Stories of Earth: Wwiii

By Dimitrious Charles

Awakening as the only survivors from an explosion that kills thousands, with strange cybernetic attachments and experiencing premonitions and visions, five teenagers are in a world that thinks they are dead but is also ensuring their survival. While under pursuit from the rest of the nation, they must figure out who is orchestrating their lives, but under the guidance of a force that helps them one minute yet tries to kill them the next, they uncover a secret that will tear the world apart. Why are there so many coincidences? What part does a US Antarctic base play? Why are people so complacent? Who could be controlling the minds of millions of people and how? Someone is trying to start WWIII – and the end of the world as we know it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Feb 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493134502

Dimitrious Charles

Dimitrious Charles, author of Stories of Earth: WWIII-published when he was seventeen-grew up in regional New South Wales. When not using his degrees in law and environmental engineering, you’ll find him creating content for YouTube, travelling the world, or reading other great novels, in order to find inspiration for future literary adventures.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The Game Begins

The car flew down the highway; the trip to the away match seemed to be taking longer than it had done in previous years, despite the new bypass being finished and in use. It arced over crevasses and cut through mountains, yet it seemed to wind forever into the distance. It was a night game, and as it was nearing seven o’clock on a winter evening, the sunlight was all but gone. Alexandro Corsa was sitting in the car, only half-listening to the radio. Every now and then, he picked something up from the conversation that was being transmitted hundreds of kilometres from Sydney through the air, but on the most part, he was exploring his own mind. The ideas that flew through his head were not worth mentioning except one. He had visited the playing field before, in previous years, with other teams. But this time, there was something different. A dark sense of fear tingled through his body – he had never felt anything like this before; the feeling, though interesting, was unnerving him.

Thinking back, he realised his entire day had seemed a little, well, odd.

Then again, I’m always nervous before games… I wonder how much of an embarrassment I’ll make of myself tonight.

He switched his mind back to the here and now once the street lights of Ulladulla, a small town on the South Coast of New South Wales flickered over his eyes. Turning a sharp left, they drove towards the ocean and playing field. For a moment, his sense of tremendous foreboding dispersed, but seeing his team waiting together by the side of the field sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He waved his father goodbye, grabbed his water bottle, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked over to one of the fields that was not in use, making it perfect for some pre-match warm ups.

Ready for the game? asked his coach, who asked exactly the same thing every week.

I think so… Yeah, I think so, Alex replied apprehensively.

That was such a stupid reply. Nice one.

Come on, we want to beat the others, don’t we? And we’re not going to do that unless we’re warmed up! called Josh, one of the better players in the team.

Everyone’s better than me. Of course I think they’re good!

Josh was a show-off, which might have explained why he was not the captain and Joel was.

Come on, Captain, you’re the one who’s supposed to be leading us, remember! Josh added.

Joel had been talking to the officials, but rudely interrupted he spun around and asked, What he said?

The rest of the team laughed.

Watch it. Don’t think I’m not paying attention!

Joel returned to his busy conversation with the linesmen, but he stopped occasionally to instruct the team on the next drill. Very soon, no one was taking him seriously; the older members of the team, or those who had known him previously, never seemed to be listening with much interest.

While fetching a runaway ball, the shadows seemed to grow around the unlit field; the only light was from the lights on the field that was in use. Darkness swallowed the ball up, sending the strange thoughts to the front of Alex’s mind.

This time, however, despite being at the other end of the field, Ryan was feeling it too. He was another member of the team, one of the younger ones. This team was a sixteen and seventeen-year-old mixed team and consisted of mainly the older age group. Alex was also young but was older than Ryan, even if it was only by two months.

The thoughts that ran through Ryan’s head were very similar to Alex’s, in fact far too similar.

I’ve got to stop playing video games.

As soon as he returned to the field, the screeching of the endgame whistle echoed around the oval, distracting his thoughts. Everyone moved off the unlit field and towards the quickly emptying pitch.

Come on, Mitch, get a move on! called Joel, now wearing his serious face.

I’m coming, Mitch began to reply.

Slowly, and that’s not good enough! retorted Joel. Faster!

Mitch quickly ran to join the rest of the group, his eyes avoiding that of the captain’s.

Mitchell, along with Josh and Joel, was older. He had a slightly hunched posture and could somehow hit passes first touch with precise aim and power.

Their coach was giving them tips and hints, which all coaches give right before a game: agreed with but conveniently forgotten once on the pitch. Positions were distributed, and ‘encouraging’ jokes and insults were thrown.

The referee walked on to the field with his two linesmen and blew the whistle.

All in line! Hey, don’t think that doesn’t include you! said Joel, pointing to another team member as they ran on to the field.

I know, Joel, was the sarcastic reply.

Yeah, ‘hero’, he knows! added someone else.

Joel scowled.

