SkyWake Invasion

by Jamie Russell

  “Can we get the lift moving again?” Casey asked Cheeze, jabbing buttons at random.

  “I overrode it to keep you safe,” Cheeze told her. “The Red Eyes are everywhere.”

  “So what’s the good news?” Brain asked, reaching past Casey to hold the button in, then letting go.

  “We found a map of the building in the control room. There’s a hatch in the roof of the lift. If you can get out of it, you should be able to climb the service ladder up the shaft. About a floor and a half above you there’s an air vent. Get inside it and you can crawl through the ventilation system to us.”

  “No way,” Elite moaned from the floor. “I ain’t crawling through no vents.”

  “How sure are you about this?” Brain asked.

  Casey could imagine Cheeze’s shrug from the tone of his voice.

  “Not very,” he said. “But unless you want to stay in the lift, it’s the only option.”

  Casey exchanged a concerned look with Brain. “I’ve got to find Pete,” she said. Then she looked up at the roof, seeing the outline of the hatch set into it. She slung the plasma rifle over her back. “Give me a boost.”

  Casey poked her head through the hatch and pulled herself up. The air was stale and cold. She was relieved to see that there were only a few centimetres between the concrete walls of the shaft and the side of the lift. It meant there was no way to fall. That was something, at least.

  She looked up, following the huge steel cable that held the lift. It stretched into the shadows above her in a giant loop. At regular intervals along the walls of the shaft she could see the metal doors where the lift would stop to let people in and out. A service ladder, little more than some metal rungs embedded into the concrete, ran up one side. She followed its ascent, craning her neck as she peered into the darkness. It went so far up it made her feel dizzy.

  “I’ve found the ladder,” she told the boys as she poked her head back through the hatch. Brain grabbed her hand and she pulled him up. Elite didn’t move. He stayed on the floor, hugging his knees.

  “I can’t do it,” he said without looking up.

  “We’ll help you,” Casey said gently.

  “I ain’t going,” he muttered, rocking backwards and forwards. “No way. Forget it.”

  “We’ll have to just leave him behind,” Brain whispered to Casey.

  “What if the lift restarts? He’ll have no chance against the aliens on his own.”

  “What’s taking you so long?” Cheeze’s voice said, crackling through the control panel’s tinny speaker. “Why isn’t Elite moving? Is he hurt?”

  Casey dropped back through the hatch and crouched down beside Elite. She wished she knew his real name. Calling him by his gamertag seemed like an insult when the normally cocky sniper was now feeling far from elite.

  “Elite, we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

  “I can’t do it,” he whined. His usual bragging confidence had melted away. “When I was little, my gran used to lock me under the stairs for misbehaving. She was fierce, yo. Proper old-school. I can’t stand small spaces no more…”

  He wiped the sleeve of his tracksuit over his wet cheeks, embarrassed. Casey touched his arm gently.

  “I’m scared too. But you know who’s more scared than both of us?”

  Elite looked up at her.

  “My little brother. He’s out there on his own. I need to get to him. But I can’t do it without you.”

  “I ain’t no use to you,” Elite sniffled. “I just can’t do it.”

  Brain stuck his head back in through the roof hatch. We need to be logical about this. If he doesn’t want to come, we can’t make him.”

  “We can’t leave him, either,” Casey snapped. She turned back to the boy in the lift. “The Elite Sniper I know isn’t afraid of anything,” she told him. “He charges into trouble head first, always showboating, always clicking heads.”

  “Yeah, but that’s in the game,” Elite snivelled. “In real life, I get beaten up on the 178 bus by the Year Elevens for spitting second-rate rhymes. Real life ain’t nothing like the game.”

  “Isn’t it?” Casey asked, motioning to the plasma rifle slung on her back.

  Elite buried his head in his knees. “I can’t do it,” he repeated. “Go without me.”

  “Casey,” Brain hissed impatiently from the roof. “We don’t have time.”

