“My name is Millie Fieldgate-Parker. I’m 18 years old and I like cats, squirrels and millipedes. At least I used to. That was a long time ago. Back before the Daleks invaded.
Actually it was probably further back than that. Back when I was at school in fact. When I owned a cat. I never owned a squirrel or millipede though. I just liked them.
Anyway I’m going off on a tangent here.
As I was saying, my name’s Millie Fieldgate-Parker. It’s a double-barrelled name. There’s a reason behind that. My ancestors were two people very much in love and when they married they kept both names. When their baby was born (Alison her name was), a new family was born out of the Parkers and Fieldgates.
It’s a bit of a mouthful but there you go. You don’t choose your name and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There’s a bit of a story attached to myself, actually. No, really. It’s actually quite interesting. Turns out two of my ancestors had special powers – they could manipulate time and space. It sounds crazy, I know, but then I’m descended from a pretty crazy bunch of people.
As a result every one born from that original great great whatever had these powers passed down to them. To be honest I never really bothered to use my powers. They kind of just stayed dormant inside me. Sleeping.
So let’s skip ahead a bit to when this nightmare started. I was 16 and just starting a medical course at college. It was early one morning. I was at work placement at the local hospital and my parents had gone to buy tickets for some band or show or something at the auditorium. That’s when the meteorites came.
One hit the auditorium and killed my parents and everyone else instantly. One hit the front of our house and demolished the entire living room and my parents’ room. I used to curse the auditorium for trying to sell the tickets so early, but then I realised that if they hadn’t left early they still would have died in the house anyway.
This nice bloke with huge muscles rescued me from the hospital – Thor he called himself. He still calls himself Thor actually. He was an LSO (stands for Local Security Officer), and his team took me in whilst I tried my best to help the injured.
Then I found out about my parents.
I was sad. I was distraught. I’d lost my mum and dad. I tried to contact my twin sister to tell her, but she’d left home when we were 14 and hadn’t been in touch since. Carly, by the way, is a little cow. She hated that she had these powers. She resented the entire family for it and cleared off with her dickhead of a boyfriend who, let me tell you, was and still is way too old for her. We never saw her again.
And then the plague came. Just as we were beginning to pick ourselves up people started dying. It was a nightmare. Three quarters of the town caught it. I was lucky. I didn’t catch it, but the world was hit hard.
And then they came. Their flying saucers came out of the sky. They targeted the major cities, absolutely obliterating some places, like Manchester, and leaving other cities standing for them to conduct their experiments in. People were terrified of them. They fled the cities and towns and ran to the countryside. I had no choice. Thor, his team and myself holed ourselves up in a disused factory.
The invaders called themselves the Daleks. They were – and still are – strange, rounded metallic things covered in blue spots. They have weird sink plungers and egg whisks instead of arms, but the egg whisks can kill! I’m not sure what the plungers do, but Thor reckons he saw one suck a man’s face straight off. They scream and shout their orders out all the time and it makes me wonder if there is something trapped inside them wanting to get out.
When they first arrived they took some people as slaves. They executed others and the rest they converted to mindless Robomen.
And that’s how it’s been ever since. Thor and the rest of his team have tried to fight against them. About a year ago I met this bloke who knew a lot about me – his name was the Doctor. He helped me to channel my powers and we blew up one of their flying saucers. But he also told me that I needed to keep my powers hidden. If the Daleks were to find out what I was capable of they’d use me, and I’m definitely not becoming a battery for their invasion force!
And then the Doctor left and we were on our own again. There’s just myself, Peter, Thor, and a handful of LSO’s now, and to be honest I don’t know how much longer we can go on for. I know what the Doctor said, I know, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s time I started using my powers to defeat the Daleks. The Doctor reckons it’ll all be over in eight years, but some of us might not last that long.
Why should I hold back a way to defeat the Daleks just to preserve some predestined end to all of this? Why should I let all those people die between now and then just to preserve some mythical web of time?
It’s a good job I’m not in charge of things, isn’t it? I’d burn out every single one of the horrible little pepper pots from our world forever.
This is our world and we need to take it back.
Eve Walker opened what remained of the raggedy curtains and cleared the condensation from the one windowpane that wasn’t cracked to look outside. She wrinkled her nose – it was raining. Again. It always seemed to be raining these days. The street outside the house was mostly deserted, apart from a couple of Alsatian dogs trotting up the cobbled street looking for any scraps of leftover food.
She felt sad for a moment. She used to own a dog back in London.
She shook away thoughts of Groundhog and headed out of the small cottage living room to the kitchen. She had heated up some water on a portable stove and made herself a very watered down black coffee and one fried egg. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep her going for most of the day. What she lacked in food she made up for in determination.