How on earth did I wind up with such a stupid nickname?

As the team reached the centre of the field, the opposing team approached. The players shook hands and gave the stereotypical, half-hearted good luck and good game lines.

By now you all know the rules. I want no backchat to me or the linesmen, a clean game and play the whistle.

A silence indicated that everyone understood what the referee was saying. He placed his whistle behind his back, hiding it in one of his hands. Keeping his fingers closed, he brought them around and presented them.

You’re the away team. Pick a hand, said the referee to Joel.

Right… Wait. No, the left one, he replied.

The referee opened his hand. It was empty.

Nope, the whistle was in the other one. Home, you’re going this way. Away kick off, was the ref’s final formal word as the players moved into their positions. Alex was naturally starting on the bench so he headed to the sideline, Ryan right wing, Joel centre midfield, and Josh striker, while Mitch was centre defender, grumbling. He was a good defender, but he much preferred scoring goals than defending them.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

The ball moved back and forth, but the home team had a slight dominance over the plays. All of a sudden, Ryan had offloaded the ball to Joel, who had escaped two opposition players and passed to Josh, who was ready to take it in for a shot.

Alex and Mitch, however, were not looking at where the ball was going. They were looking at the number plate on a car whose lights had just flashed on and off, despite no one being inside: it was 180 OBL.

One eighty, murmured Mitch to himself, but Alex heard it.

The latter felt uneasy again.

It can’t be a coincidence that the numbers that indicate something terrible is about to happen in those stupid Final Destination movies appear on the same night when I feel so odd, can it?

There was a loud cheering as Josh scored the goal, the small crowd either happily shouting or angrily yelling at the teams.

All the team members ran over to Josh, patted him on the back, and shook his hands. Josh smiled and accepted the compliments with a forced humility.

As Josh walked back into his position, he felt an ache in his head that quickly became a strong throbbing inside skull. Shaking his head, the feeling dissipated, only to be replaced by a cranium-splitting pain and images flashing through his mind.

The first was something shattering; it resembled glass. The second was a searing pain racing through his limbs. He felt and saw the projections in his head as if they were real, causing him to stop running and grab his hair, pulling it in agony. Eyes were diverted towards him, and someone moved to help him. He pushed them away as the images overwhelmed him. He fell to his knees and closed his eyes before ejaculating, Shattering, beware shattering!

What? was the response from everyone on the field, including the referee, who had heard people say strange things on the soccer field, but this was by far the most puzzling.

What did he say? asked a concerned Ryan, who was now on the sideline with Alex.

Something about shattering, I think, Alex replied.

Probably full of his own hot air, sniggered Mitch, though nobody was laughing. He enjoyed this opportunity to pay Josh out.

Josh suddenly jerked his eyes open and stood up. He brushed himself off as he gave everyone an intrigued look.

What are you looking at? he asked.

What do you think? asked Joel.

Did something happen?

You just fell over, unless everyone here was simultaneously dreaming, and said something about shattering.

I said something? Really? Are you sure? asked Josh with surprise. Actually, I think… Hang on, is the game still on?

Play on, said the referee, blowing the whistle to signal the continuation of the match, which distracted Josh from his thoughts.

Rolling his eyes, Alex sat back down on to the bench.

I will never understand sportspeople. They say the strangest things, and I swear they’re always injured – uncoordinated fools like me can run forever and never break anything, but with them . . .

Suddenly, Alex felt something tugging at the back of his skull, to the point where he keeled over and groaned.

Are you right? asked the coach, throwing a concerned glance in Alex’s direction before letting his eyes return to the field.

Hold on, what’s going on here? Ref…Ref! the coach yelled.

Josh, Ryan, Mitch, and Joel were all bent over as Alex was, looking as though they were in pain.

The car with the 180 OBL number plates began blaring its horn alarm, sending a high-pitched screaming sound out over the grassy field, which filled everyone’s ears. As if on cue, one of the four powerful lights – which allowed the soccer field to be lit comfortably – surged, flashed on and off, and then exploded, showering the grass with sparks and casting a quarter of the area into darkness.

People began to run and scream, and Ryan fell to the ground, along with Alex, Mitch, Josh, and Joel, who were now all experiencing the same images and pain that Josh had felt only moments earlier.

Then, a sound like the shattering of glass punctured the screeching and the car horn, both of which stopped, leaving a deathly silence in its wake.

Everyone stopped moving. They turned towards the source of the noise. Alex, Ryan, Josh, Mitch, and Joel all snapped upright to see what was happening, noticing that a faint buzzing noise had begun to ring in the back of their heads. The epicentre of the shattering noise was in the direction of the referee, who was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was two black soccer boots and small shards of what appeared to be glass.

Joel ran over to the boots to get a better look; he could feel something was very wrong.

Anyone want to help?

