THE RED MIST TRILOGY: The Box Set

by R T Green

  The huge black disc was more than halfway across us. I caught sight of the toy rocket a few metres away.

  The ground was quaking so much it was about to topple over.

  ‘Zana!’ I shrieked. ‘The weed-killer; you've got to do it, now!’

  Her head was shaking violently from side to side, manic eyes staring blankly at the disc above her. I grabbed her head to stop it moving, kissed her hard, found the words I needed. ‘I love you… isn't that what all this is about?’

  That seemed to work, she turned and ran to the weapon. As she reached it, it fell over. I joined her, took her hand. ‘It won't stay upright, Madeline,’ she cried. ‘I can't do it.’ She was shaking her head again, the pain and the anguish defeating her resolve.

  ‘Shall I do it?’ I shouted. She nodded, moved away and fell to her knees, crying hysterically. I stood the rocket up, searched for an on button. It fell over again. I looked up, could see the rear of the ship looming closer.

  It had to be now. I found the button. There was nothing else for it, I’d have to hold the rocket steady as it fired. I stretched out on the ground, one hand pressed against the base to keep it upright, my body as far away as I could get it, no idea what it might do to me when it went off.

  ‘Zana!’ I shrieked as my finger pressed the button.

  Like a supercharged roman candle, a streak of light particles blasted into the air, slamming into the belly of the craft a hundred feet above us. Zana turned, saw the pillar of sparks and ran to me, grasped my free hand and held on to it so tightly my fingers went numb.

  For fifteen seconds I lay there motionless. It was like holding a firework, nothing bad was happening to me. Then the light died. ‘It's done,’ Zana cried out, as the ship finally passed over us and the hilltop was bathed in moonlight once more.

  The ear-splitting noise began to lessen. Zana stood up to watch the ship begin to disintegrate. I was about to get to my feet when Carl appeared, automatic rifle in hand.

  He didn't see the truth. All he saw was one of his own lying on the ground, and an alien being standing over her.

  Panic written all over his face, Carl fired the rifle. Ryland Cooper might call him over-excitable and under-intelligent, but he was a very good shot. The bullet thumped into Zana's chest. She crumpled to the ground.

  ‘No!’ My anger and heartbreak boiling over, I flew at the man, pulling Arik's weapon from my pocket. As Carl dropped the rifle and turned to run, I pressed the trigger.

  The gun was spent, it didn't fire.

  But I had another weapon in my armoury. As I caught up with Carl, the cheese-cutter was already in my hands. Blind rage took over, my actions not my own. It only took a second, and then he fell to the ground, his head half severed from his body.

  I ran back to Zana, dropped down next to her and cradled her head in my lap. She smiled, a beautiful smile full of pain and relief. ‘Look Madeline,’ she whispered, her voice hoarse. ‘We did it. There is no danger now.’

  I followed her gaze, saw the giant ship in position right over the city. But it could no longer pose a threat, its once-black body glowing red as its structure dissolved into super-heated dust. The noise was gone, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to make our voices echo.

  ‘Kiss me,’ I heard her say. My tears came, I leant over and our lips met. She felt cold, the red dapples on her face growing darker.

  ‘Please... don’t leave me. Not now...’

  ‘Don't be sad,’ she said quietly. ‘We did good, you and me. It will all be fine.’

  I smiled for her, through the heartbreak. ‘Yeah... we did good.’ My fingers caressed her face softly as I spoke, it made her smile again. ‘And we shared precious memories.’

  She coughed painfully, looked up into my eyes. ‘I like that word, sharing.’

  ‘I know what it means now.’

  She reached up, stroked my face with trembling fingers. ‘You know all about the power of love too. That's the most precious memory of all, Madeline.’

  Her breathing was growing shallow, every intake painful. She was slipping away, and there was nothing I could do. ‘Stay with me, Zana... I’ll get help.’ The words were futile, we both knew it.

  ‘Hold me,’ she whispered.

  She cried out as I gently lifted her upper body against mine. She managed to fold an arm around my shoulder, despite the pain. I held her delicately to me, her body growing colder still, her head resting on my shoulder. And then, in the faintest of whispers, she said her final words.

