‘Checkmate,’ he said in a low jittery voice.
The fear in his eyes betrayed the fighting posture that his body had taken. With that, he pushed the silver button on the bottom of the weapon. The long thin spike penetrated the soft flesh and jugular vein of his neck. The aliens took a step backwards, bemused as James’ blood sprayed into the air like a thick red fountain. He dropped hard to his knees. The device was pulled from his neck as his arms lost their remaining strength. They crashed to the grating, his knuckles sliding in the oil and grime as he released the weapon.
The blood finished its rapid spurt, slowing to a sticky stream as it exited the five pence-sized puncture wound. He tried to speak, but couldn’t; all he managed was a series of choking gulps as some of the blood ran down his throat. One of the aliens stepped forward and bent down. It stared into his eyes, fascinated as the dull brown colour became almost black as the life drained from the shell that held them. James fell sideways to the floor. The glimmer in his eyes became frozen in time, dead.
The alien continued to stare at the motionless body, studying it for a short while. It thrust down its arm, thumping its bony fist into the corpse’s head. The jawbone snapped into two pieces, separating from the skull. It was followed by the left eye socket, struck with such force that the eye itself popped from the depressed fracture. It hung from its stalk, laying in a gruesome pose against the icy skin.
Both creatures looked at the blood and bones, mesmerised as the ivory pieces wallowed in the widening red pool. The alien’s chest heaved heavily from the exertion as it regained its breath. It bent down and picked up the silver device that James had used. It held the weapon away from its body, and stared at the bloodied spike. It seemed intrigued as the liquid spiralled down towards the shaft. It pressed the button on the bottom of the steel, tilting its head as the spike speedily retracted. They each gripped an ankle, and proceeded to drag the body viciously out through the door.
Chapter 12: The Last Letter – James’ Story
Thursday 11th April
I am writing this letter as there is not much time left. I hope that one day, if humanity survives, someone in the far future may be able to make more sense of why this has happened. Please forgive me if this is not written well, I am neither scholar nor expert.
The invasion officially began almost four months ago, on December 21st. All of the jokers who had scoffed at every “end of the world prophecy” (myself included), stopped rolling our eyes and started frantically praying.
At 9 p.m. the skies ripped open. Golden swirling patterns, like kaleidoscopes, spun hypnotically around the air. Hurricane-strength winds blew in through the tears as the ships entered the dark stormy skies. Deafening booms thundered through the atmosphere, shaking the ground like enormous earthquakes and splitting the roads all over the city into pieces. The human race came to a standstill that night as we all watched in a state of confusion and awe, but mostly fear.
Television screens all over the world beamed out the images. The Presidents and Prime Ministers of the globe simultaneously spelt out the impending doom of an E.L.E. (Extinction Level Event). Piccadilly Circus was lit up like a Christmas tree, swamped by a sea of human light; the gathering of so many people was like seeing 10 of its New Year’s Eve celebrations all rolled into one.
The British Prime Minister addressed the country, loudly yet nervously. His face was white, drained of all life. I’ll never forget the expression. It was genuinely like that of someone informing another of a relative’s death, except that the death toll was to be potentially 70 million. Unfortunately the broadcasts came too late.
It turned out that the governments of the world had known that the ‘Squawkers’ (this is what we called them due to the horrible screeching sounds that occasionally they made) had arrived two months earlier than when the invasion actually started.
According to our world leaders, along with the now common NASA footage that played on the news 24/7, they had first landed in the Ross Ice Shelf, in Antarctica.
Before it was destroyed, researchers at the McMurdo station (situated on the southern tip of Ross Island) had reported some strange occurrences in the atmosphere. For scientific purposes they had set up some small, simple camera equipment to document their experiments. This, unbeknownst to our invaders, had accidentally caught the moment they landed. Their subsequent activities were soon broadcast to NASA and the Pentagon by the terrified employees at McMurdo.