It was then he noticed that no one was moving, bar Alex, Ryan, Josh, Mitch, and himself. Everyone else was still, his or her faces full of surprise and all looking towards the remains of the referee.

I don’t know why you decided to pick on me, but this joke thing is really getting ridiculous. I knew my skills were wasted on the South Coast, sighed Josh impatiently. I didn’t drive an hour to get here to play stuck in the mud.

Wake up, Josh. Can’t you see this is no joke? started Alex, but he stopped once he realised that the frozen figures were not breathing. It’s much more serious.

Do you have that feeling you see in all the movies that tells you something really bad is about to happen? asked Ryan inquisitively.

Do you want me to answer that question? asked Alex, looking around at the frozen statues of people, which dotted the seaside pitch as it lay in half darkness.

Shit.

As soon as the word slipped from Ryan’s mouth, two things happened at once, and so quickly that had there been no outcome, you would have brushed them off as an illusion.

First, all the lights surged off and then flashed back on again, plunging the area into a frightening darkness, which slowly relit as the lights warmed up. Then, all those who were frozen shattered into tiny fragments, leaving only their shoes and clothing behind. Tiny bits of multi-coloured glass-like material flew across the field, slicing and dicing the remaining five players, along with cars, trees, and fences. The tiny knives exploded from their predetermined forms, ripping through everything in their path, be it alive or dead, flesh or stone.

And with that, over seventeen years of planning became a reality.

CHAPTER 1

Savages

Ryan’s face was showered with fragments of the glass-like material, which were razor sharp, shredding his voice box and slicing his right eye, which he watched being ripped into before the vision from it flashed out as it burst. Other shards left gashes on his cheeks, and blood began to ooze from the wounds as the cuts opened and the glass penetrated deep into his skin, wedging itself there. He stopped screaming and closed his mouth to ensure that no fragments entered, and he grabbed his face in pain, covering his dripping eye. He tried to speak, but he could feel warm, thick blood dripping down his throat and no sound emerged from his lips, bar a groan.

Josh was yelling so hard that his voice dissolved into a croaking sound, which stopped as a larger fragment flew towards him. He ducked, only to expose himself to a spray of smaller, sharper shards. His arms and legs became coated with the glass that had once been a part of another being. He tried to get up after his duck, but his legs were too weak, sending him sprawling backwards and the shards deeper into his body. His eyes, half-covered by his bleeding hands, saw his teammates and friends writhing on the ground, and he suddenly was overwhelmed by a sickness that almost caused him to vomit.

Alex had been taking off his jacket when he fell, so his back was left relatively unharmed. His chest, however, was only protected by the flimsy soccer shirt, allowing the glass-like material from the coach’s body to cut right through it, severely injuring his central organs. As he fell back, more shards dug into him, but they only left small pricks on his skin that began to glimmer in the faint light. He tried to remove the glass, but it seemed to drill itself further into his body, so he attempted to get to his feet.

Mitch’s upper body had missed most of the shower, but his legs were deeply cut and bleeding. Sliced skin was peeling away to reveal large red muscles and powerful tendons snapping and twitching in pain. Mitch gulped. He looked down his legs to see that even his high-quality soccer boots had been shredded, and as he looked up, his first thought was not one of fear but rather the amount of money his boots had cost and how they were now completely destroyed. He rotated around to look at Joel, who was looking very messy indeed, sending pain racing through his body as the nerves kicked in. When he gathered up the courage to have another glance at his legs, he saw they were now a deep crimson, and the yellowing grass was following suit.

Joel opened his eyes once the tinkering of glass falling and smashing into the ground subsided. He tried to feel his body over for damage with his hands, but they refused to respond. He slowly sat up and looked at his legs. They were covered in tiny red spots, but the wounds were only superficial, and the glass-like material had only grazed the surface of his skin, rather than lodging itself in it. But his jaw dropped so low that it almost touched the grass when he saw what was left of his arms. They were bleeding rivers of blood, which was now doing a fantastic job of hydrating the grass on which he was lying. On his left, the skin on his forearm was in tatters, and the long, slender tendons were showing. He nearly fainted, but the sheer amount of adrenaline roaring through his body kept his heart moving, and head screwed on. One of the tendons, which had been cut cleanly in half, was dancing around, taunting him with its demented and frightening dance. His right arm was better; however, he estimated that over three quarters of it would have been lacerated. Desperate to look away, he looked towards the centre of the field, where something odd was beginning to happen.

The material that looked very similar to glass, which had, only moments ago, made up the people who had populated the field, was vibrating where it lay and slowly moving towards the centre of the pitch, as if a huge magnet was pulling it together.

Taaats cernetly not righ, rasped Ryan, as he coughed up blood. With his voice box so heavily damaged, he was surprised he was managing to form any words at all.