  She hesitated, torn. She felt responsible for Elite. He was her teammate. She couldn’t just leave him. But she also knew she had to find Pete – she had to make sure he was safe.

  “You’re not doing it,” she whispered to Elite. His pale, lean face looked up at her. “We’re doing it. Together. That’s what being in a team is all about. We watch each other’s backs. You feel me, bruv?” She held out her hand.

  Elite smiled, despite himself, at her imitation of him. He hesitated a moment then reached out and took it.

  “I feel you,” he said as she hauled him to his feet. “For real.”

  There was a crackle from the speaker in the control panel.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Cheeze’s voice hissed. “You need to get out of there. Now!”

  Before anyone could respond, the lift jolted back into life and started to climb upwards again. Whatever override Cheeze had put in place seemed to have timed out.

  “Quick!” Casey yelled, bundling Elite towards the roof hatch. He jumped and pulled himself up, his trainers kicking the empty air as he wriggled through. Once he was clear, Casey leaped for the hatch, but she wasn’t tall enough to make it through without a boost.

  “Grab my hand,” Brain shouted as he reached down through the hole. Elite appeared beside him and did the same.

  Casey jumped. She missed their outstretched hands. Behind her there was a ping!

  “Doors opening.”

  She took another leap and the boys heaved her up through the hatch. They didn’t even have time to close it before a Red Eye appeared in the now open doorway and stepped inside. His bulky black armour filled the narrow lift compartment and the energy sword in his hand crackled ominously as he looked around.

  Standing on the roof of the lift, Casey and the boys pressed themselves against the concrete walls of the lift shaft. If the Red Eye looked up, he’d spot them. Casey imagined him running his energy sword through the roof of the lift. In the game, the energy blades were perfect for cutting through metal. They could slide right through fifteen centimetres of steel as if it was a sheet of kitchen foil. Her hands tightened around the plasma rifle. Would she even have time to fire off a shot before he skewered them?

  The Red Eye shifted his weight slightly and cocked his head. He seemed to be admiring his reflection in the mirror on the back wall of the lift. Then he adjusted his helmet slightly, grunted and stepped out.

  “Doors closing.”

  Casey looked at the boys and all three of them remembered to breathe again.

  “Just as well we didn’t leave you behind,” Brain whispered to Elite, patting him on the shoulder before turning to Casey. There was new-found respect in his eyes. “That’s the second time you’ve saved us today, Casey Flow.”

  Casey wasn’t listening. All she could think about was finding her little brother. She looked up at the service ladder that stretched into the shadows above them.

  “Let’s keep moving,” she ordered as she reached out to grab the first rung. “And whatever you do, don’t look down.”

  16

  A SHOCKING DEVELOPMENT

  Pete had never been on the eighth floor of the West Point building before, although he’d always wanted to. It was home to a multiplex cinema, a ten pin bowling alley and a gym and sauna. There were even rumours that there was an open-air rooftop pool. Looking around, though, he couldn’t see any sign of it. Maybe it was just a myth.

  There were no shoppers or staff on this floor. The aliens had cleared the place out and turned it into a temporary base. Fixed energy shields, shaped like clam-shells, stood at the top of the
escalators. It looked like the Red Eyes were digging in, ready to stop an attack.

  Perhaps, Pete thought with a sudden burst of hope, the authorities had realized what was happening. Maybe they were about to send in a rescue team. At any moment, SAS soldiers would abseil down the building and storm in and rescue him.

  Pete watched a squad of Red Eyes arming themselves from some purple supply crates containing weapons and ammo. He wasn’t sure how well even the SAS would fare against Arcturian plasma rifles.

  The aliens shoved the captured gamers through a set of double doors marked STAFF ONLY. They led into a service corridor. The gamers marched along it and up a concrete stairwell.

  Trudging up the steps, Pete wondered when Xander was going to act. Despite all his bravado, the YouTuber had yet to actually make a move. Maybe he didn’t have a plan. Or maybe he did and he had simply decided that Pete wasn’t worth including in it.