She then headed upstairs with a pan of boiled water, which she tipped into the sink in the tiny bathroom and gave herself a wash. She turned to look at the mirror and smiled at her reflection before quickly wiping the smile off her face.
She would turn 36 this year. Her birthday was one of the things she still tried to cling on to, not because she wanted to celebrate, but because it reminded her that time was ticking. This invasion had started two years ago. She wanted it to be over before she turned 40. She used that as her motivation, as silly as it sounded.
She tied her long blonde hair back into a ponytail and gave her face a quick clean with a flannel. She wiped any remnants of sleep out of her grey-blue eyes and then breathed out. She stared for a long time at her pale features. She so much wanted to cry. To cry about everything she’d lost. To cry about everything the world had lost. But she couldn’t break down now. She’d had had her months after the meteorites had come to get scared, to panic and to worry, and then she had run through the emotions of fear and bewilderment when the monsters had come. She had done all of that. She couldn’t succumb to them again.
She remembered back to what her friend, Goss, her said to her before they’d been separated the other year. “You keep on fighting. You stay focused. You lose focus and you lose everything.”
She straightened herself up, changed into her combat trousers and grey jumper and then headed downstairs. When she reached the foot of the stairs she heard some gunfire and quickly ran to the window, making sure she kept low.
She couldn’t see anything, but could hear frantic running on the cobbles, followed by a number of heavier boots. They were obviously chasing someone again. She’d have to be careful out there. It would be nightfall soon (she always travelled during the night and slept during the day) and she had a long way to go.
And so she sat and waited with her stuff packed away. She had to get out of here. She was so close now that she could feel the anticipation. Just a little while longer.
“Back from your jaunt?” said Thor, as Millie sat herself down on a beaten up mattress in the corner of the factory hideout.
“Yep. All sorted,” she smiled.
“Planning on disappearing again?” asked the blonde-haired man. She could tell that he was concerned for her well-being.
“Nah. That’s all finished with now. I’ve done what I needed to do.” She looked around the factory floor. “Where is everyone?”
Thor finished eating his cold tin of bins and then threw it in the corner. “Well, Peter’s up on the roof trying to fix the antenna and Roy and the rest are out scavenging for supplies.”
There came the sound of footsteps from an outer corridor and Peter White emerged in the doorway. He was an older gentleman, in his early seventies. He was thin with short white-grey hair and wire-rimmed spectacles. His eyes looked tired, but other than that he looked quite fit for his age.
“Well, it’s finished,” he said, shaking his head.
“Finished?” said Thor, getting to his feet.
“The antenna. It’s completely shot to pieces. That pulse wave from the saucer must have knocked it out permanently.”
Thor half-sighed, half-growled. “I knew they’d get us eventually. Those saucers have been doing sweeps over nearby towns for the last few weeks.”
“What sweeps?” said Millie, feeling a little out of the loop.
Thor headed towards the corner of the room and started rummaging through a backpack. “We’ve heard rumblings of the saucers flying over towns and sending out pulses which wipe out all communication.”
“We don’t know how they’re doing it,” continued Peter, “but it’s making it near enough impossible to communicate with any of the other resistance groups.”
“And now we can’t communicate with our own people out there?” said Millie.
“Exactly,” said Thor. “The saucer came over a few hours ago.” He pulled out an old-fashioned walkie-talkie from his bag and shook his head, throwing it to the ground in anger. “Yep, fried.”
Millie hadn’t seen Thor this downbeat for around a year. A year ago they had made their first move against the invaders and had blown up a saucer. That had sparked on a few local groups to start fighting back and they had hoped word would have gotten up and down the country – maybe even across the world – but they had done absolutely nothing in the past year, save for a few skirmishes with the Robomen.
“Thor, maybe it’s time we moved on,” said Peter, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Moved on to where?” said Thor, shaking his head. “Everywhere we go there’s always going to be the same problems.”
“I know that, but we may find a place where they haven’t been.”
“They’ve been everywhere, Peter,” said Millie.
‘What about that town up north? The one they’re calling Freedom?’
‘Freedom?’ said Millie, with half a laugh. ‘What sort of a name is that?’
‘Apparently there are no Daleks there. None at all. And nobody but the people living there no why.’ Peter shrugged.
‘It’s all just a myth though,’ said Thor. ‘And we don’t have the resources to chase after myths.’ He sat himself down on the mattress and ran his fingers through his long, blonde hair.