We have to find the… Joel groaned, . . . first aid kit, whose attempt to stand up was extremely unsuccessful.

I think we’re gonna need more than just first aid somehow, snarled Josh as he looked at his arms and legs, his face paling.

Well, it’s a bloody start, isn’t it, hero? Joel replied, relishing the opportunity to use the nickname he hated so vehemently against the person who coined it.

Joel managed to stumble his way over slowly, and Ryan, still cradling his face, which was dripping with a gooey red and white mixture, actually managed a run that was accompanied by a few harsh words. Mitch was stuck; it seemed some of the shards that penetrated his legs were pinning him to the ground. Alex walked over and tried to free him gently, but to no avail.

Sorry, but this might hurt, said Alex as he grabbed hold of Mitch’s arms.

Mitch didn’t reply; instead, he bit his cheeks.

Alex pulled, and Mitch’s legs came free but tore off the skin that had been pinned, exposing his uncovered flesh to the grass and dirt, which rubbed and scratched it as he was dragged along.

Josh moved like a robot. Very slowly, he managed to meet the others, but he was in severe pain once he sat, or rather collapsed, down.

Does anyone have a mobile phone? asked Alex.

Yes, was the unanimous reply.

Here?

Oh no.

Fantastic. Well, there’s probably a phone in the shed . . .

But we have to get there first, said Joel.

I’ll go, volunteered Alex, pulling has jacket around his torso to hide the growing red stain.

Nice try. You’re not going there like that, replied Joel, seeing the red seeping through the bottom of Alex’s shirt. Anyone good with first aid?

No one replied.

We’re going to have to try – compression is the key.

Alex walked inside the sub’s shelter in search of a first aid kit. He cursed once he remembered that only the home team had a first aid kit. He retraced his steps and walked carefully to avoid the shards, which were moving slowly towards the centre of the field over to the other shelter. He found the first aid kit and dearly hoped that it would be stocked well enough to do the job that was required of it. He sat down with a grunt and unpacked the kit, throwing bandages and dressing to his teammates, doing his jacket up to hide the red that was seeping through his shirt.

Mitch pulled himself over towards Alex, but he palmed Mitch off, instead quickly wrapping Joel’s exposed muscles with a compression bandage, creating an almost substitute skin from the cotton. Josh leant over Ryan and wrapped a patch around his eye and head, allowing Ryan to free his hands and use them to bandage his neck. Once Alex finished on Joel, he spun around to Mitch and created another fake skin, this time around his legs. Only now did Alex reluctantly let Ryan pull his jacket and shirt up in order to wrap a bandage around the former’s bleeding torso.

Josh, thinking his injuries were minimal, stood up and prepared to get help.

You can’t! cried Mitch. Your skin’s about to rip apart.

What? replied Josh, but the statement forced him to double-check. Sure enough, the cuts on his legs were only superficial but deep enough so that his tapestry of skin was unravelling, causing his skin to fracture and crack, red blood dribbling from the cracks. Shit!

He let himself fall to the ground as his limbs began to bleed. Alex hobbled over and with Mitch’s help wrapped up Josh’s arms and legs.

Ryan stood up. He was walking towards the club building to call for help when Mitch interrupted.

Don’t go alone. For all we know, people could still be up there waiting to explode.

I know, was the rasped response. Any better ideas?

Let me go. I’m the least injured of the lot of you.

Alex started towards the club building. He knew it was risky, but he had to keep on moving.

I can’t let them see anything that might remind them of their families – I’m the only one without someone here.

Moving towards the change shed, Alex felt a hand wrap around his ankle.

You’re not going anywhere without one of us, said Mitch, the owner of the hand. It’s too dang . . .

Mitch stopped when he heard a strange rattling noise. Everyone turned towards the source of the sound.

The shards that had been vibrating before were now grouping in the centre of the soccer pitch. The force that had been pulling the shards closer and closer together suddenly increased tenfold, sending pieces zooming into the centre. Even the shards, which had embedded themselves in trees, fences, or flesh, were ripped away and joined the ever-growing clump.

A string of swear words and exclamations filled the night air as the last remaining shards ripped themselves from wounds.

The shards started forming mounds. They piled higher and higher, like living anthills, before they came to a stop. After a brief period of stillness, the mounds began to writhe and shape shift and very quickly began to resemble familiar, human-like shapes.

They’re turning into humans again! was the elated reply from Mitch.

They weren’t humans to start with, observed Joel. Humans don’t explode.

Well, if they’re not human… started Josh, his eyes widening.

The forms continued to grow and stabilise, all the while emitting a growling sound that sounded like that of a pack of angry beasts.

Do humans growl? asked Mitch.

Ryan’s response was close to a growl.

Despite the conditions, Alex quickly smiled.

Not you… He stopped once he noticed the forms had stopped growing.

