CHILLER: The Return.

By Peter Birkett Thompson

The earth is under attack. A race of alien creatures desires it for their own use. They have sent ahead two scouts to make preparations for their coming. Only a small band of unlikely allies stand in their way.

"John's first step outside seemed to echo. He stopped before he took another. It felt strange. He too

• Language: English
• Publisher: PBT Publishing
• Release date: Jul 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781739496432

Peter Birkett Thompson

www.peterbirkettbooks.com

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CHILLER

Peter Birkett Thompson

Copyright © 2021 Peter Birkett Thompson

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

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1

The wind was blowing in fits and starts, sending swirls of fresh snow in random patterns around the two Roman soldiers and their horses. They were making their way, in the fading light of dusk, along the recently built road that led back to their barracks.

Curse Caesar for wanting to invade such a loathsome place; metals a plenty in the ground or not.  Atticus said. His friend, Petronius, replied.

You know, cursing the Emperor is a serious offence, he likes his subjects loyal. Also, it could get you flogged.

"Petronius, my good friend, if you wish to report me, please go ahead; if they sent me away for punishment, at least I would be out of this barren, dreadful place. The Province Britannia,...thenorth western branch, to be exact. Why we are out here on policing duties is beyond any reason: there is no one around here but us and the odd bird that has stayed for the winter. You know, Hadrian has the brilliantly inspired idea to build a wall across the whole damned north. Construction starts as soon as the weather improves, so they say.That’s if it ever does improve."

What is the point of such a wall?

To keep those savages out. Have you ever seen the far northerners?

I can’t say that I have.

Then you are fortunate. They are a wild and unwashed bunch of savages. They will never amount to anything good, let me tell you.

Can’t we just send a legion to wipe them out? Seems like a simpler option.

They hide like rats and run like dogs. For them, there is nothing else to do up there except breed, fight amongst their own kind, and attack us. Not a lot of appreciation they have shown for Rome attempting to bring some light and civilisation into their existence. Thankless curs! The land to the far north is wild and untamed and….cold…..even colder than this. Atticus shivered. Petronius nodded in agreement.

I know. It’s tough. Why could we not get the good fortune to be posted to Egypt, as did my brother.

"It’s too hot there; for me at least. What I really want is somewhere in the middle. Like Gaul, or even better... home."

They send us where they send us; it’s in the lap of the gods. said Petronius.

The lap of Caesar more like. corrected Atticus. Then, from out of nowhere, came a strange sound, alien to either soldier. It gradually increased in volume.

What, by the gods, is that noise? Petronius wondered.

I know not. said Atticus. Then he looked up and saw something in the sky. What is that? A comet? Petronius also looked up and noticed a bright object shooting across the sky.

I don’t know. They say such a thing was in the sky the night Jesus was born, in Bethlehem town. he said.

If you actually believe in those tales. Atticus said, curtly, Whatever it is, it is getting closer to the ground, and also closer to us. They watched as the mysterious object hurtled down to ground level about a mile from where they were.

Should we inform the commander? Petronius asked his friend.

No, first, let us go and check it out: it is but a short haul. It is just as far back to the barracks. Come. At least it has interrupted the boredom. With that, they spurred their horses off at a brisk pace to where the mysterious thing had landed. Their expert horse training enabled them to cover the uneven ground swiftly and efficiently. Soon, they closed in on the location where the flying object came down to Earth. Atticus beckoned to Petronius to move slowly; they could see that the thing had flatted a couple of trees on its way down. It was now stationary and billowing out copious amounts of smoke and steam.

What kind of demon’s chariot is that? Petronius wondered. They both scanned the large object that was making a dull humming sound, Some type of witchcraft it would appear.

Something the like of which I have never seen. You see, I told you this country would make madmen out of us. Atticus quipped.

It is the size of a dozen chariots. Petronius marveled. Both soldiers struggled to keep the horses beneath them under control. They rarely got spooked like this.

The noise from the strange craft stopped. It seemed to the two soldiers that the dragon had stopped breathing. The only sounds were the snort of the horses and the stamp of their feet in the snow. The soldiers looked at each other again, unable to fathom out what was happening. I should go back and get the Centurion. You should wait here and keep watch over this thing. said Petronius.

Why don’t I go and you keep watch? suggested Atticus. He turned, but as he did so, there was a loud rumble and creaking noise which made him turn back. They both watched in amazement as the strange object pitched and then was eaten up by the ground that was unable to support its weight. Before long, fresh snow covered any trace that anything had landed. The soldiers trotted their animals nearer to where the object had been. Caution Petronius, the ground here is very unstable. said Atticus, quietly, as though the very noise of his voice might cause further pot holes to appear. They approached carefully, but could see nothing other than the hint of a disturbance in the ground that seemed to have collapsed and then filled itself in.