  At the top of the stairwell, a door opened and the gamers stepped out onto the roof of the shopping mall. On an ordinary day they might have stared in wonder at the impressive urban sprawl stretching out in all directions. But today was no ordinary day.

  Instead, their gasp was prompted by the incredible sight of an Arcturian dropship perched on the roof on its enormous landing gear. It was fully decloaked and its wings stretched over their heads, casting the roof in shadow. Standing there, their necks craning to look up at it, the awestruck gamers looked like visitors to the Sistine Chapel marvelling at its famous ceiling.

  “Whoa!” the video kid whispered, lifting his camera to film it all. “It’s like something out of a … a…” His voice trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

  “A video game?” Pete suggested, overcome by a fit of nervous giggles. They quickly stopped as a Red Eye shoved him hard between the shoulder blades, forcing him onwards with the butt of his plasma rifle.

  As Pete stumbled forwards, he noticed the energy dome surrounding the shopping centre and stretching over the top of the dropship. They were completely sealed inside. Beyond the curve of the dome, three Apache attack helicopters hovered in the sky. They looked like toys beside the dropship.

  The prisoners were shepherded across the rooftop. Two Red Eyes stood on either side of a loading ramp that hung beneath the dropship’s undercarriage, scanning the gamers as they entered. The whole process was slick and efficient. The Arcturians were infamous for their ruthless organization and imperial ambition. Not for nothing did SkyWake players called them the Romans of outer space. They loved rules and order, which was part of the reason why they hated the Squids with their mysterious telepathic powers.

  As the gamers shuffled forwards, Pete saw that they were being kept in their clans. Each team – including Xander and the rest of Strike Force in their distinctive eSports jerseys – was kept separate from the others.

  With a sudden chill he wondered what that meant for him. He was the only one here who wasn’t part of a clan. He was the stray, the spare wheel, the misfit. He imagined the scanners beeping angrily as they ran over his face.

  Reject. Reject. Reject.

  There was a ripple of activity up ahead. He watched as each gamer turned and whispered something to the person behind. Pete realized that a message was being passed along. He watched its progress until it finally reached the boy in front of him. It was the video kid from Strike Force. The lanky boy turned his head and, checking the Red Eyes weren’t watching, spoke quickly over his shoulder.

  “Tell Pete to create a distraction,” he said, then snapped his head back to face the front. Pete nodded and turned around, ready to pass on the message to the gamer behind him.

  “Tell Pete to create a dis—” he began. Then he realized his mistake. There was no one behind him. He was Pete. Which meant it was his job to create a distraction.

  He gulped. The line shuffled forwards.

  Well, he thought to himself, this is your chance to prove yourself.

  He looked around at the Red Eyes on the rooftop. There were four grunts and one hooded overseer. The overseer was the only one without a weapon. Pete reckoned he’d have to be quick to get to him before the grunts had a chance to lift their plasma rifles.

  He paused, letting his brain do the maths. He saw Xander staring at him expectantly. The YouTuber flashed him his trademark “X” with his index fingers.

  Pete nodded.

  This was his moment to show Xander what he was made of. Counting down in his head – three, two, one! – he bent low and made a run for it, charging so close to the overseer that he made the ends of the alien’s long black cloak twitch.

  Then he jumped onto the sloping bank of solar panels, hooting and hollering like a maniac in an attempt to get all the Red Eyes to look in his direction. The overseer tried to grab him but missed, and Pete slid across the panels like a surfer on a wave. Any moment now he expected to hear the sound of the gamers charging forwards under Xander’s command. But there was nothing but silence.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw, with surprise, that no one had moved a muscle. They all just stood and stared at him as if he was an idiot. The overseer reached under the folds of his cloak and pulled out a device that looked like a TV remote control. He pressed a button.

  Bzzzzt! Pete felt his body tense with searing pain. His jaw clamped together and his spine arched backwards as the shackle around his neck pumped electrical energy into him. He hit the floor hard, his body jerking and spasming; the volts ripped through his muscles and nerves. He was completely immobilized. Through his half-closed eyes he could see Xander and the rest of Strike Force looking at him like he was a circus act gone wrong.