The glass-like material had formed itself into eleven human-like forms. They had the general shape of humans, but their faces were very loose and lacked defined features. Their eye sockets were empty, and their bodies glinted, as though made from a million roughly cut diamonds. It looked as though it had been melted, then reformed, much like what happens if melted ice cream is refrozen. They also had clawed feet, and despite being naked, there were no signs of gender-differentiating organs. They opened their loose mouths and growled. Though lacking eyes, hunger consumed their crude features, but for the minute, they seemed to be restrained, like attack dogs waiting for their master to utter the command.

Definitely not human! cried Joel. Run!

And with that, the five bloodied and bandaged teenagers stumbled away into the forest surrounding the pitch. As they ran, the growling got louder and developed into a roar. All of a sudden, one of the four huge field lights surged and exploded, sending sparks raining down on to the grass, igniting it. The flames acted like a release word; the glass, human-like creatures began to bound towards the five wounded players with evil burning in their empty sockets. The creatures moved very quickly but had terrible eyesight and were therefore crashing into the many trees that separated the field from both civilisation and the sea, just as their prey burst out the other end of the bushland and on to the beach.

The sea was very close to the field. In fact, it could be heard when the screaming of both parents and players subsided by those present at the field themselves. This gave Ryan an idea; he pointed towards the sea and tried to use what was left of his voice to explain.

Go into the water? You have got to be kidding, cried Josh, slightly too loudly.

Shhh! scolded Joel, now whispering. But the water is freezing!

It’ll cover our trail for now, even if we only use it for twenty metres or so, said Joel.

It also closes the capillaries, slowing the blood flow, added Alex, who, despite the darkness, could clearly see the white bandages had already turned red.

The group trudged on. After bush-bashing their way to the beach, they walked confidently into the water. But for Josh and Mitch, walking with what was left of their legs in the freezing water and soft sand was too much. They both stopped.

There’s no time for stopping! Alex gasped as the icy winter water splashed against his legs.

Ryan agreed with a grunt as they heard the loud sound of branches snapping echo from the trees. The snapping stopped, and a howl followed like one of those howls that scare skin from bone.

Leave us, said Mitch.

Speak for yourself, help me! said Josh as he collapsed into the water with a loud splash.

I was only kidding. Is that the right reply?

I don’t know. How do you propose we get ourselves to… Wait, where are we going?

We have to get to that little stream, and then we can find civilisation and help! Joel replied, indicating a small inlet that was about 100 metres away.

I can’t get up, said Josh exasperatedly.

I might be able to… Mitch stopped as his legs gave out beneath him, and he fell next to Josh. . . . Not get any further.

Ryan indicated his solution. Alex turned to face his fallen comrades as the snapping got louder.

How much do you trust us?

Why? was the reply from both.

I’ll cut this short and take that as a yes, said Alex as he stumbled over towards Josh. How much do you weigh?

I don’t know. Sixty-five maybe? was Josh’s reply.

Righto then, said Alex as he reached down and slid his arms around Josh’s torso. With a huff and a heave, Alex had successfully lifted Josh up and was running towards the stream as fast as he could with an extra sixty odd kilos weighing him down.

I’m surprised you can carry me, stammered Josh, feeling both useless and undignified.

So am I, panted Alex, stumbling through the waves.

Oh no, it’s my turn now, isn’t it? asked Mitch apprehensively.

Mh, was Ryan’s reply as he bent down and lifted Mitch up and followed Alex.

Joel wanted to help, but with such limited use of his arms, he could not; the blood had already begun to run down his wrists.

I don’t know what we’re going to do once the adrenaline runs out or our blood, whichever comes first.

Hold on, said Josh over the splashing of Alex, Ryan, and Joel, where are the creatures?

They listened and realised that the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching had ceased.

I’ll have a look, said Joel, looking for anyway he could be of assistance. He ran back towards the other end of the beach.

The other four reached the inlet and deduced they would walk a little upstream to throw the creatures off the scent a little more. Joel’s voice floated towards them.

Water! he roared. They’re in the water!

Joel had run along the beach, scouring it for signs of the creatures. Finally, he saw tracks that followed theirs down the sand and into the sea. He was now running back towards the inlet at breakneck speed. Ryan and Alex just ran faster, but Josh and Mitch looked back and saw the water moving and swirling behind them.

They’re coming! called the two who were being carried along the inlet while their chauffeurs panted and puffed under their weight.

We know! was Alex’s reply; Ryan’s was an odd mutter.

The moving surface of the water broke, and six glass figures rose up from it. They roared and screeched and ran after the four humans. One was getting far too close for comfort so Mitch broke off a low branch and threw it. It made its mark, and the head of the creature shattered.

Ha! Mitch called triumphantly, but it was too soon.