  ‘Time to say goodbye, Madeline.’

  I felt her body go limp, and watched her beautiful eyes close for the last time.

  I hadn't noticed Ryland Cooper standing quietly close by, allowing me time to say goodbye to Zana in peace. As soon as he realised she was gone, he walked over.

  ‘Maddie…’

  ‘She's dead, Coop.’

  ‘I'm sorry, kid.’

  I lay her body gently on the ground, stood up next to my friend. And then I was hugging him, holding him tight, breaking my heart. He hugged me back, letting me cry it out.

  ‘What am I going to do, Coop?’

  ‘Get your ass out of here, right now.’

  ‘But, Zana…’

  ‘I'll look after her. It’s pretty clear to see what happened here, and your trademark nullification makes it obvious who killed one of our own. You's a wanted woman now.’

  ‘You should be hauling me in.’

  ‘Yeah I should.’

  I held my hands out in front of him, tears still rolling down my face. ‘Then do your sworn duty, Coop. I don't care anymore.’

  The big man slapped them away. ‘Am I hearing you right, girl? That little lady lying there gave her life to save your ass and everybody else's, and now you's just gonna give up?’

  I turned away, forced my eyes to look at Zana's body a few metres away. ‘You always talked sense Coop, but this time you’re not making any. It’s over for me, can’t you see that?’’

  ‘Give me your phone.’

  ‘What?’

  He held out a hand. ‘Give me your phone, I said.’

  Meekly I handed over the DIAL phone. He threw it as hard as he could into the thick bushes a little further down the hill. ‘Now no one knows where the hell you are.’

  I couldn’t believe what he’d just done. ‘I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Coop.’

  ‘Just stay alive. That's thanks enough. You got anywhere to go… as far away from here as possible?’

  I rubbed the tears from my eyes. ‘My dad… he's in Tobago I think. Maybe I'll try and get there.’

  ‘Fuck knows if you'll make it or not; you’re on your own now, Maddie. So get out of my sight... this place will be crawling with sightseers any moment. You's got an hour's head-start before I call Scott and tell him we're a man down. Fortunately for you, that thing in the sky over there is gonna take everyone's attention for a good while.’

  ‘You're a top man, Coop.’

  He shook my hand.

  ‘Nah, I'm just a fucking moron!’

  Ryland Cooper watched, his heart breaking, as Madeline knelt down next to Zana's body, kissed her gently of the forehead, and pulled the red hood back over her head. His eyes followed her as she stumbled, half-blinded by grief, back down the hill and out of his sight.

  He doubted he would ever see her again.

  He struggled over to the body of the girl who had intended to harm the human race, but found love and then saved it from harm. He pulled the hood tight around her face, and turned her a little so no one would see her features.

  Madeline's chances of survival were slim, he knew that. He hoped with every fibre in his body she would make it in one piece. He had felt her pain, a woman who didn't believe she had a heart, but then discovered one. And was finding out that owning a heart also meant it was vulnerable to getting shattered into tiny pieces.

  He shook his head desolately, looked across the hill to the red glowing ship filling the sky with light. And des
pite his pain and heartbreak, a slight smile spread across his face. What he saw was perhaps a poignant tribute to the girl who had given her life to save so many.

  The thick damp mist still shrouding the city was reflecting back the light from the dying ship. It wasn't white anymore.

  Now it was a red mist.

  ____________

  EPISODE TWO: PHOENIX

  THE WATCHER

  ‘Are you sure it’s her?’

  The older of the two women glanced up from the screen built into the console curving around her, a satisfied smile on her face. ‘Oh yes, it is her.’

  ‘Her actions are unexpected though, given what we know.’

  ‘Perhaps. But we are yet to fully understand her; her motivations, her level of commitment.’

  The women turned their gaze back to the images on the screen. ‘The hidden camera is working well,’ the younger one smiled.

  ‘Then we should sit back and enjoy the show. Some refreshments I think, Peroni?’

  The girl stood to do as she was asked. ‘Do we take her now, or wait?’

  ‘We shall wait a little longer. I am convinced she knows more than she is letting on.’