As we now know, the footage showed a rumbling rent in the skies over Ross Island. This was followed instantly by an enormous bright orange energy field, that engulfed the six massive ships in a dome-like shield. Each machine was at least the equivalent of 20 football pitches. The ships themselves were not your typical disc-shaped crafts that one expected. Four of the giant machines were silver hexagonal crafts that were lit in a series of blinding white and amber lights. The other two were dark grey and rectangular, and covered in spiked weaponry. It seemed to NASA that the hexagonal ones were the “transporters”, or “living quarters” that held the mechanics and scientists of their race. The remaining two, they theorised, were the military warships. These contained the soldiers for their security, and overall invasion plans.
This shield measured around 20 miles long and five miles high; it looked almost like liquid lava. The fizzy orange streams arced themselves like running water into the white icy sky before spreading outwards. It was a magnificent sight. The experts suggested that the South Pole and its magnetic field may have had something to do with why they landed on the Ice Shelf. They argued that because the South pole is cooler than the North pole, it aided them climatically in terms of their survival. This possibly gave them some clues to the origins of the grey Squawkers.
The film also showed some of the researchers from another nearby station, the Scott base. They managed to get close enough to the shield, and film portions of what was happening through the hazy, orange energy. The grainy camcorder footage showed the Squawkers building thousands more ships and weaponry, War of the Worlds style (for future reference: War of the Worlds – a novel by H.G. Wells).
We quickly saw their power as the skinny, seven-feet tall grey humanoid monsters went about their business. It was disturbing seeing and hearing these creatures. Their large black eyes and slits for mouths bore all the hallmarks of hardened invaders from any Hollywood science-fiction movie. It was frightening getting fleeting, shadowy glimpses of them, let alone their horrific instruments of war.
One of the female researchers within the group attempted to push a steel bar through the shield to test its security and scientific properties. Judging by their upbeat curiosity, I believe they thought that she would receive a small static jolt of electricity. Sadly though, the otherworldly energy disintegrated the bar into ashes, including her right arm up to her shoulder. The group watched helplessly as the charcoal dust scarred the crisp white ice. Shortly after, they were all violently caught and cruelly executed. After that happened every effort possible was made to communicate with the Squawkers, but all efforts were ignored.
Helicopters and fighter jets were constantly sent to protect the skies and surrounding lands. This included our own media invaders who threatened to stumble on to the events. The Americans even set up some small military bases on Ross Island, themselves housing soldiers and scientists. They were ordered to collect as much information as possible, still always cautious of the fate that had befallen the previous researchers. They managed to gather two months worth of their own footage, though they failed in its attempts to learn anything really significant in terms of defeating them.
The leaders of the world had chosen to keep all of this a secret, in order to contain the mass levels of public panic and hysteria. Looking back on it now, I can completely understand and sympathise with their decision. The global governments had spent two months trying to come up with every imaginable solution for ensuring the survival of the planet and the human race. But as I said, it came too late; there was just simply
not enough time. What would have been the point in telling us two months earlier anyway? At least millions died instantly, pain-free when the attacks came. We realised later that they were the lucky ones.
The 21st December, 9.00 p.m. was when the skies opened in a thunderous succession of tears in the space fabric. Thousands of flat triangle-shaped fighter ships, (NASA physicists agreed that they were transported through the same wormholes from Antarctica) three times the size of our jet fighters, spewed into the air all over the major cities of the world. These were followed by massive warships, similar to our own Naval Battleship aircraft carriers, except at least five times bigger. Even now, as I cast my mind back it seems weird watching machines of that magnitude, floating effortlessly through the dazzling gold that lit up the night sky.
We were initially and naturally curious as these warships hovered, positioning themselves over every historical and important landmark of our time. This all changed within the hour as the Antarctica footage hit the Internet, going viral as the coordinated attacks began immediately all over the globe.