The headless creature stopped and fell, its body swaying and swinging, disoriented. This period of relief did not last, however, as the creature soon began rebuilding and repairing the damage; sucking up the glass shards from the water, it had soon fashioned a new head and was racing after its targets again. Finally, Alex and Ryan could not hold their teammates any longer. The combination of wet soccer socks, boots, and shin pads, the weight of their cargo, and the threat of being attacked was all too much. Mitch saw Alex’s arms shaking violently and gave a strict command.

Put us down. You’re gonna hurt yourselves.

Alex and Ryan were too weak to mutter a noise, but their actions showed they had heard. They walked towards a clearing about twenty metres upstream and stumbled over the bank. They tried to lower their passengers slowly to the ground, but they ended up dropping them on to the grass.

Sorry, was Alex’s panted response. Strength isn’t my forte.

I’m not sure what a forte is, but thanks, replied Josh, slowly attempting to move his limbs again.

Yes, thanks, added Mitch. They could hear the howling and the roaring getting closer with every passing second.

We should be okay in this clearing. There’re trees on all but one side, said Alex, now that his breath had returned.

That means only one way in… started Josh.

And one way out, finished Ryan.

The creatures began rising from the water. Alex and Ryan, though exhausted, forced themselves to find extra strength, and they quickly grabbed sticks to use as weapons. Josh and Mitch dragged themselves towards a large pile of rocks, and they prepared their throwing arms.

I hope Alex’s better at fighting than he is at playing soccer, said Josh, loud enough so that Mitch could hear. Unfortunately, Alex and Ryan heard as well.

I don’t know. I’m not good with the whole coordination thing, said Alex, smiling.

Mitch and Ryan both gave Josh a scowl once they realised Alex had heard.

I don’t mind, Alex continued. It’s true, isn’t it?

Josh felt the colour return to his cheeks.

Good work, buddy, let’s impress people by not being a complete twat. Oh, whoops, too late.

Sorry, Alex, I just meant . . .

Bigger problems! They’re here! shouted Mitch, and everyone moved into battle positions.

Alex and Ryan hobbled towards the creatures. The first two creatures were felled with ease, but they shattered, spraying glass shards everywhere.

I’ve seen enough glass shards for lifetime, grunted Alex as he jumped back to avoid increasing his already climbing list of injuries.

Alex and Ryan smashed their way through the six creatures, but by the time they had all been destroyed, the first two had reformed themselves and were returning to their prey.

They’re immortal. We’ll be here forever! called Alex in frustration.

Mitch and Josh looked at each other and nodded.

Duck! cried Josh and Mitch.

Alex and Ryan guessed what was about to happen, so they threw themselves to the ground.

Mitch and Josh launched large stones at the monsters, smashing the creatures and spreading the pieces so far from each other the creatures took longer to reform. After what was only five minutes but felt like a lot longer, the ‘glass’ stopped reforming altogether.

That took too long, said Josh. Alex . . .

Joel! Ryan called. He’s not here!

The other seven creatures! said Mitch, making the connection.

But it was too late. The ‘glass’ now moved as a large mass, part of it wrapping around Alex tightly, securing all his limbs, with another part burying a struggling Ryan, who was losing the fight for control. Josh and Mitch were crawling away as fast as they could, but they were soon buried, with only their heads exposed.

Alex grunted as he was engulfed. Ryan tried to speak, but his face was quickly covered, as were the rest of Josh and Mitch, in seconds. Then a low voice rang out, The others are ready.

*     *     *

Joel tried to catch the others, but as he splashed through the inlet, one of the creatures rose from the water in front of him. Joel stepped back and heard the others approaching from behind. He darted to the left, jumped on to the bank, and ran into the foliage. It was far denser here; the route from the field had been very open, and it had a very faint path. This area had many shrubs and bushes, which slowed Joel’s progress considerably. Once he was completely engulfed by the flora, Joel looked around and realised he was completely disoriented.

Josh? Mitch? called Joel desperately as he heard branches snap. They seemed to come from every direction.

Could have done that better. What do they want?

He found out soon enough.

To his left, the creatures ripped through the leaves, hissing and growling at him menacingly. One of them stumbled forward and held out its hand.

Take it. We can heal you! was the rasping command.

Really? was the sarcastic response. And why would you want to do that?

You need us. We need you.

You killed everyone except us, injured us horribly. Now we need you?

Yes.

No, spat Joel. Besides, when did you gain the ability to engage in the privilege of speech? All I could hear were dogs.

Do you still think this is a joke? We are the ultimate fighting warrior-class robots – the new pawns in the battle for this planet. Our masters will bring forward a new beginning, and everyone will be able to start anew.

Our masters?

The ones in control. Them. This was a pre-programmed conversation. We do not have free will. You have never had free will.

Joel attempted to run when, out of nowhere, two of the glass figures grabbed him and gripped his wounded arms.