  Alone, the older of the two women settled into the high-backed chair, her eyes transfixed onto the VCR, her hands clasped together with delight and anticipation.

  The journey had been worth it, the search successful, and the target acquired. Now all she had to do was wait, watch the story unfold, and when the time was right, instigate the second part of the plan.

  Her green eyes narrowed, her fingers tightened around each other. The words were whispered, but laden with menace.

  ‘Yes Madeline. You may be enjoying yourself right now, but make the most of it. Soon you will be mine... all mine.’

  Chapter 64

  JOE’S BAR, TOBAGO, THE CARIBBEAN

  The incessant beat thumped into my brain, always there, always loud. It came from somewhere in the background, but it was right inside me. I needed to get away from it, but my legs weren’t cooperating.

  Flashing lights, hurting my eyes, mashing my thoughts to pulp. I didn’t care, they were unwanted thoughts anyway. People; blurry shapes, moving around me. Laughing people, stabbing me through the heart with their happiness.

  I reached for the half-full beer bottle, didn’t quite make it. It tipped over, the contents spilling out across the wooden table.

  What the hell. There were plenty more behind the bar.

  I tried to stand, it wasn’t so easy. Then one of the blurry shapes blocked out some of the lights. A hand, grabbing mine. ‘Hey, pretty lady. You want to dance with me?’

  Oh God. Again? ‘Not interested. Just go away.’

  White teeth, all I could see, grinning inanely out of a dark face, dazzling everything around them into submission. ‘Aw, come on baby. We dance, then maybe you come to my place... dance a little more. I got plenty to offer you.’

  Now I found my legs, stood up and swung a wild punch at the foggy dark shape in front of me. Somehow, it hit the target. ‘What part of fuck off do you Caribbean’s not understand?’ I screamed as he fell flat. The sheer effort of smacking him made me stumble into the table, sending the eight empty bottles to the floor.

  The table was in my way, so I shoved it hard. It crashed over to join the bottles rolling away like skittles. Then I could stand over him, inflict more pain. He sat up on one elbow, rubbed his chin. ‘You crazy white bitch... I ain’t done nothin’ to deserve that.’

  ‘You pissed me off, that’s plenty enough,’ I growled, lifting a foot ready to slam it down hard where it would hurt him the most. I didn’t get the satisfaction.

  Two hands grabbed my arms from behind. I fought to break free, but they’d got me in a vice. A voice broke through the fog of rage and alcohol. ‘Ok Maddie, that’s enough. I gotta call the cops again?’

  ‘Don’t call me Maddie!’ I spat the words out, tried to focus on the owner of the hands. Joseph the barman released his grip a little. ‘Easy now, yeah?’

  His calm voice took away the rage. The tears came, I fell into him as his arms wrapped around me. And letting the heartache free, it overwhelmed me. The pain, the intoxication, the sheer desolation... it was too much to handle.

  Then, all was peaceful. I think I blacked out.

  The muffled sound of gentle waves lapping over the beach sounded like a distant echo in my brain, but then slowly became clearer. The drum and base was gone, replaced with a jackhammer trying to break my skull.

  I screwed up my face, forced my eyes tighter together like a little girl trying to find sleep. The jackhammer wouldn’t go away, the mother of all headaches throbbing through my head with each beat of my heart.

  A slight breeze drifted across my skin, comforting, soothing. As consciousness returned, I realised my right hand was throbbing too. What happened to me? I lifted my arm a little, touched it with my other hand. It was bandaged.

  ‘She’s coming round...’

  A quiet voice, close by me, I thought. Afraid of what I might see, still I hadn’t opened my eyes. I forced them apart. Then everything was spinning, trying to make me throw up.

  ‘Madeline...’

  Another voice, different. I moved my head, slower this time, managed to bring the carousel to a stop. ‘Dad... please, no lectures.’

  He nodded, sad eyes smiling reassurance to me. ‘Let’s just get you home, ok?’

  ‘You might have to carry me.’ My voice was small, full of contrition.

  ‘If that’s what it takes.’