Our militaries managed to put up a small resistance. They even had some new weapons to use that were built especially in preparation for the assault. These were merely toys in comparison. Much of the advanced machinery that the aliens had built came straight out of any 21st century science-fiction novel. From hovering tank-like machines, to weird creations that looked like giant metal grasshoppers with laser cannons. Then there were the water machines. These jumped in and out of the oceans, swimming like giant mechanical fish, and these were only a few of what they had built in Antarctica. The invisible bridges that extended from their ships and to our homes were the most chilling devices though. These allowed the creatures to abduct us from our lives, taking us out like the trash. It was disturbing to watch as people of all ages were marched out to the “carriers”, for what purposes besides food, we still don’t know.
It seems that they built their weapons here not only for convenience (the experts at NASA reckoned it was because their wormhole technology may have been limited), but were also built specifically to combat the terrains, properties and different military elements of our world. Experts concluded that the Squawkers had studied all life on the planet. They agreed that they had designed their machines accordingly, to mimic the characteristics of certain insects or animals that best benefitted them when hunting their prey. In this instance the “prey” being us.
Our brave heroes were virtually all incinerated from the skies before dawn. Fighters dropped out of the sky like fiery flies as black smoke engulfed the early morning air. Battleships and warships were sunk like heavy stones in a rippling pond, crushed silently by the pressure as they fell to the bottom of the oceans. Missiles and rockets didn’t even make a dent on most of the enemy machines. We didn’t stand a chance.
The ground armies fared no better in their wars. Millions of soldiers, from all military walks of life, littered the streets like forgotten garbage. Defeat thickened the atmosphere, it was horrendous. Then came the news and video footage reported from around the world, and their respective fights.
Huge monuments of human endeavour were shattered in the blink of an eye. After all, most countries still only tolerated each other for personal or political gain. Though seeing the Eiffel tower in Paris turned into great falling chunks of scrap metal, well, that did force a tear in many a man’s eye. Brazil’s “Christ the Redeemer” statue in Rio was burnt to dust, which brought thousands into the streets in mass prayer. These were the first landmarks to go, others quickly followed.
Those who survived the initial invasion were swiftly rounded up like cattle. They were lined up in the streets and obliterated to ashes for the whole world to see. This included children of all ages, wiped from the face of the Earth as though they had never been born. The only ones to survive seemed to be the elderly. If you were over seventy, you were led away. We were never sure why. Again, experts suggested that the elderly were deemed not a threat, and taken away to be used as food, but again this was never proven.
I never knew what happened to my family. The initial attacks caused millions of tonnes of debris to block the streets and roads across the entire city. Large sections of the motorways were destroyed instantly. We think that this was because they wanted to cut off any means of escape, to prevent the population of London from seeking sanctuary outside of the city.
I chose to get out from my rented flat in Shepherd’s Bush within two hours. I don’t know where my flatmates were at the time, or if they are even still alive (Steve Broomfield and Jenny Carter), but I pray that they are safe somewhere.
After seeing the smoke climbing high from the Shepherd’s Bush tube station, half a mile away, I chose a different route. It was heart wrenching, exhausting as I clawed and fought my way through the screaming human traffic. It had become just as dangerous on land now as it was in the skies.
It took several hours, but I managed to survive the trek amidst the attacks and the rioting. I made it to my parents’ house the following night in Burnham, Buckinghamshire. Their street, Coalman’s Way, and most of the adjacent estates, had been demolished. I tried to help frantic old neighbours and friends search the rubble for our families after the initial attacks had quietened, but as far as we could dig we found nothing. I never knew if they managed to survive the first wave of attacks or not.
As for my sister, Kelly, I have no idea if she escaped. I think she was on the underground at the time of the invasion. She had texted me earlier in the day about a gig she was going to that night in Covent Garden. A group of teenagers had told me that most of Liverpool Street underground station had collapsed in on itself. Hopefully she made it out in time, but she hasn’t contacted me since, so I’m assuming she’s dead.