Millie put an arm around him and rubbed his back. She hated seeing him like this. He was their rock in this mad world. He was her rock. She couldn’t see him fall apart like this. “Let’s wait for the others to come back, yeah, and then we can see what’s for the best.”
“The others should have been back thirty minutes ago,” said Thor, looking even more concerned. “They were only going a few streets away to raid that frozen food factory.”
“And of course we have no way of communicating with them,” said Millie, feeling Thor’s pain.
There came a crash and a bang from the outer corridor, followed by staggered, hurried steps. The double doors leading to the factory floor burst open and a young man, in his 20’s, with a shaved head and deep-set brown eyes stumbled through the doors. He had blood smeared on the right side of his face and it had stained his dark, combat suit.
“Roy! What happened? Where are the others?”
Peter was at his side with a crumpled plastic cup of water. Roy took a few sips before sitting down on the ground, cross-legged trying to catch his breath.
“Roy!?” said Thor, at his side instantly.
“Give him a minute, James,” said Peter, using Thor’s first name.
Millie smiled. If Thor felt like her big brother then Peter was like a father to the group. He only used Thor’s real name when he made use of that fatherly nature.
Roy caught his breath and then looked up at his leader. “We were ambushed somewhere round Suggitt’s Street. It was a group of Robomen. They were just waiting for us.”
“They must have been monitoring our communications,” said Peter, looking up at the ceiling as if expecting to see the antenna.
“We need to go out there and help,” said Thor, getting to his feet.
Roy grabbed his arm. “It’s a waste of time, Thor. They killed Katy and Ben and took the others prisoner. Me and Sammie got away but Sammie collapsed down Intax Lane. He’d been shot in the back.”
“But we can still rescue the others,” said Thor.
“Then we best be quick,” said Millie. “They’ll already be heading to the saucer pick up point.”
Thor had an idea. “Peter, do we still have that rocket launcher?”
“Yes, but…”
“Good,” said Thor, getting to his feet. “You and Roy get that thing set up on the roof. Millie and I will get to the prisoners, break them out and then when that saucer flies in you shoot it down.”
“We don’t know if the rocket launcher will have any effect, Thor,” said Millie.
“We don’t have much of an option.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” said Peter. “It’ll light up our location straight away. We’ll have to abandon the place regardless. They’ll swarm on us.”
“Then pack up your stuff and get ready to move out. I’m sick of sitting around doing nothing. They’ve gone too far this time. Let’s start resisting again!”
Sam Hasthorpe was lying on the grass. He could feel the sun beating down on his face. There was a gentle lick of breeze on his bare feet and he could smell flowers. He turned his head to look at his wife, a dazzling blonde with piercing blue eyes and a huge, beaming smile. He reached out for her and ran his hand through her soft, blonde hair.
“I love you, Hannah,” he said.
She reached out and touched his face. “I love you too, Samuel.”
There was a rush of wind, the screeching of tires followed by the sensation of heat. Sam sat up quickly, but instead of sitting in a field he was on a flat mattress in a darkened room. He was panting heavily and turned to his side. Underneath a woolen blanket was a woman in her late twenties with dark hair.
“Hannah,” he said under his breath, remembering back to the day his wife had died. It had been two years ago. He and their daughter, Molly, had been in the car heading for a weekend away in the country.
Then the meteorite storm had happened. One of them had hit the back of the car, killing Hannah instantly. An old man –Peter White – had rescued Sam and Molly but that seemed an age ago now.
The horrors that had happened after that day had never gone away.
“Sam?” said the woman, groaning and turning over to look at him. “You okay?”
Sam looked down at the woman, almost with revolt in his eyes, and nodded. “Yeah, Chloe, I’m fine. Just a dream.”
Before he knew it Chloe had drifted off to sleep again. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped out of bed and headed downstairs.
He wasn’t surprised to see his daughter, Molly, sat at the kitchen table with a candle illuminating an old book. She brushed her brown hair out of her eyes and smiled at her dad. It was too much for a fifteen-year-old girl to go through, but he was pleased she was still able to take some pleasure in reading.
“Still up?” said Sam, sitting down opposite her.
“Couldn’t sleep,” said Molly. “I heard you shout out.”
“Just a dream,” said Sam, smiling at her sadly.
“About mum again?”
“The same one,” nodded Sam. “And it’s always the same. The grass and the flowers and the sunshine.”
“And Mum.”
“And Mum.”
“Did you wake her?” asked Molly, glancing towards the wooden staircase.
“There’s no need to be like that, Mols,” said Sam, looking a little embarrassed.
“You know how I feel about her,” said Molly. “You remember what she did to us. To the rest of them.”