It is gone. said Petronius, What should we do?

Atticus thought for a moment. Snow will cover it completely soon. Forget the whole thing. If we tell anyone what we saw, they will send us to the wall for sure, or the mines, thinking we had gone insane.

Perhaps you are right. Let us get back and get warm. Perhaps some wine. The horses need feeding. The two soldiers turned and headed back towards their barracks, heavy snow was still swirling around them.

As decided, they told no one of their strange encounter. It would remain a secret between them and the two loyal horses.

For several weeks after the event, if Atticus and Petronius were in their own company, they would mention the night when they saw the strange object fall to ground. As the months passed, it was mentioned less seldom.

In the fullness of time, they would be sent to guard the massive wall construction, just as they had feared. Petronius was killed in the first year by a northern raiding party. Atticus got himself sent back to Rome after a block of stone fell onto his foot. Some said that he dropped it on himself.

2

At roughly the same spot, just over two thousand years later, it’s not snowing, but it’s colder than an average mid October. Andrew Gold is heading down to the small shop on the high street that he has been renting for just over a month. True to the word he gave to himself, he has quit being a chef and has started a small business repairing and selling IT equipment. He’s attending a college course at night, with the brilliant idea that if he gets a problem he can’t solve, he can always ask the tutor the next time he is in class.

He walks past several different shops before reaching the dry-cleaners, at which point he slows down to a snail’s pace and checks out both his reflection in the window and the member of staff behind the counter. When he has passed the shop, he speeds up again. A little further along, he arrives at his new IT solutions venture and looks up at the sign above the door before entering; it’s not perfect, but he got a decent deal on it.

Mick, a friend from Andy’s chef days, also enters a minute later.

I saw you checking out the laundry girl pal. Mick says. Don’t tell me you took your suit to be dry cleaned again?

Nope, that was last week.

"That girl from the dry cleaners must be getting suspicious. No one gets their suit cleaned twice in one month; especially when they’ve never worn it in between. What did you do accidently drop it in a puddle of water?"

I never thought of that. Andy says, thinking it’s potentially a good strategy.

Why not just ask her out and have done with it; put yourself out of your misery. Your method looks desperate and women can smell that kind of desperation a mile off.

Well, it was a conversation starter. Anyway, I only have the one suit.

If she was interested, you would know by now. You need to increase business here by 20% just to cover the dry cleaning bill. Your one and only suit will start falling to bits, but it will be the cleanest suit in all of Northumberland.

Amusing as ever. says Andy. Mick sits down at a desk and begins working on repairing a mobile phone. Any luck with that? Andy asks.

Chinese crap.

"You mean it is Chinese crap? Or it is because you can’t fix it. Is it not just the battery if it won’t charge?" Mick lifts up the phone to look at the back of it and the battery falls out, clattering onto the ground.

It is now.

Thorough, you are very thorough. Andy says. You know, when you told me you were good at fixing mobile phones, I actually believed you.

I am good…usually.

"Ok, how many phones have you actually fixed, I mean what is the total number to date?"

Well, technically speaking? So far...one.

One. Whose was that?

Actually, it was my own.

"The way things are going, it looks like the total is going to stay at one."

Hey, this is my day off remember. I’m helping you out. You could always learn to do them yourself.

"Ok. Keep trying. My course doesn’t cover phone repairs, just computers, laptops and networks. That course was an extra two hundred quid. Andy says. Anyway, ye of little faith; the trips to the dry cleaners worked: I’m meeting her after work." Andy says, with a slight hint of triumph in his voice. Mick is so surprised that he breaks away from the phone repair.

What..do you mean, like a date?

"Well, not exactly a date."

Well what then?

I’m meeting her at that building site. I’m going to join her on the protest.

Do you mean the building site that is going to dislodge a load of badgers? AKA, the one that you don’t give a toss about?

True, but she does not know that.

"It baffles me why they didn’t build first and then say; oh by the way it’s going to be disturbing all this wildlife. Someone f’ed up."

It’s not just badgers.

Have you ever seen a badger?

Yeah, of course…on TV. There’s endangered birds as well and foxes.

"I admit, the laundry girl is a fox and she’s the only one you are interested in." Mick sits back in his chair and puts on his wise face. "I’m telling you, kissing her ass will only lead to the dreaded friend-zone."

Well, I’m just going to show her I’m not like the usual riff-raff around here, and that I care about my community and the environment. Andy says with defiance.

The best you will get is a two for one discount on your dry-cleaning bill. Have I taught you nothing these past months/years?

You have taught me plenty. Anyway, I feel a breakthrough coming.

At least you want to date again. Mick says, philosophically.