Of the military personnel who managed to escape the onslaught, most made it underground into the sewer systems. There, they formed alliances and small resistance groups in an attempt to survive. We were glad of their efforts as they helped us to get organised. Their experience and knowledge turned our groups (who mostly consisted of lost loners like myself) into small armies and operations. Without them we would have been dead inside of two weeks, especially when the ground invasions began.
Those who managed to escape the onslaughts in the skies, and then the ground invasions, and who didn’t manage to find us underground were deemed the walking dead. The Squawkers sprayed the oceans, rivers and crops with chemicals unknown to man. These killed everyone and everything who dared to drink or eat from them. Add to this the stench and the disease that followed as the millions of the dead began to decompose, it wasn’t pretty. The Squawkers seemed to delight in any form of death that the human race suffered. It didn’t matter to them, except that they wanted every death to be the worst, most horrific case that they could conceive. Even those, who by some miracle managed to evade all these obstacles, eventually turned on each other for what food and clothing remained (rumours of cannibalism were rife, but personally I never saw any evidence of this). Nothing survived up top on land.
We always had small glimmers of hope knowing that the world’s leaders were hidden away somewhere in their secret bunkers. We prayed that they were with the top military brasses, planning their big offensives, and our overall survival.
The military even brought in psychic mediums in an effort to telepathically read the minds of any captured enemies. Confidence was high when they said they could drag vital intelligence on any attacks from the creatures, or at least find out why they were here. It failed miserably. Other glimmers soon faded as we found out that the wormholes the Squawkers used were not only for their ships and weaponry, but also for themselves. They could transport any number of their race to any part of the world, anytime they wanted.
This was particularly soul destroying on the day last week when all hopes were finally lost. The world collectively exhaled, as every television set that still worked broadcast what is left of the news channels.
Military units of Squawk
ers had been transported to a minority of secret government bunkers around the world, including us, Great Britain, and the United States of America. There we watched, transmitted all over the world live by these sadistic invaders, the sickening execution of our Prime Minister. This was swiftly followed by the most powerful man on the planet, the President of the United States of America. Slain in the streets, left like dog’s shit in the gutter, our leaders and spirits were crushed. I fear it is only a matter of days now before the rest of the world’s leaders are rounded up and forced to share the same fate.
As for the Royal Family? I can only assume that they were shipped out to their safe bunkers the day that the aliens had landed in Antarctica. I did hear that Princes William and Harry were involved in our country’s offensive. It was said that William led squadrons of jet fighters during the many dogfights in the skies, while Harry had his own battalion that fought hard on the ground. If they are still involved, or even alive, I don’t know.
Because of these intrusions we now have to be even more alert as they can appear at anytime, anywhere. We place down tin foil and talcum powder in areas of our sewer hideouts not frequently used. These are rigorously checked for strange footprints and markings several times daily. It has proved effective at knowing if the Squawkers have entered our safe houses at any point. This gives us the chance to sweep for any technology not recognised by human eyes. We have to do this as they constantly use bugs in the hope of learning vital intelligence concerning the bigger resistance groups. If we find any we move on, but they are not stupid. Again, this simple test won’t last, but for now it gives us a slight peace of mind, however small.
All over the world there are whispers of these resistance groups, though our numbers deplete rapidly by the day. It is thought that there are only around 1.5 million humans left on the planet, we are a dying breed. Every couple of days small groups of us go on food and pharmaceutical runs. We search everything from abandoned houses to litter bins, desolate shops to broken down vehicles, all in the hope of finding any nourishment and medicine that we can get our hands on. Even then we always come home minus some of the numbers we went out with. There are always alien scouts, or some form of trap waiting for us. They have destroyed everything in their path, and we still don’t even know why they are here. All we know is that they are intent on our complete annihilation.
Blurred Vision: Seven billion voices about to be silenced Page 20
