‘I’m all set,’ he announced. ‘I’ll climb down first, then you can hand me the mike.’
‘Head for that clear patch you can see over there,’ the cameraman said, pointing. ‘That should be fine. Terry — the longest lead you can give us!’
To the rear of the lorry the beach looked uninviting. It was covered with squashed jellyfish, slime, and segments of severed tentacles squirming where they lay. Instead, he climbed over the side and dropped on to a small area of unoccupied sand marred only by the remains of a discarded cigarette packet. For a second or two he swayed, unsure of his balance, but somehow he managed to keep his footing.
Perhaps Jehovah was on his side after all, he thought grimly.
‘OK, let’s have the mike,’ he called up. ‘And I don’t relish the idea of staying too long down here, so let’s get it in one — right?’
They lowered the mike to him on the end of its heavy cable. Once he had it in his hand, he began to pick his way gingerly between the jellyfish, heading for the spot Wally had indicated. Jellyfish cannot see, he repeated to himself persistently; he was uncomfortably aware that those ruby star-markings on the jellyfish seemed to be watching him. They’re blind, single-minded predators.
Which could move on dry land, he reminded himself, however immobile they might appear to be at first sight. They had gathered around him in that cave, crowding in on him, making their first tentative attack on his boots…
Tim blinked; the brilliant sunshine hurt his eyes. For a moment he’d imagined himself back in the cave, reliving all that had happened there. He gazed around at the thousands of jellyfish scattered across the beach in every direction. Had they willed him to think that way? Taken over his mind?
He shivered.
But he had to pull himself together if he was to get back in one piece. He turned to wave to the crew on the lorry, and then tramped on, taking care to avoid treading on even a single tentacle.
‘That’s it!’ Jacqui’s voice, sounding a long way off. ‘You are OK now.’
He stopped and faced them. That patch of clear sand seemed so virginal… so pure… He took up his position in the centre of it. The nearest jellyfish were almost two feet away. On the lorry, Wally was peering at him through the camera and adjusting the zoom lens. Jacqui was shading her eyes, looking back towards the promenade.
‘Mary had a little lamb, its fleece as pink as jellyfish,’ he recited into the mike. ‘That OK for level?’
The sound man waved. Then why the hell can’t we get on with it, Tim thought irritably. He could swear one or two of those jellyfish were already a little closer to him.
Jacqui was saying something to the cameraman. Oh, bloody hell, don’t start arguing now! But, no — everything was OK.
‘Stand by!’ Jacqui’s thin voice floated towards him. As if he’d been doing anything else for the past few minutes. He was hardly likely to lie down and sunbathe. ‘Stand by! Action!’
Tim let it all rip. Whatever he’d prepared went out of his head. In its place came words which he had never intended to speak. Sincere words which weren’t deliberately conceived to shock the viewers, yet probably would. This was one issue he could not bring himself to fudge; the stakes were too high. He had to get the message over.
The camera was starting on him, he knew.
‘Early today the unexpected happened,’ he began soberly. ‘The coasts of Britain were attacked by hordes of jellyfish. No one can tell us why they have come here, only that they are extremely dangerous. They attack human beings wherever they meet them. Not only human beings, but animals as well. Perhaps you think I’m exaggerating when I talk of jellyfish hordes, but just take a look at this beach… ’
He turned slightly, cueing the camera man to widen the shot.
‘… and ask yourself: have you ever seen so many jellyfish before? In one place? There’s no denying they look attractive — but whatever you do, never touch them. It’s best to stay well clear of them, and keep your children away from them as well. These jellyfish can kill. On dry land as well as in the water.
‘I said we don’t know why they’ve come here, yet one thing is certain. They look on us — you and me — as food. In the past, our ancestors were hunters who went after wild animals in order to feed their families. Today our fishermen still go out on their trawlers to catch fish for our tables. In much the same way these creatures hunt us. Don’t expect any mercy from them. Don’t expect anything — except danger.’
For a few moments he remained quite still, clutching the stick mike in his one good hand. Even before he glanced down he was aware that the jellyfish had edged their way across the sand and were now within an inch or two of his boots.
‘Tim!’ It was Jacqui shouting, and waving to him urgently. ‘Get moving! That was fine but you’ve got to get back!’
A jellyfish immediately in front of him moved again, an obvious ripple appearing across it. It straightened out, now partly covering the toe of his boot. Once more it gathered itself up, the section still on the sand tucking closer, and once more it propelled itself forward until it lay draped over his foot.
He attempted to shake it off, but its hold was too secure. At last he managed to peel it away by using the side of his left boot as a scraper, though by that time another was already waiting to take its place.
‘Tim! Ti-i-im!’
Jacqui was sounding desperate, yet how could he go back to the lorry while the jellyfish were crowding on to his boots? He had to get them off; no point in moving till he’d rid himself of them — was there? He couldn’t go like this, not with…
Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny area of rationality remained. You’re being obsessional, it told him. Best get on your way.
Yet there were jellyfish on both boots now. What was worse, one was clearly creeping over another, using it as a sort of stepping stone from which it could drape itself around his ankle. Tim stared down at them as if hypnotised.
‘Tim — hold on!’
What was she doing? He gazed over towards the lorry — that was Jacqui climbing out, wasn’t it? Jumping down. Oh no, she mustn’t… no…
‘No, Jacqui, don’t!’ he yelled with the full force of his lungs. ‘Go back!’
He started forward, ignoring the jellyfish over his feet, knowing only that he had to get to her. They left him no path, they had crowded so close. He had no hesitation about stepping on them, but they were so slippery that he several times almost lost his footing. His mind was cold now, fully recovered from that minor attack of — what had it been? A form of hysteria? Some jellyfish he kicked aside, forcing his boot into the soft sand beneath them, but a few clung to him. He could feel their weight, and the pressure of their disgusting bodies against his lower legs.
But it was effective. By one means or another, he cleared a path through them, shouting warnings to Jacqui to stay where she was. For some reason he still clung to the microphone, though he’d have done better to abandon it; jellyfish straddled the heavy lead — every couple of feet, it seemed — but he tugged it clear, toppling them over on to their backs.
‘Tim — your legs!’ Jacqui exclaimed, horrified. ‘Stand still a minute and let me…’
She didn’t finish the sentence, but set to work right away with the long-handled hoe she was wielding. Jellyfish clung like scales to his flying boots; the uppermost were already beginning to explore his jeans. Luckily they moved only very slowly, but in another few minutes they’d have reached his knees.
On the sand around her lay the remains of those she’d already slaughtered. Or perhaps ‘slaughtered’ was the wrong word, he thought; they still seemed very much alive despite having been cut to pieces with the hoe. He remembered Sue’s desperation in the little general stores as she tried to kill that first specimen they’d collected. It won’t die! He could almost hear her voice.