then began sweeping back and forth across the road and the surrounding fields, getting closer with every pass.
Brandon couldn’t help staring at it, open-mouthed. It really did look saucer-shaped, although it was hard to make out any details: it was like trying to identify a car coming towards you on a dark road with its headlights on.
‘We’re sitting ducks,’ Jason said. ‘I’m getting us out of here.’ He released the handbrake.
Brandon saw Jason’s plan, and it was a good one: Jason timed it so that as the searching beam swept across the road and out across the fields, he rolled their dark and silent car down the road and into the valley beyond. There was a frightening few seconds when they were descending in pitch blackness, with Jason trying to control the speed of the plummeting vehicle with his foot on the brake pedal.
Then they were clear. Jason fired the engine while they were still rolling, and they soon joined the flow of traffic on the busy A23 heading down to Brighton. The flying saucers had moved away, hunting around in England’s villages and lanes.
Brandon watched them go. What destruction would follow, he wondered, if they couldn’t find what they were looking for?
‘Anyone got any sweets for the journey?’ Kat asked hopefully.
They arrived at the outskirts of Brighton at almost five in the morning. The sun was beginning to rise. This was quite a rare sight for Brandon; usually at this time on a Sunday he would be looking forward to another six hours’ sleep.
Instead he was stuck in traffic. The road into town was bumper to bumper; cars were queuing to get in, and there was also a long jam on the other side of the road heading out. It was like both morning and evening rush hours at the same time, when everyone really should still be in bed.
A giant billboard loomed over them as they sat in the queue. A nineteen-thirties-style girl in a bikini and a floppy hat posed by a pool above the words BRIGHTON, AMUSEMENTS, SURF BATHING. Parked behind the billboard was a tank. Two soldiers in khaki were watching the road.
‘I don’t think that they’re after us,’ Brandon observed. ‘It was just those special ops troops in black that know who I am.’
‘These guys are just looking for under-age drivers without a license!’ Kat laughed.
Jason sat up straighter in the driver’s seat and tried to look manly.
Kat was playing with her phone. ‘No signal or internet around here either,’ she said. ‘How can the whole internet be down everywhere?’
‘Maybe the army are blocking it here,’ Brandon guessed. ‘Or something else is.’
They rolled forward a few metres. A tandem rotor helicopter flew low overhead with a large truck-sized container swinging beneath it.
‘That’s a Chinook,’ Brandon noted. ‘They use them for moving troops and artillery around. They must be expecting something big to go down here.’
Kat turned to look at Brandon. ‘How come you know so much about military hardware?’
‘ Operation Flashpoint in Modern Combat Three : you have to fly a Chinook around and pick up survivors from different landing zones.’
Kat looked confused.
‘It’s a video game!’ Jason explained. ‘He knows as much about flying helicopters as I do.’
They crawled along slowly, the road curving so that out of the left windows they could see the town beyond a golf course. There were no golf buggies out this morning though. Instead, an army truck was dragging one of the large containers across the fairway. Unfolding out the back of the container was a snaking concertina-like barricade, three metres high and two metres thick.
‘They’re barricading the town,’ Brandon realised.
‘They must be turning all the traffic around, and kicking out the locals too,’ Jason said. ‘This place must be where they expect the aliens to attack next.’ He actually grinned at Brandon. ‘Trust you to want to go there.’
‘We need a plan to get past those barricades,’ Brandon
Brandon couldn’t help staring at it, open-mouthed. It really did look saucer-shaped, although it was hard to make out any details: it was like trying to identify a car coming towards you on a dark road with its headlights on.
‘We’re sitting ducks,’ Jason said. ‘I’m getting us out of here.’ He released the handbrake.
Brandon saw Jason’s plan, and it was a good one: Jason timed it so that as the searching beam swept across the road and out across the fields, he rolled their dark and silent car down the road and into the valley beyond. There was a frightening few seconds when they were descending in pitch blackness, with Jason trying to control the speed of the plummeting vehicle with his foot on the brake pedal.
Then they were clear. Jason fired the engine while they were still rolling, and they soon joined the flow of traffic on the busy A23 heading down to Brighton. The flying saucers had moved away, hunting around in England’s villages and lanes.
Brandon watched them go. What destruction would follow, he wondered, if they couldn’t find what they were looking for?
‘Anyone got any sweets for the journey?’ Kat asked hopefully.
They arrived at the outskirts of Brighton at almost five in the morning. The sun was beginning to rise. This was quite a rare sight for Brandon; usually at this time on a Sunday he would be looking forward to another six hours’ sleep.
Instead he was stuck in traffic. The road into town was bumper to bumper; cars were queuing to get in, and there was also a long jam on the other side of the road heading out. It was like both morning and evening rush hours at the same time, when everyone really should still be in bed.
A giant billboard loomed over them as they sat in the queue. A nineteen-thirties-style girl in a bikini and a floppy hat posed by a pool above the words BRIGHTON, AMUSEMENTS, SURF BATHING. Parked behind the billboard was a tank. Two soldiers in khaki were watching the road.
‘I don’t think that they’re after us,’ Brandon observed. ‘It was just those special ops troops in black that know who I am.’
‘These guys are just looking for under-age drivers without a license!’ Kat laughed.
Jason sat up straighter in the driver’s seat and tried to look manly.
Kat was playing with her phone. ‘No signal or internet around here either,’ she said. ‘How can the whole internet be down everywhere?’
‘Maybe the army are blocking it here,’ Brandon guessed. ‘Or something else is.’
They rolled forward a few metres. A tandem rotor helicopter flew low overhead with a large truck-sized container swinging beneath it.
‘That’s a Chinook,’ Brandon noted. ‘They use them for moving troops and artillery around. They must be expecting something big to go down here.’
Kat turned to look at Brandon. ‘How come you know so much about military hardware?’
‘ Operation Flashpoint in Modern Combat Three : you have to fly a Chinook around and pick up survivors from different landing zones.’
Kat looked confused.
‘It’s a video game!’ Jason explained. ‘He knows as much about flying helicopters as I do.’
They crawled along slowly, the road curving so that out of the left windows they could see the town beyond a golf course. There were no golf buggies out this morning though. Instead, an army truck was dragging one of the large containers across the fairway. Unfolding out the back of the container was a snaking concertina-like barricade, three metres high and two metres thick.
‘They’re barricading the town,’ Brandon realised.
‘They must be turning all the traffic around, and kicking out the locals too,’ Jason said. ‘This place must be where they expect the aliens to attack next.’ He actually grinned at Brandon. ‘Trust you to want to go there.’
‘We need a plan to get past those barricades,’ Brandon
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