  Roll up, roll up to see the amazing electrocuted boy.

  Xander whispered something to his teammates, watching Pete’s agony with his deep brown eyes. The video kid had his camera in his hands, surreptitiously filming it all.

  Pete had wanted to be the hero whose daring bravery would give the others a window to attack. He realized now, as he endured the shock buffeting his body, that he’d been nothing more than a guinea pig. The YouTuber had wanted to see what would happen before he chanced an escape attempt himself.

  Xander had used him.

  The betrayal hurt Pete even more than the shock. He felt the shackle finally switch off and he lay on his back on the cool concrete of the rooftop, groaning and staring up at the dropship above. Dwarfed beneath its wingspan, he felt small and foolish. Casey wouldn’t have been this stupid. She would have seen through Xander’s plan straight away.

  Across the roof, the Red Eye grunts stepped forwards and reasserted their authority over the gamers, shoving them back into line. A couple of them noticed the video kid and advanced on him.

  “Wait,” said the boy, nervously putting down his camera. “It’s nothing. I was just shooting some footage.”

  At the word shooting the Red Eyes raised their plasma rifles threateningly.

  “No!” yelled the teenager. “Not that kind of shooting. I only shoot video.” He sensed they didn’t understand him. “Film – cinema. The magic of the moving image…”

  One of the Red Eyes grabbed for the camera. The video kid dodged his grasp.

  “Just give it to him,” Xander growled at his teammate. “We don’t need it. We’ve all seen what the necklaces do now.”

  “This footage is worth a fortune,” the video kid said, cradling his camera protectively. “Imagine how many hits it’ll get on YouTube. We could make millions.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Xander hissed. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  In a quick movement, one of the grunts knocked the camera out of the boy’s hands, then stomped on it with his heavy black boot.

  The other Red Eye grabbed his collar and hauled him into the air. He held the struggling boy up for all the gamers on the roof to see, turning around in a slow circle, like a magician holding a rabbit aloft before he makes it disappear.

  “Klecht nan pardu,” he told the gamers.

  Pete guessed what
he meant: This is what happens if you try and fight back.

  “Don’t,” squealed the video kid. “Please…”

  Before the boy could finish his sentence, the Red Eye threw him over the edge of the roof.

  There was no scream. No sound at all, in fact.

  The boy was there one second, then gone the next. There was a collective gasp from the gamers. Somewhere in the queue someone started to whimper.

  The overseer held the clicker over his head as if he was about to press it again. Terrified, the gamers fell back into line. Quite a few were sobbing now, the fear and tension of the day’s events catching up with them. The shackles around their necks suddenly felt heavier than ever before. Even Xander looked pale, his easy confidence melting away as he kept his head down.

  Pete, still stunned, felt himself being hauled onto his feet. He half expected to be the next person thrown off the rooftop, but he was shoved to the back of the line instead. He turned to stare questioningly at the overseer. In answer, the alien held up a black gloved hand and slowly counted on his fingers: one … two … three … four …

  Then he pointed at Pete and added one more finger: five.

  Pete realized what it meant. He was now the fifth member of Xander’s squad, the replacement for the video kid. The lasers scanned the COMPETITOR badge around his neck. Casey’s badge. There was a beep as he was accepted. The Red Eyes at the bottom of the ramp waved him on.

  As Pete moved up the ramp into the belly of the alien spaceship, he took one last look at the rooftop behind him, taking in London’s familiar skyline. He wasn’t sure if he would ever see it again. He peered over the edge of the building and saw another rooftop below this one, a lower level that jutted out from the side of the building. In the centre was a swimming pool edged by sun loungers. The afternoon sunlight flickered over the blue water as it lapped back and forth, recently disturbed. Floundering in the middle of it, stunned from his fall but still alive, was the video kid.