The Kid Who Came From Space

by Ross Welford

  Iggy shouts into the microphone, ‘Everybody! Listen to me! Now!’

  A hush falls over the room as everyone turns to look, and my heart leaps into my throat.

  ‘No, Iggy, no,’ I want to say, but the words won’t come out. And he wouldn’t hear me anyway.

  ‘Testing … testing …’

  Everybody stops talking to look at the boy standing up there on the pool table with the microphone and the wild red hair sticking out from under his flat cap.

  I hear Dad beside me say, ‘What the …?’ But he doesn’t do anything. I think he’s too stunned.

  ‘This is an EMERGENCY!’ shouts Iggy into the microphone. ‘I’d like everybody to leave what they are doing right now and follow me and Ethan outside.’ He points at me and everyone looks.

  Oh, thanks a bunch, Iggy.

  ‘We have witnessed an alien landing, and she may have the clue to Tammy’s whereabouts.’

  Beside me, Gran mutters, ‘Eee, the little …’ And then she says a rude word which, come to think of it, I have never heard Gran say before.

  I groan inside. The murmuring starts straight away, but people are also really uncomfortable.

  One of the villagers at the back says, in a pretend scared voice, ‘Help! The Martians are coming!’

  But a couple of people turn and glare at him and say. ‘Shush!’

  Iggy’s not put off. ‘It’s TRUE! We think she is somewhere nearby right now, and there’s an invisible spaceship in the old boathouse – you can see it with a laser light!’

  There’s a ripple of nervous laughter.

  Dad is coming towards us, along with Sandra.

  ‘It’s true!’ says Iggy again, sounding more manic. His glasses have slipped down his nose. He can tell that this is not going well. ‘And you have to help us. She’s skinny, and covered in hair, and—’

  ‘It’s your missus, Amos!’ says a voice at the back.

  Laughter and more shushes.

  By now Dad and Sandra are next to Iggy. Dad’s face is angry and concerned.

  ‘All right, son!’ he says gently as he draws level with Iggy. ‘You’ve had your fun.’

  ‘Please help us!’ yells Iggy as Dad reaches for the microphone.

  Iggy dodges out of the way.

  ‘Give me that microphone now,’ says Dad.

  ‘No!’

  ‘And get down from the pool table!’

  It’s madness, and all I can do is watch. Suzy is squawking and flapping. People are laughing – but because it is a child they’re a bit nervous as well.

  Someone says, ‘Buy the kid a beer!’

  Eventually, Dad and Sandra wrestle Iggy off the pool table, snatching the microphone off him and marching him to the door.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Dad says. ‘Out! Take your damn chicken with you as well. And as for you,’ he says, pointing a thick forefinger at me. ‘Was this your idea? I can’t believe this. Why would you DO something like this?’

  ‘I … I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘But … but it’s true!’

  The muttering and laughter continue around us. Dad walks over to me and puts his face close to mine so that no one else can hear. He speaks rapidly, his voice a low hiss of anger and disappointment.

  ‘I have no idea just how the hell you thought that that was going to help. I … I’m speechless, Ethan. I really am. I’m only glad your mam’s not here to see this. With everything that’s happening, how could you even imagine that would be funny?’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be funny, Dad … It … It’s true … I told Gran last night. There’s a website …’ I’m trying not to cry in front of everybody, but the words are coming out as sobs.

  ‘Stop it. Stop it right now.’ He jabs his finger into my chest, hard. ‘You, my friend, will go through to the kitchen, then out the back door and go straight home, where you can think about the damage and hurt you and your mate have caused while I try to clear up this mess. Understood?’

  Without saying anything else because, despite my efforts, I have just burst out crying, I turn away and hurry in the direction he said, feeling shame clinging to me like a smell. I go through the big pub kitchen, and out of the back door which opens on to the car park. Our little house is on the other side of the snow-covered tarmac.

  I’m halfway across the car park when I see Iggy, leaning on our garden gate, his hands in his shorts pockets and Suzy’s head poking out of his jacket.

  Through my tears I still manage to shout, ‘You idiot!’ as I come near, and I stop, facing him. I’m breathing heavily and I’m this close to punching his stupid face. My fists are balled up ready.