“I remember. I haven’t forgotten.”
“She sold all of our friends out to the Daleks,” said Molly, staring her father right in the eyes. “And now she’s living under the same roof as us.”
Sam couldn’t excuse his daughter’s anger. In the year since Chloe had betrayed them, Molly had gone from being an angry teenager sulking that her father was seeing another woman to a teenager who had morals and knew right from wrong. “It was a year ago, Molly. We all make mistakes.”
“Yes, but as far as I can see she isn’t being punished for her mistakes. You and she are back together.”
“We’re not together, sweetheart.”
“Oh, come off it, Dad,” said Molly. “I’m not a little girl anymore. You both share a room together. You’re with her.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven her, and you’ve gotta realize that we’re at war here.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s not a war. Those things are just enslaving us. The human race is on its way out.”
“Don’t talk like that. And besides people do stupid, stupid things, including Chloe, and we have to move on for the greater good.”
“Thanks, Sam,” said Chloe from the top of the stairs, “but Molly’s right. I’ve made mistakes. I need to make up for them.”
“I didn’t hear you up there,” said Sam as she headed down the stairs.
“I can’t sleep. I can never get back to sleep after you’ve had a dream.”
“He was dreaming about my Mum,” said Molly, spitefully.
Chloe smiled at the girl. “I’m gonna make a cuppa. Anyone want one?”
“I want a smoke,” said Sam, getting up from the table, grabbing his last two remaining cigarettes and heading for the kitchen door.
Sam and Molly had left Thornsby straight after Chloe’s betrayal, but Sam had taken pity on her and picked her up before heading into the country to the Water Hills. Chloe’s grandma had owned a house up here and it was as far away from the Daleks as they were likely to get. There was only one house up here and nothing else for miles around. Occasionally Sam would head to Tinford to raid for supplies, but they didn’t eat much.
They were content to just survive. The small house would have looked quite picturesque back in the day, but now it was cold and uninviting. But it was somewhere to stay safe.
Sam leant against the doorframe and lit up his cigarette. He had smoked before he had met Hannah, but she had asked him to stop for the sake of their daughter. The invasion had done funny things to people. He was glad that all he had done was take up smoking again. He looked out at the dark fields and hills in front of him. Somewhere, miles away, the Daleks were busy making plans, taking prisoners and turning people into mindless Robomen. Although they were safe now, he wondered if that would always be the case.
Chloe appeared at his side and touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“You say that every single day,” said Sam.
“It’s because I mean it, Sam,” said Chloe. ‘And I will go on saying it every single day.’ She stood in front of him and he looked down at her. Even without standing on the doorstep he was a good foot taller than her. “I was an idiot. I know that.”
Sam nodded. “I know. I also know how screwed up this world is. It can do things to you.”
“I still shouldn’t have sold everyone else out to them.” She looked down at the doorstep. “They’re most likely stuck at that mine now.”
Sam took another drag on his cigarette and then threw it to the ground. “They’re not.”
She looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I heard they escaped. I don’t know how, but not long after we left that saucer went up in flames.”
“That was a year ago, Sam,” said Chloe, her face a mix of confusion and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you had to let your guilt stay with you. If I had told you everyone was safe you wouldn’t have learnt anything. You’d have gotten a get out of jail free card, wouldn’t you?”
Chloe was angry. She wanted to slap Sam and call him all the names under the sun, but he was right. She deserved it. She felt relieved now, but this year of hell had been her punishment.
He could see she was visibly upset and he put an arm on her shoulder. She closed her eyes. He hadn’t even touched her for over a year now. Not since the night before she had been found out.
“I care about you, Chloe,” said Sam, “but we’re stuck in the middle of the frigging apocalypse. I don’t know where to turn or what to do. I can’t act normal because there is no normal.”
“I understand,” she said.
“And that’s why I can partly understand what you did.” He took his hand off her shoulder. “But when it boils down to it Molly is the most important thing in my life. The only important thing.”
She nodded. She knew she’d never take the place of his long-dead wife, and she didn’t want that. But she knew that people were going to have to try and find comfort from wherever they could now.
She was about to respond when there came a crash from back inside the kitchen. Sam spun round on his heels and then bounded through the hallway to the kitchen. He dropped to his feet. Molly was laid out on the floor. She’d toppled off the kitchen chair and was unconscious.
“She’s got a fever,” said Sam, feeling her sweating brow.
Chloe closed her eyes. She didn’t want to say it, but she’d seen the symptoms before. They all had. “She’s-”
“No,” said Sam, holding a finger up.
“Sam, she’s got the plague,” said Chloe.
To be concluded...
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