Crying out and clenching his teeth, they pushed harder and harder. The creature that had spoken moved forward.

Now will you help us?

Joel wanted to say something witty and clever, but he resisted.

What kind of help do you want?

You really have no idea what you’re a part of… the creature replied, its loose features forming a barely recognisable smile. It is time for the final operation. The last phase of the experiment.

And once I give you what you want, you’ll kill me, said Joel flatly. Don’t think I’ve never seen a government conspiracy movie.

We know you’ve seen those movies. In fact, we know far more about you than you think… We won’t kill you… was the reply. Yet.

A howling laugh cut through the stiff air around them.

It’s serious.

He stared right into the creature’s empty eyes, before throwing his restraints to the ground. He turned to run when his cranium was filled with a head-splitting pain. He dropped to his knees, incapacitated.

I had to try the easy way… Oh well. Get his hand! called the creature. Joel’s captors grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet. The pain in Joel’s head stopped.

Joel struggled to free himself, but as the creatures pressed their claw-like fingers into his damaged flesh, he gave in.

Joel watched his hand. It was shoved forward in the direction of the creature that had been speaking. The creature’s hand writhed and moved, as if it was alive. Just before the hands touched, a voice rang out, The others are ready.

The creature smiled as best it could with its pathetic excuse for a face. The two hands moved closer and closer together, and with a final struggle, both hands touched.

Lots of things happened at once. Again.

Joel felt a pulse of electricity travel through him, but strangely, it did not hurt, though he could feel it dive into the back of his skull and wedge itself there. He felt a chunk of the skin of his hand get ripped off and winced. Once Joel’s DNA was collected by the creature, it fired bolts of energy into the clearing. The bolts began to leap about, lighting up the forest and beach in a fancy lightshow. They stretched towards the sky and were soon above the treeline, desperately trying to grasp the sky and hold on to it.

The remaining three lights that were still on at the soccer field surged and exploded, firing sparks in all direction. As planned, enough of them landed on the ground to set fire to the grass once again. The fire that had started earlier on the field had gone out, but this one roared and blazed cheerfully. The trees nearby were soon alight, and the flames were spreading fast. Despite the winter conditions, the sandy soil meant the grass never really took off, especially with the lack of recent rain and heavy use. The monsters around Joel let him go and melted away into the trees, but Joel was stunned. He could not move. The flames were travelling to the sea. And he was in the way.

*     *     *

The glass that had, only moments ago, buried Ryan, Alex, Josh, and Mitch was releasing its prisoners and, once again travelling as a huge mass, splashed back into the stream and disappeared. Powerful energy bolts were cracking in the night sky.

That’s odd, said Josh suspiciously.

It must be those energy bolts. They either scared them or… Mitch pondered.

It’s a retreat signal, was Alex’s reply.

Maybe that’s where they have Joel, said Mitch.

It’s a start. But how are we supposed to get there? Alex stopped once he saw the field lights explode, and the group were plunged into darkness.

The field lights were very large, and they illuminated not only the field but also the surrounding area. The beach was so close to the field that it was actually lit up quite brightly. The small clearing that the four had stopped in was further away from the field but still received some light. Now, everything was very dark. That night there was a full moon, but it took a long time for the teenagers’ eyes to adjust, causing them to stumble around blindly.

I’m still on the ground! wailed Josh.

Stop! rasped Ryan as loud as he could.

A deathly silence followed. Nevertheless, it was quickly broken by the sound of crackling.

Fire, whispered Josh.

Exactly. We have to find Joel! said Alex.

They heard a snapping of branches and a semi-familiar panting from across the stream. They picked up whatever objects they could to use as weapons.

There you are! called a battered and bruised Joel as he emerged from the bushes and crossed the creek. You really thought you could stop one of those glass creatures with a stick?

It worked for us, said Alex in surprise. They just shattered.

That’s not what happened to me… said Joel, and he quickly explained what he had experienced as they walked from the clearing.

The fire’s getting closer. We’ve got to move, said Joel with a leadership-like stance.

We’re moving, hero, said everyone bar Ryan, who, as was becoming commonplace, simply grunted.

The reunited group was now moving as fast as they could, away from the steadily approaching flames. After bush-bashing for almost 100 metres, they emerged at the waterside. This time, a small steel pier was in front of them. It was only eight or nine metres long, and the water below it was shallow. No boats were tied up to it, but a small boat shed was nearby.

We could use the boat in there to get away, said Mitch.

If the flames come, we’ll be boiled alive, muttered Alex, frowning.

Boat or no boat, there’ll be supplies in there, said Joel.

They struggled on towards the boat shed, only to discover it was locked.

Alex made a strange, sad noise.

What? asked Josh.

Never mind, replied Alex.

