Christopher Nuttall - Their Darkest Hour

And perhaps it would be quick.

Alien Detention Camp

United Kingdom, Day 41

“I strongly suggest that you don’t fuck up,” Chris said, looking over at the lorry driver. It hadn’t taken much to pigeon-hole their unwilling assistant as someone who could be threatened, although never fully trusted. “One mistake and they’ll have us — and they will never believe that you weren’t part of it.”

Jimmy Coates nodded, clearly nervous around the soldiers and their weapons. The aliens had summoned three of their tame lorry drivers — and their vehicles — to the detention camp, a stroke of luck that Chris intended to use against them. Each of the lorries could hold upwards of twenty soldiers, along with some heavy weapons. The remainder of the assault force had positioned itself nearer the camp, watching and waiting for the balloon to go up. Chris had devised the plan, but right now — on the verge of implementing his plan — it struck him that there were too many things that could go wrong. If they fucked up…

“I’m going to be in the cab with you,” he added. “If you betray us, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

He bellowed for the soldiers to clamber into the lorries, and then nodded to Coates to climb into his cab and start the engine. Chris had ridden in army lorries before, but it had taken some careful work to prepare the civilian vehicles for their use. They weren’t designed to carry passengers in the rear, let alone heavy weapons. Chris hadn’t mentioned it to the lorry drivers, but if necessary they wouldn’t hesitate to abandon the lorries and leave them behind. The aliens would know who had assisted the resistance, which would mark the drivers for death when they were caught. Their families were already safe and the drivers, assuming that they survived the mission, would be allowed to join them.

“Come on,” Coates bellowed. “We need to get moving!”

Chris nodded and scrambled up into the cab. It was warmer than he had expected, smelling of something he didn’t quite want to identify. Jimmy turned the key and the engine roared to life as Chris pulled on his seat belt and checked his Browning. He’d stashed a small bag of grenades and other surprises below the seat, out of sight of any alien patrols. If nothing else, the mission should convince the aliens that they couldn’t rely on their tame collaborators — at least not completely. And Coates, a drunkard with a shrew of a wife, would go down in the history books as a hero.

The vehicle lurched into life and headed off down the road, followed by the other two lorries at a safe distance. Chris wasn’t too surprised to see how empty the roads had become, even though the aliens had started doling out petrol to their collaborators. Most vehicles were driven by collaborators and they’d been targeted by resistance fighters — or just local youths — for destruction. Not many people picked on the aliens these days. The Leathernecks were clearly learning; not only had they improved their reaction times, but they didn’t hesitate to blast nearby towns and villages in retaliation for attacks on their vehicles.

Chris gritted his teeth as the roar of the engine grew louder, thinking hard. How long could they continue to fight if the aliens retaliated massively for every little attack? They had plenty of weapons, but the aliens would simply keep wearing them down — and force the local population into more active collaboration. If they started warning the inhabitants of towns near their bases that any attack would result in the destruction of their town, the inhabitants might betray the resistance fighters to the aliens. Chris couldn’t really blame them, even though it would make carrying on the war difficult. How could they keep fighting if they didn’t have a real hope of victory?

The internet — passing messages from cell to cell — was clearly trying to keep their hopes up, but he could tell that the resistance was fraying at the edges. None of the lads had ever expected to have to fight a war in their own backyards and many had seen to their families, only to be rounded up by the aliens and shipped… where? It bothered him that they still had no idea what happened to human military personnel. There were hundreds of rumours, but none of them had ever seemed more than marginally likely. Perhaps they’d just been taken somewhere isolated and murdered. It was as likely as any other suggestion.

Once, the motorways had been jam-packed with traffic, making it impossible to move along at anything above a crawl. Now, from what he’d heard, those collaborators who drove out found driving almost pleasurable — at least while they weren’t dodging rocks. He couldn’t really blame them for that, even though he hated them for collaborating. The longer the country remained under alien control, the more and more people who would find themselves pushed into collaboration, or at least accommodation, with the aliens. And then…

There were parts of the country that had been used for military training and exercises for years, places where few civilians lived. The Scottish Highlands could hide a resistance force for years; indeed, the aliens seemed less interested in human activities above Dundee. They did have a small alien force in Aberdeen, but they hadn’t bothered to expand outwards or even start supervising the locals as closely as they did in London. It was reassuring to know that there were limits to their manpower, even though it was likely that they didn’t consider the Highlands very important. He could go there and join the Scots Guards who were preparing their own fallback positions, or… maybe he would just carry on the fight until his luck ran out and the aliens killed him.

He glanced down at his watch. It was 1024. The executions had been scheduled for 1100 precisely. Apparently, the aliens were sending a number of bigwigs from London and the other occupied cities down to watch as they pumped bullets into captured resistance fighters, perhaps as a warning to anyone who would consider playing both sides of the fence. It was possible that Beresford himself would be there. Now there was a pleasant thought. If they had a shot at him, Chris intended to take it. Maybe it would teach the other collaborators not to sell themselves, body and soul, to the enemy of the entire world.

The light came on, shockingly bright.

“On your feet,” a man ordered. Alex gasped in pain as strong hand grasped her legs and pulled them off the bed. A moment later, she was yanked to her feet and pushed against the cold wall while her hands were tied behind her back. Her two captors, both wearing the black masks that obscured their features, shoved her towards the door. Despite nearly falling onto her face, Alex found the masks rather heartening. They were clearly concerned about retribution from the resistance.

Outside, a number of other naked prisoners — male and female — were being pushed towards a flight of stairs leading upwards. Many of them were silent; others were crying out, begging for mercy from their masked captors. None of the captors seemed particularly impressed, although a few were taking advantage of the situation to grope the women in the group. Alex snarled at a man who grasped at her breast and he jumped back, clearly not having expected any resistance at all. The thought made her smile as she was pushed up the steps and out into the cold morning air. They seemed to be on the far edge of the alien detention camp.

She heard someone calling to her and glanced over towards the fences. Both the male and female camp populations were staring at the small parade, despite angry shouts and threats from their masked escorts. Alex wondered, absently, what had happened to the aliens. Surely they would be watching while their human pawns abused their captives… or perhaps they were ashamed. Hadn’t there been a fictional race of aliens who had discovered the Nazi concentration camps and destroyed them in horror? If only Earth had been invaded by those aliens. The war wouldn’t have lasted longer than a few weeks and Earth would have won with ease. Unless the aliens managed to drop asteroids onto the planet instead of landing in force…