Christopher Nuttall - Their Darkest Hour

A faint hum echoed through the vehicle and she realised, after a moment, that they were on their way. There weren’t supposed to be any IEDs hidden around Smith’s farm, but she found herself hoping that someone had disobeyed orders and planted one in a position where it might catch the alien convoy. If they interrogated her… she resolved to hold out as long as possible, or invent lies to keep the aliens happy. She knew that there had been hundreds of attacks on the aliens that had had nothing to do with her little band — if she claimed credit for them, it should confuse the aliens a little. It might even might them slow down their sweeps in the belief that they’d caught the resistance’s leader…

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

She had almost lost track of time when the hum faded away and she heard the sound of scrabbling on the outside of the vehicle. The hatch clicked open, revealing a pair of aliens looking down at her. One of them reached for her leg with a clawed hand and pulled her towards the hatch, while the other held a gun pointed at her head. Alex almost burst out laughing, wondering just why the aliens thought she was so dangerous. She was alone, her hands were bound behind her back and she was unarmed. Did they think she was Wonder Woman or someone else with superhuman strength?

They pulled her out of the vehicle and held her upright long enough to regain her balance, before pushing her towards a gate in a massive fence. Inside, there were a large number of humans — all female, wearing rags. A second camp, some distance away, held men. They didn’t look to be in any better shape. One of the aliens caught her hands, clipped the plastic tie free, and then shoved her through the gate. It closed behind her with an ominous click.

“Alex,” a voice said. “Thank God you’re alive!”

Alex turned to see Jean, Smith’s wife, standing there. “Someone in the town betrayed us,” she said, bitterly. It looked as if she’d been crying. “They came for us, arrested us and dumped us here. I hoped you’re get away.”

“I walked right into them,” Alex admitted. It gave her no pleasure to admit the truth, but there was no point in lying. She looked at her fellow captives and shivered. Most of them looked to have spent weeks in the detention camp, fed on very little. They looked thin and worn. There were some blankets to lie on, but no shelters. Alex realised that many of them were suffering from exposure. The aliens didn’t seem to care. “And then they just brought me here.”

Over the next few hours, she chatted to many of the women. They’d all been taken as prisoners by alien sweeps, apparently because they were linked to one or more of the insurgents. Several of the women thought that they’d been picked up at random, although they liked to think that their husbands or brothers were still fighting the aliens. A number had had military personnel in their families, although Alex was the only actual military person in the camp. The male camp didn’t look to be any different. In fact, both camps appeared to be reaching capacity.

Jean caught her arm. “What are we going to do?”

Alex looked up, past the wire. They were inside an alien base, surrounded by aliens — and she didn’t even know where they were. The alien vehicles moved with astonishing speed. They could be in Scotland, or Wales, or on the other side of London… there was no way to know for sure. It looked as if the aliens had built their base on top of a RAF base, but it wasn’t one she recognised. That really only excluded a handful of bases from consideration.

And if they were removing military personnel, why hadn’t they taken her? A moment later, it struck her — they hadn’t identified her. They presumably thought she was just a civilian insurgent, rather than a military officer carrying on the war. And that gave her an edge, if she stayed alive long enough to figure out how to use it.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. No, that wasn’t quite true. “We can’t do anything at the moment, so we wait. Who knows? Maybe the horse will learn to sing.”

London

United Kingdom, Day 35

“No, I don’t know why they want you,” Robin said, as patiently as he could. “All I know is that we have been ordered to pick you up and hand you over to them.”

Silently, he cursed his orders under his breath. The aliens had ordered their puppet Prime Minister to round up several hundred people from London, people who seemed to have little in common. They certainly didn’t have any links to the resistance as far as Robin could see. Once rounded up, they were to be handed over to the aliens and then… there was no clear answer. It didn’t sound very good, but what choice did they have? The aliens wouldn’t be anything like as patient with reluctant humans.

The young man they’d been sent to pick up didn’t look very healthy. In fact, like most of the city’s population, he’d clearly been losing weight now that he had nothing to eat, but the tasteless mush the aliens supplied. Real food was only available for collaborators and on the black market and their target lacked the contacts to obtain something that would have been readily available a month ago. Robin couldn’t think of any reason why the aliens wanted him in particular, but they had clearly made up their minds. The young man’s mother and father looked just as worried, even though they weren’t coming with him. And the looks they were casting at Robin when they thought he wasn’t watching…

He shivered. It was normal for people to be a little nervous around the police. Everyone had something weighing on their minds, even if it was comparatively minor compared to serial killing or paedophilia. The police represented law and order. But now…? Now the entire city — the entire country — was afraid of the police. The slaughter in Central London had broken their reputation once and for all. On their drive to the young man’s house, they’d avoided several stones thrown at them by youths — and there were parts of the city that were no-go zones for them now. Robin hated conceding anything to the thugs who called themselves community leaders, but the alternative was to ask the aliens to help. And that would mean another slaughter.

Some policemen, including several he knew personal, had deserted, vanishing into London’s overcrowded city blocks. Several others had killed themselves, swallowing vast quantities of painkillers or hanging themselves from the ceiling. Even those that had tried to remain on duty had been demoralised, after the slaughter. They knew that they were forever tainted by what the aliens had done, even though they’d never ordered it or wanted it to happen. How could they ever seek forgiveness from an angry population?

“It’s going to be fine,” Robin said, although he suspected otherwise. “You’re allowed to take an overnight bag with you, so pack clean underwear and anything else you think you might need.”

They waited while the young man and his mother packed a bag. Robin half-hoped that their target would take the opportunity to vanish out of the back door and into the side streets before they could catch him, but he didn’t seem to have the nerve. He returned to the door with a large bag slung over his shoulder and an expression that suggested that he was going to his own funeral. Robin, who’d had a moment to study the awards pinned to the wall, suspected otherwise. The aliens had lost one of their projects when the suicide bomber had blown up Gilmore Technical College, but they were still interested in human computers. And the people on the list they’d been ordered to bring in had vast computer experience. It made little sense to him — the aliens could cross the stars, which suggested they should have better computers — but it was the only reason he could imagine. Or maybe they just wanted hostages to shoot.