Joel pulled up behind them, rolling a log along the beach with his feet.

Try using this, said Joel.

Ryan and Alex picked up the large log and used it as a battering ram. On the third try, the rusted lock snapped and the doors of the boat shed swung open. Josh walked in and fumbled around until he located the light switch. He clicked the lights on and revealed a small tin boat that was decorated in bright colours. The shed was lined with tools, and there, on the top shelf behind the boat, was an emergency beacon. Next to it were long-lasting food supplies like spam and canned fruit.

I love spam! cried Mitch hungrily.

What? was the surprised response from the others.

What? In small amounts it’s probably good for you, especially as it’s so full of salt.

We need to find a way to get up there first, said Joel.

*     *     *

Shattering people, exploding lights, screams of pain, and howling glass creatures do not usually go unnoticed, and this occurrence was no exception. Some citizens were roused by the sound of the explosions and roaring and had arrived to investigate. Once they arrived, they saw the lights sparking and the field and it surrounds alight.

Quick, someone call the firefighters! said one man.

I’ll do that… damn! My iPhone has no reception here! was the worried response.

Bother it then, said the first man as he pulled out a phone, which was actually only one-year-old but looked like it was about twenty. I’ll use this.

What is that? A satellite phone or something?

No, now stow it! The first man was now busily talking to the fire brigade when they heard the sound of a plane in the distance.

What is a jet plane doing anywhere near here? asked the second man aloud.

Every department is on its way. We’ve been ordered to keep clear. And I have no idea, said the first man thoughtfully.

*     *     *

I still can’t reach it! growled Mitch crossly from his precarious perch. In an effort to access the beacon, they had piled three toolboxes on top of each other, a log and a tin of paint. Mitch felt this makeshift ladder wobble and jumped off it as it collapsed beneath him.

Alex, crossing his arms and screwing up his face thoughtfully, hid the wince as his arms crossed his wounded chest.

Ryan had been looking outside for something that might help them reach the high shelf when he heard the jet planes overhead. He thought he might be hearing things so waited until the planes flew over a second time. Now he was sure of it.

Jets? So far from the Naval and Air Base? Hardly a coincidence.

Plane! croaked Ryan as he stuck his head back on to the shed. The others turned away from what they were doing and started to listen. The screeching of the supersonic engines echoed through the night, over the crackling of the flames nearby.

Oh no, moaned Josh.

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard someone say that tonight… said Mitch.

You’d be a very rich man, finished Joel.

They all smiled. But their smiles disappeared as they heard the whistling. And their mouths dropped as they heard the shells fall.

*     *     *

A day earlier, Mr Jackson was visiting the new American Antarctic base. It had been finished for about three months, and Mr Jackson was there to see how well the money had been spent.

It is important that even the vice-president makes sure everything is running smoothly, he had told the press before his departure.

The new base, A1, was located on the edge of the Shackleton ice shelf near the Australian Casey base. It had three levels: two of these were below ground and the other above. A state-of-the-art nuclear power reactor along with conventional solar and tidal generators provided the plant with power.

Mr Jackson had just returned from a core-drilling expedition, which had been very difficult as during the winter months Antarctica was in darkness. He had been removing his big orange protection jacket when he was invited to see the research centre in full function.

Mr Jackson, the new core we just extracted is being sampled. Would you like to watch the process? asked one of the professors.

A great idea, I would love to, said Mr Jackson in his deep voice and thick American accent.

He was led to the elevator and was soon descending to the second underground floor. He walked past various other research areas: plants, animals, weather patterns, and finally core sampling. He watched as the core was carried carefully into the room that was equipped with a special circular saw that could cleanly cut the ice cores in half without damaging them. It was the most precise core-cutting device in the world. As the trained scientists placed the core on the table, Mr Jackson walked around to the glass-viewing window, which allowed him to see clearly into the room. As the saw started spinning and the core was pushed towards the rapidly spinning blades, Mr Jackson relaxed for the first time since he had been visiting the base; he had been filled with a sense of foreboding since he arrived, and it had finally lifted.

*     *     *

Outside the centre, a small buggy rolled up, emerging from the icy plains. A man, dressed in white as to blend in with the barren landscape, was drilling a hole in the crust ice. The hole, about a metre deep and thirty centimetres wide, was being stuffed with putty. Once the first hole was full, the man moved on to the next one. He made ten of these putty-filled holes, surrounding the new base in a semicircle; he left the side that faced the sea.

The man then jumped into the buggy and drove away into the distance. Before he did that, he left a large piece of material on the ice and then hammered it in. Once he was a good three kilometres away, he pulled out a small control panel, extended the antenna, and pressed the big red button.

*     *     *

Mr Jackson had been enjoying the ice-core demonstration and sampling when the whole building shook. Naturally, the warning signs began to flash, and the siren rang through