  But then we both hear it at the same time.

  A loud hissing, followed by ‘Ee-fan! Ee-fan! Ikk-ee!’

  Well, that changes my mood.

  ‘It’s her!’ says Iggy, and suddenly all my anger and shame vanishes.

  I whip my head around, looking for the source of the voice.

  I hear it again, louder this time, and more urgent. ‘Ee-fan! Ikk-ee!’

  I swallow hard. I turn back towards the pub and take a step before I feel Iggy’s hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Back to the pub! It’s full of journalists and police. And my dad! Exactly what we need.’

  He furrows his brow in puzzlement. ‘What? Because it went so well last time, you mean?’ he says, sarcastically. ‘What are you going to say, exactly?’

  ‘Ee-fan! Ikk-ee! Turn arount. I am ofer here!’

  It’s still only three thirty, but the weak winter sun, shrouded behind thick snow-cloud, has already started fading. In the open car park it isn’t yet dark, but in the woods which come right up to the car-park fence, the shadows are longer and blacker. My heart is pounding as I peer into the dark woods beyond the handful of cars that are there. I wrap my jacket tighter around me. Is she hiding behind one of the cars? Or even in one?

  Iggy detaches his bicycle light and is already striding off towards the trees. I don’t want to be left behind on my own, so I scuttle after him.

  He stops at a gap in the fence and gazes into the darkness of the woods, beyond a sign announcing, Kielder Woodland Walk. I come alongside him, relieved that he has stopped, and try to will him with my mind not to go up the path and into the trees, because I don’t think I have the courage to follow him.

  We wait for the voice to come again. I swallow hard and it sounds really loud.

  ‘How?’ I ask Iggy. ‘How did she know where we were?’

  Then, from behind the biggest tree, about two metres in front of us, appears her hairy face, encircled by the hood of a dark green sailing jacket. We stand, transfixed, as she steps out of the tree’s shadow into the beam of Iggy’s bicycle light.

  I look behind me to see if we’ve been followed, but we haven’t. Suddenly, the pub seems very distant at the other end of the car park.

  I look back at the creature, who takes a step towards us and twitches her large nose. ‘You smell,’ she says. ‘That is how I found you.’

  We both gasp. Iggy drops his light into a pile of snow and it snaps off. Suddenly we’re in semi-darkness and I’m terrified, scrabbling around in the earth and the snow to find the light.

  I start back towards the pub, but Hellyann’s voice is urgent.

  ‘Stop! I tolt you pefore. Do not tell anyone that I am here.’

  We’re disturbed by a sweep of headlights as a noisy vehicle turns into the car park and heads straight towards us.

  I feel myself being dragged into a crouch behind a big grey Land Rover as Iggy grabs my coat collar and says, ‘It’s them. Get down.’

  ‘What?’ I say. ‘Who?’

  ‘Shhh,’ he hisses. ‘It’s the Geoffs. I’d recognise that car’s noise anywhere.’

  I know without turning around that Hellyann is crouched down with us. Her smell really is pretty pungent and I try not to breathe. This is probably a good thing, because every breath we take in the cold air sends up clouds of condensation, which would
reveal our hiding place.

  The Geoffs park their car about ten metres away and when they kill the engine, I hear two car doors open then slam shut, and footsteps in the fresh snow getting closer.

  ‘Look, Dad: there’s one here, and some more there. Look!’

  Some more what?

  Iggy slowly rises up till he can see through the side windows of the Land Rover, which are lightly dusted with snow.

  Geoff Jr says, ‘See that? They’re leading to the Woodland Walk. It’s definitely been here.’

  Footprints! They’ve seen Hellyann’s footprints!

  The Geoffs take another couple of steps closer, and we are hardly breathing now. I think that if my heart beats any harder they’ll hear it.

  I hear the click of a cigarette lighter and, a moment later, the smell of tobacco is followed by a prolonged, juicy cough. The cougher then hacks up a lump of throat matter and spits it. It lands with a splat behind us, while Geoff Senior chuckles and says, ‘Hur-hur, nice one, son! Proper tramp’s oyster, that one.’

