Simon Clark - Humpty's bones

The truth is, I’m adopted. The man and woman who became my parents found me in a cardboard box when I was baby. That box had been in the lane just outside the bunker fence. Both tell me they remember that night well. The moon shone bright.

And for the first time in their lives they’d seen that the bunker door was open. Wide open. A ghostly blue light shone inside. In the morning the steel door was locked shut again.

The shiver that ran up my spine made my back itch. A squirmy itch that made the skin on my back so sensitive I couldn’t bear the pressure of even my T-shirt against it. If anyone else noticed I was troubled they didn’t mention it.

Adam looked into the distance. ‘Army helicopters. See? Four of them. They must have received an alarm call from computers in the bunker.’

With an effort I made that false smile on my face even bigger. ‘We’ll leave the experts to clear up the mess.’

Jenny noticed Brian still gawped in shock at the wreckage of his bike. Before we headed home, she said to Pitt. ‘You saved Brian’s life.’ She grinned. ‘Something tells me he’s never going to even think of bullying you again. Ever. ’

They were laughing with relief that the danger was over. I laughed, too, though I found myself thinking hard about the Voggron. For a while back there in the tunnels, my mind had evolved into an uncannily powerful instrument. One that could reach into other people’s minds — just as the Voggron had done. When my back gave that itchy squirm again I asked myself the question:

Is this story really over?

Or, for me, had it only just begun?