and finally monochrome grey.

        Over the next three days the tide went further and further out until the water had completely disappeared. Where once there had been cold ocean there was now nothing - just a vast and silent tundra.

        The temperature increased.

        The air became drier and started to taste and smell different.

        On the sixth day every alien ship drifted upwards into the sky and hovered silently at an unimaginable height.

        On the eighth day Tom left the rocks in search of food. He ran across the dry sea bed from the island to the shore. Tired and weak, his fear kept him moving forward.