Майк Ланкастер - Human.4

Mr Peterson.

Last seen in a fetal ball on the stage at the talent show.

Where we had left him.

"What happened to him?" I asked. "I mean, after everyone started moving again?"

"I don’t know," Mrs O’Donnell said. "I was so relieved, I . . . I kind of forgot about him. I wandered down the high street, sort of in a daze, but no one was talking. They were just filing past, completely silent. When I spoke to someone they responded, but it was like they would rather not be talking. As if there was something . . . new . . . going on in their heads. They no longer seemed to need to chatter away about nothing. It was eerie. Like . . . like a funeral , or something."

I drained the orange squash and rolled the glass around on my trouser leg.

"I . . . I need to ask something," I said. "And . . . well, there’s no sort of easy way to . . . Are we talking aliens here, do you think?"

Both Lilly and Mrs O’Donnell looked at me seriously.

It was Lilly who spoke first.

"There’s no such thing as aliens," she said definitely.

"Wow, I had no idea that scientists had actually figured that out," I said. "Last I heard they were still keeping an open mind."

"You know what I mean. No little green men and silver spaceships."

"That’s not the only kind of alien life possible," I said. "Has anyone seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers? "

Mrs O’Donnell sighed.

"You do realize that was a film ?" she said caustically. "Not a documentary. And Invasion of the Body Snatchers wasn’t really about aliens. It was about Communism, and the remake was about the changing roles of men and women in modern society."

"I thought they were from outer space," I said grumpily. "In fact, I remember them saying that the pod things that took over people and changed them were aliens."

Mrs O’Donnell’s face told me that she thought I had missed the point that she was making.

"The differences in text and subtext aside," she said, "you’re thinking that alien pod creatures arrived in Millgrove during a village talent show, and took over everybody except the handful of people hypnotized by a boy magician?"

"Yeah, well you put it that way and it sounds kinda stupid," I said. "But pod people was only meant as an example from a science fiction movie. We are agreed that something weird happened, aren’t we? I mean, this isn’t everyday Millgrove, is it? People that we know are acting strangely . We recognize their faces, but no longer recognize them ."

"We have no way of knowing what happened when we were in trances on that stage," Mrs O’Donnell said, "but surely it’s more likely that it’s US who are at fault, that we’re seeing things differently—"

"Have you managed to get any TV or radio signals?" I interrupted. "Managed to reach anyone by phone? Are you getting anything on your computer except those symbols we were looking at earlier?"

The look on her face answered my questions for me.

"Look," I said. "I’m a kid. I know that. But it doesn’t mean that I’m incapable of seeing what’s going on around me. We are in deep, deep trouble here, and if you want the absolute truth I really don’t know what to do about it. But I do know that hiding my head in the sand is the wrong thing to do."

I was getting frustrated and flustered.

I was even waving my arms in the air.

"I think that’s why Lilly and I ran here. To get an adult to help us work out a way to put all this right. To bring our parents back to us. To make things go back to the way they were. We need you, Kate."

It was the first time I’d called her, or even thought of her, by her first name.

"OK," she said, getting to her feet. "We’ll go and find Rodney Peterson and then we’ll head out of town. We’ll get help. We will find people who can figure this thing out."

"Thank you," I said.

She smiled.

"It’s fine, Kyle. Now let’s get going."

We got into Kate’s car and the plan was simple. Stop off and check on Mr Peterson, and then get the heck out of Millgrove.

None of us was really surprised when it refused to start. The car didn’t make a sound. There was no ignition straining against a flat battery sound. Not a spark of life in the engine at all.

So we walked down the deserted streets, aware of just how strange it was that they were deserted. We knew that there were people inside those houses, but there were no signs nor sounds of life. It made me think of those ghost towns in Westerns. If a couple of spiky tumbleweeds had blown past, I don’t think they would have looked out of place.

No life.

Stillness.

It was as if the buildings were brooding, the village was dreaming, and we were just a solitary thought passing through its mind.

The village green was set up for the talent show, but it was deserted too. It looked strange and unsettling.

The stage was empty, and in front of it was chaos. Things that people had brought along with them—picnic food, blankets to sit on, handbags—had been left behind and lay on the grass.

People don’t leave their personal effects lying around like that. They take them with them when they leave. They cling to their possessions almost like a reflex.

Nor do they leave people lying on the stage after they have had some kind of mental breakdown.

But they had left Mr Peterson.

He was still in the same spot we had last seen him.

He was all alone, curled up in a tight ball of his own fear. I suddenly felt terrible that we hadn’t thought to go back for him sooner. But we’d had our reasons for forgetting him, I guess. Like the world suddenly turning strange and terrifying.

What was everybody else’s excuse?

We approached Mr Peterson and I could see his body trembling like a leaf. His lips moved as he formed soundless words. His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Mr Peterson?" I called.

If he heard me there was no visible sign.

"He’s in shock," Kate O’Donnell said.

"Why is he still like this?" Lilly asked.

"I think he saw something," I said. "I think he saw what happened."

"But he was hypnotized too."

"Everyone’s different. Maybe his trance was just a bit shallower than ours."

Lilly shrugged.

"How do we get him to tell us what he saw?" she said.

"Ask nicely?" I suggested.

"You are such a loser," she said, but with a smile.

"I know." I smiled back.

Kate knelt over Mr Peterson and put her hand gently on his shoulder. Initially he recoiled from her touch, but then his eyes opened and he looked at her face.

"It’s you," he said. "You came back."

"Of course I did, Rodney."

She reached down and found his hand, wrapped it in hers, holding it tight.

"And you’re still you," he said.

"Yep," she said. "At least I was last time I looked."

"They . . . they didn’t . . . get you."

"Who?" Kate asked him. "Who didn’t get me?"

"All of them," Mr Peterson said, suddenly seeming to come back to reality from the dark place he had been hiding in inside his own mind.

"You saw something," Kate said. "I… we . . . need to know what it was."

Mr Peterson looked up at her and there was warmth and compassion in his eyes, but there was also fear.

"Something happened to me," Mr Peterson was saying. "It was like they say in the Bible, where the scales fall from someone’s eyes, where they suddenly see the truth behind the visible. I saw the people in the crowd, all of them, and they had become . . . were becoming… something else . Something . . . impossible."

"What did you see?" That was from Lilly, and there was an urgency that made Mr Peterson turn to see us standing there for the first time.