  I tried to sit up, it wasn’t so easy. Someone must have put me on one of the loungers, set on the beach just outside Joseph’s bar. He was there too, looking at me with a concerned expression on his face. He was a good guy, sometimes too good.

  He let me buy drinks, even when he really shouldn’t.

  He and my dad helped me to my feet. The palm trees surrounding us began to spin again, so I asked for a moment. They were patient, allowed my useless body to get familiar with being upright. It wasn’t the first time, after all. Then, with an arm locked into each of mine, we walked slowly across the sand to the road bordering the narrow strip of beach. I say we; I just moved my feet in a vague forward direction, letting my supporters keep me from a faceful of sharp sand.

  ‘Thanks Joe,’ said my dad. ‘Are we ok... anything need replacing?’

  He shook his head. ‘All is fine, David. A few smashed bottles, that is all. I am not so sure about the guy with the broken nose though. But he is a creep anyways, so I will try and deal with it!’

  The throbbing hand was starting to make sense. ‘Broken nose? What did I do?’

  My father didn’t answer, shook hands with Joe, who glanced back as he headed to his bar. ‘You take care Madeline, come and see me soon... for a coffee!’

  ‘I want to die.’

  ‘Not on my watch.’ Dad slipped a supportive arm around my waist, and walked me like a rag doll to the Landrover parked next to the palm trees growing up a slight rise at the side of the bar.

  We drove the half-mile to the cabin set amongst trees on the northern shore of the point. Not a word was said. Guess there wasn’t anything to say, and words would be hard to articulate without slurring anyway. My antics were coming back to me; the bar, the beer; the thumping music, the teeth.

  I’d been an embarrassment again; allowed my grief to get the better of me, shown myself up as the waste of space I’d become. Wallowed in self-pity and self-destruction, compensating for an inability to face up to hard facts with purely-medicinal alcohol. And as we pulled in to the sandy clearing in front of the cabin, remorse was once again my new best friend.

  And that was worse than any jackhammer trying its best to shake my skull to bits.

  Tami took my hand as I walked hesitantly through the open door. My dad’s girlfriend shepherded me to the sofa, handed me a foul-smelling mug of something. ‘It is an ancient remedy in my culture,’ she said. ‘It is used only when things become difficult, so perhaps
it will work for you.’

  Bright green steam curled menacingly from the mug. Something alive was swimming around the surface. Ok, maybe I exaggerate a little. I took a sip. It tasted as foul as I pretended it looked. Tami noticed the face. ‘Drink it all,’ she smiled. ‘I am sure it will help.’

  I watched her as she walked back to the kitchen area in the open-plan room. She was kind, tactile, gorgeous; dark skin, smooth as silk, short sexy black hair that suited her pretty face perfectly. A native of Tobago, she had curves to die for, and a butt any girl on the planet would be proud of.

  I could almost fancy her myself, if not for...

  No, not going there.

  The past is gone, dead and buried.

  She kissed my father, lovingly. It made me smile. She wasn’t that much older than me, quite a few years between the two of them. They’d met three years ago in Scarborough, the local town, and despite my conviction my father’s itchy feet would ensure their relationship wouldn’t last, a year ago they’d moved in together to the cabin overlooking the sea on the northern cove across from Pigeon Point.

  When I found my way here four weeks ago, with more than a little help from my father and his pilot friend, I could see straightaway his wanderlust had gone for good. He was the happiest I’d ever known him. I couldn’t blame him. The sun, the beach and the gorgeous Tami... he would have been a fool to say goodbye to all that.

  She came back over to me, slipped an arm around my shoulders. ‘Perhaps some sleep would be a good idea, Madeline? It is getting late.’

  ‘Sleep brings the nightmares.’

  She nodded sadly. ‘I know. But perhaps my ancient concoction will afford some peace this night?’

  Three minutes later she was helping me undress, my alcohol-laden limbs and throbbing right hand not making it easy for me to do it alone.

  I didn’t mind her seeing me naked. Since I’d been here, I’d regressed to my childhood more than I’d ever done, I wasn’t sure why. My mother cleared off when I was six, but it was a few years later when I realised she’d never been that much of a mum anyway.