  Behind me, Hellyann goes snff snff at the smell of tobacco smoke, and I turn, putting my finger to my lips. She imitates me – perhaps she doesn’t understand what the gesture means. Anyway, she is being quiet – I think she realises that we’re scared.

  The younger man says, ‘Dad? We could be, you know … mistaken. I mean, it was dark and everything.’

  The older Geoff sighs. ‘Listen, son. We know what we saw. The observatory’s got the biggest non-military telescope in the country, and it picked up something in the sky and it wasn’t flamin’ Santa Claus. Not only that but we saw them splashes. We were on the scene straight away, and we saw that … that thing. I tell you – if it hadn’t been for those damn kids …’

  So they had seen her? That doesn’t sound good. Geoff Jr answers his dad with another bout of coughing, then says, ‘But, Dad. If the RAF had picked it up, they’d have been snooping round already.’

  ‘Geoffrey, son. We’ve been through this. Maybe they did see something but ignored it. Maybe they’re waiting to see if it happens again. Maybe they saw nowt, or the fella working their telescope was on his Christmas break. We just don’t know, do we? Thing is, what we saw was worth investigating.’

  ‘Dad? I know you don’t want to hear this but …’

  ‘You’re gonna say we should go to the police, aren’t you? “Notify the authorities?” You, son, have got your mother’s streak of cowardice. We have the chance of earning a fortune as the father-and-son team who captured a flamin’ extraterrestrial, and you want to throw that away? I dunno what’s wrong with you. Imagine the fame, Geoffrey!’

  I suddenly feel bad. What Geoff Sr is describing sounds vain and selfish. But it is very similar to what I was thinking not long ago. Whatever thoughts I am having are scattered when Suzy stretches her neck out. I see it before Iggy and can only watch in horrified silence as she goes bok-bok-bok-baaak!

  Iggy tries to clap his hand over her beak, but it’s too late.

  ‘What the blazes was that?’ I hear Geoff Sr say, followed by the sound of his footsteps as he approaches.

  At the same time, there’s a rustle behind me, and Hellyann is off at a crouching run, heading for the Woodland Walk path.

  ‘Blimey! There it is, Dad – look!’ cries Geoff Jr.

  ‘Let the dog out!’

  I hear their car’s hatchback door pop open.

  ‘Go, Sheba! Go seek! She’s got the scent – look! Go, Sheba!’

  I hear, rather than see, Sheba rush off into the forest followed by Geoff Jr waving a torch, and find myself hoping with all my heart that Hellyann will get away. I don’t have much time to think about it, though, because a second later, Geoff Sr is towering over Iggy and me as we cower in the shadow of the Land Rover.

  ‘You’s two again, eh?’ he growls. ‘I think we need to have a little chat. Gerrin’ me car.’

  Geoff Sr clicks his car key to open it, and the vehicle’s interior lights come on. In the glow, Iggy and I exchange a look.

  I am definitely not about to get into a stranger’s car, even if he isn’t a complete stranger. I am not that stupid and neither, I think, is Iggy.

  But what can we do other than run back to the pub, or to my house? I check out the distance: it’s not all that far, really. He wouldn’t pursue us into the pub, surely, but I really do not fancy going back in there again. What about Gran? Would we be endangering her? All of these thoughts are going through my mind when Geoff Sr says, ‘I am waiting.’

  Iggy gives a tiny shake of his head and a flick of his eyes towards the pub. So, we’ll run for it?

  I have already shifted my weight to my lead foot to start running when, from the woods, comes a ferocious growling followed by a terrible, animal scream.

  ‘Go on, Sheba – get it!’ shouts Geoff Jr.

  ‘Sheba?’ calls Geoff Sr. ‘Geoff? What’s going on?’ He moves towards the woods and then turns back to us. ‘Don’t you dare move!’

  There’s another bout of snarling and a howl of pain.

  ‘The dog’s got her,’ says Iggy, slowly, sounding really sad.

  From the black woods comes an urgent shout. ‘Oh my God! Dad! She’s dead! Quickly!’

  Geoff Sr runs into the darkness, where the light of Geoff Jr’s torch beam can be seen flickering through the branches.

  I really don’t want to see Hellyann’s body carried out. I give Iggy a nudge and we run to the other side of the car park, where we feel safer. Then Iggy stops.

