“I think it’s time for a break,” Archer said, as he spied her. The young men stood up and scattered. They’d been warned to be very careful — and avoid the aliens at all costs. “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”
Alex nodded, but waited for the barn to empty before she spoke. “They’re parked in a camping field, some miles away,” she said, flatly. “I think they’ll have to leave the way they came, unless they intend to go cross-country.”
Archer nodded. “I have the surprise all ready for them,” he said. “I’m coming with you…”
“No, you’re not,” Alex said, flatly. “You know much more about these weapons than I do. We can’t afford to lose you — at least not yet.”
Archer didn’t look pleased, but he accepted her comment. “Make sure you place it properly,” he said, firmly. “I spent too much trouble making it to have you fail to blow up the right people.”
Twenty minutes later, Alex and two of the lads headed out over the countryside, heading for where the collaborators were parked. She was mildly surprised that the aliens had chosen to stay with them, but it worked in her favour. Assuming that the aliens were jumpy and had night-vision gear, she kept her small force from going any closer than the grit bin she’d noticed by the side of the road. It took longer than she’d feared to empty the grit into the road and pack the bomb into the bin, but they made it. Her first IED didn’t look very professional, yet it should do the trick. Or so she told herself.
Sending the two boys back to their homes, she found a hiding place and settled down to wait. There was no way of knowing just when the collaborators would start to move, but the aliens — according to the internet — were hard taskmasters. They might well decide to start when dawn rose above the horizon, whatever their human subordinates thought. Besides, it was almost traditional to attack at dawn. Any human force would be awake and on guard at that point, at least if it was on deployment.
She was yawning when she heard two helicopters high overhead, followed by the sound of vehicle engines rumbling into life. It wasn’t quite dawn yet — perhaps the aliens were harder taskmasters than she had assumed. Or perhaps they were just bastards. It hardly mattered. A moment later, she saw lights in the distance, suggesting that the aliens were on their way. She’d been worried about accidentally blowing up civilians, but most civilian vehicles had run out of petrol in the last few days. The remaining supplies were being carefully hoarded.
The lead alien vehicle came around the bend and accelerated down the road. Alex was mildly impressed by how it seemed to glide above the ground — it was almost silent compared to the trucks carrying policemen — but there was no time to stare. She reached for the detonator and held it in her hand, cradling it while running her finger over the button. There were no safety features, Archer had told her, with a thin leer. They’d been less careful in those days. Of course, the planned resistance cells in Britain had also had more training than Alex had ever received. If there was ever a day when the RAF returned to service, she made a mental note to insist that ground combat skills were included in what they taught their pilots.
Just before the alien vehicle reached the grit bin, she pushed down on the button. There was a heart-stopping pause — and then there was a thunderous explosion. The alien vehicle was picked up and flung right into the following truck, crushing a number of policemen under its weight. An engine caught fire and another truck went up in flames, just before two more trucks collided with the vehicles ahead of them. The second alien vehicle was untouched, but the alien infantry dismounted anyway. They moved with eerie grace as they surrounded the scene, clearly expecting another attack at any moment. Alex silently cursed her own oversight. She could have had several men with hunting rifles in position to pick off most of the aliens — but then, they would have had to risk remaining at the scene long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
She’d had time to plan her own exit and so she ran, keeping her head down and praying that she wouldn’t be noticed. The alien helicopters had returned to the convoy to hover menacingly over the ruined vehicles, no doubt looking for enemy insurgents to target and kill. She almost fainted as she heard the sound of gunfire, before realising that the aliens were shooting at rabbits. The noise had flushed a number of the little beasts out of hiding and the aliens had thought that they were humans! She was still grinning at the thought when she headed further into the countryside, back to her hiding place. They’d never find her.
“You hit the bastards,” Smith said, three hours later. The aliens had visited their farm yesterday and given the farmer and his wife their ID cards. Alex had examined them and concluded that the aliens had actually encoded information into the cards — hardly an unfamiliar form of technology, but one with ominous implications for population control. “What do you think they’ll do in response?”
Alex shrugged. There was no way to know. She’d actually offered to leave, knowing that her presence would bring danger to their house, but they’d refused to hear of it. Besides, as Smith had assured her, they needed help on the farm. The aliens had stated that they would be expected to start expanding their yield and Alex suspected that failing to produce food for the aliens would result in losing the farm. Their children were still lost somewhere in Britain, unable to return to their home.
She looked down at Smith’s ID card. The policemen had been very clear on what the farmer could and could not do. Leaving the county without permission would result in arrest. Failing to produce the card when requested would result in arrest. Their grown children and their families, if they ever arrived, would be expected to report to the aliens through the local police station — or they would be arrested. It seemed that putting even a single foot wrong would result in arrest. Alex could almost understand why they were issuing such edicts; it was as demoralising as hell and it certainly kept humanity under foot. Given enough time, the aliens could start organising the country to suit themselves.
The sound of helicopters — they had to be alien — nearby sent another chill down her spine. How much could they mobilise to hunt her and her little band down? An entire army, a small force of soldiers… or would they bombard the nearest town purely for the hell of it? There was no way to know, but she would have to find out — somehow. She rubbed her face, fought down a yawn, and headed outside. There was work to be done on the farm.
“But the last time I fought was in Malaya!”
Major Terrence Smyth scowled at the aliens, who seemed unresponsive. For all he knew, they couldn’t speak English. It wouldn’t be the first time that some conquering bastard had thought that keeping his soldiers from speaking the native tongue would stop them from developing any attachments to the locals. Of course, humans had always been able to communicate, even if by gestures alone. And they’d always wanted the same things — women, money, a chance to go home without having certain vital parts separated from their bodies. The thought of the aliens paying attention to human women was sickening.
The policemen at least looked ashamed, when they bothered to meet his eyes. They’d taken his son away somewhere, purely for the crime of trying to defend his old man. Terrence had fought in Malaya before leaving the British Army, decades ago. It seemed that the aliens didn’t give a damn about how long ago a person’s military service was — if a person had military experience, he or she was to be arrested and taken away.