  ‘I want to see,’ he says. ‘I want to see what they do with her.’

  And so we wait by the little gate that leads up our path, not even bothering to hide.

  Something has changed with the Geoffs running into the woods and the screams of Hellyann. Somehow we feel more confident that the Geoffs will not come after us. Besides, I’m only a few metres from my front door.

  Then we see the torchlight bobbing nearer, and two figures emerging from the woods. The fatter figure, Geoff Jr, carries Hellyann’s limp body in his arms.

  Their car headlights flick on with a little bleep, and Geoff kneels down in front of the lights, obscured by the car, meaning we can’t see what he is doing – examining Hellyann’s body, I guess.

  I glance across at Iggy – his face is sad. Then he puffs out his cheeks and shakes his head slowly.

  ‘Dead alien, Tait. This is gonna be huge.’

  I think about the things I saw on YouTube: ‘alien autopsy’, the Roswell incident, Area 51 …

  ‘Hang on,’ I say. ‘Look.’

  Both Geoffs are bending down to pick up the body. They shuffle round out of the headlights, towards the back of the car, one Geoff holding the arms, the other the legs. I think we both notice it together.

  ‘That’s not her!’ I say.

  Geoff Sr lays his end down and opens the hatchback of their car. The shape is obvious in the red glow of the car’s tail lights and we both say it together.

  ‘It’s the dog!’

  We’re too far away to see clearly, but it looks as though Sheba has suffered a massive gash across her throat and down her chest.

  ‘Quit your flamin’ crying, you wet blanket,’ barks the older man to his son. ‘It’s just a dog. Honestly, you’re worse than your mother.’

  The Geoffs heave the dead dog into the back of the car.

  By now our confidence has diminished again, and we have both shrunk back behind a bush by my front gate, although we can still see what’s happening. Geoff Sr slams the car’s hatchback and turns to shout into the forest.

  ‘We’ll be back, you fiend!’ Then he looks towards where we were hiding and shouts, ‘Hey, kids! Not a word, or you’ll pay!’ He goes round to the driver’s door and yells at Geoff Jr. ‘What are you waiting for? Let’s go and get the boss. And put that thing away. It’s evidence.’

  I hadn’t noticed at first, but Geoff Jr has under his arm a black baton – the one that Hellyann used to heal Iggy’s leg. He tosses it into the car then they both ge
t in and speed out of the car park, sending flurries of fresh snow clouding off the car roof and spitting up from the rear tyres.

  I look at Iggy, who has a strange expression on his face.

  ‘Who’s their boss?’ I ask.

  He shakes his head. ‘It’s not a person,’ he says in a monotone. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Eh? He said, “Let’s get the—”’

  ‘Boss. I know. Boss and Company. It’s … it’s a brand of shotgun.’

  Iggy and I run back to where the car was. There are splatters of Sheba’s blood leading from the woodland path, and a small pool of it where they put her down in front of the headlights.

  I think we both know what will happen next, so we stand and wait in the snow for Hellyann to emerge from the woods.

  She doesn’t take long. Her face and hands are covered in blood and there’s a long tear in the sailing jacket. She stays in the shadows.

  ‘Thank you,’ she rasps. Then she adds, ‘Please help me.’ She is trembling. ‘I have neffer kilt anything before. But … it was going to kill me and … and …’ She kind of buckles at her knees and I have to hold her up.

  I stop myself gagging at her smell. I look over at Iggy to try to work out what to do next, and his face is a picture of fear. It’s the blood that does it: suddenly we are aware of Hellyann’s power and we are scared. At least I am.

  I follow Iggy’s gaze. People are coming out of the pub’s side entrance. The press conference has finished. Around us in the car park the cars go bleep bleep and their amber sidelights flash as people unlock them remotely. No one has seen us yet and we’re still in the shadows, but we’re pretty exposed.

  It’s the perfect opportunity to get help!

  ‘No people! No people! Hide me,’ says Hellyann urgently. Her mouth is pulled back, showing her teeth.

  I look at her for a moment. Her face is terrifying and bloody. She has just killed a vicious dog with those teeth. I don’t feel like crossing her.

  ‘Your house?’ says Iggy. ‘Come on, quick!’