Andy thinks about the last thing Mick has just said. It’s true; he does feel like a corner has been turned. His ex-wife, Jane, is still local, which means he gets to see his kids regularly. Her plans to move away had died along with her boyfriend. Things are looking up. Being self employed felt good, all he needed to do now was to start making decent, regular money and he’d feel even better. He already had some loyal customers, one of whom, Bill, is about to enter his shop. Bill usually appears, like clockwork, on Tuesdays and Fridays. He looks to be in his…it’s actually hard to guess his age by looks alone, he could be anywhere from in his mid-forties to mid-sixties. He is eccentric, most people would say, generally dressing in a long trench coat or biker jacket and fedora hat. He survives off disability benefits, and lives without the desire for the normal worldly possessions that the average person might aspire to. Instead, he collects unusual items.

For some, as yet unexplained reason, Bill has not got a bank card or visa card and only ever carries cash, usually in a fairly well stacked wallet. He also seems to have quickly latched on to Andy as a way of acquiring the weird and wonderful objects he desires. Andy gained Bill’s immediate trust after successfully repairing his laptop. He had then commented on the Star Wars screen saver Bill had previously installed, correctly identifying which one of the several films it was taken from. This had impressed Bill.

Today, Mick sees Bill in the flesh for the first time. Andy has mentioned him in passing. Bill has a Johnny Depp Pirates of the Caribbean style moustache and beard. He enters the shop with an ornate walking stick, then stops motionless. Mick suppresses the desire to either snort a laugh or stare incredulously.

Bill, are you alright? Andy greets him.

Bill nods. You got anything in for me? Bill asks. Andy consults a shopping list he has made of Bill’s latest requirements.

Hang on, the watch that goes backwards is here...the talking parrot…

Robot talking parrot. Bill corrects.

"Yes, the robot parrot, not yet, although it’s due in any day. Andy says, as he takes out the watch and shows it to Bill. See, the hands go backwards; the numbers are in different places."

Bill looks impressed as he studies the watch. Yes, I like it. Order me another one please. Bill says. Mick’s facial expression goes blank.

"Ok Bill, it came from overseas, so it might take a while. Twenty pounds. Bill hands over the money from his weathered black wallet, and then places the watch in a leather bag.

"I also want two posable skeletons, about six inches tall."  requests Bill.

Posable? For Halloween coming up? Andy asks.

"Halloween? No. They have to have moveable joints, so they can fit on an action-man sized motorbike." Bill says. Mick’s facial expression changes once again.

Ok Bill, leave that with me. Andy says. Andy does not mind ordering all these random items, he can usually find what Bill wants on e-bay or elsewhere online.

The red jacket of the postman appears at the door, he’s quite a laid back character, so laid back it beggars belief that anyone actually gets their post and he doesn’t just give up delivering half way around. Today though, he has a look of disdain on his face.

Good morning sir. Andy says. The postman just sighs and produces a package from his bag. What’s up? Andy asks. The postman clarifies.

This thing. he places the package firmly on the table. It’s been talking to me the whole way around. The postman opens the package to reveal Bill’s robot parrot. Right on cue, the parrot repeats what the postman has just said. It’s been driving me mad. Whoever sent it left it switched on. It repeats everything…sometimes twice!

Twice? asks Bill.

Bill, the Eagle has landed. Well…parrot. Andy says. The postman shrugs and leaves. Bill looks impressed. Forty pounds Bill please, including delivery. Bill hands over the money, as he does so he asks.

Can you get me a second one?

A second one? Andy asks.

Yes, so they can talk to each other.

Of course. says Mick, like it’s the most natural request in the world.

I’ll see what I can do Bill. That one took some finding. Andy says. Bill nods and leaves, pleased with his new items. Mick sits up in his chair.

How many watches have you gotten for him? Mick asks.

I don’t know.

Roughly?

Twenty or so.

You can only wear one at once.

He wears two at once. Andy clarifies.

It’s not ethical selling him all this junk at an inflated price. He is obviously one sandwich short of a picnic.

Ethics? From you? Anyway, to him it’s not junk.

Well, look at this way, whatever profit you make on his stuff pays for your dry-cleaning bill.

"Of course, I add a small finder’s fee. Time is money. Anyway how else would he get these things, he has no-one else he trusts. It wouldn’t be fair on him to say no  I'm not getting you that and he really looks forward to the new stuff."

You’re all heart.

3

Money was starting to come in from the business, not very quickly, as yet, but that was only to be expected. It would probably take a year or two to build up trade enough to make a reasonable profit. He estimated that he had a year’s worth of funds left, if he lived frugally.

"Hey if you don’t try you’ll never know." Mick had said to him in the pub, on the night when Andy had the original idea of starting the new business. Mick then went on to say Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He had also said that he was good at repairing mobile phones and would help him out in his spare time. Some words of wisdom, after five pints of beer, are more grounded in reality than others.

Andy felt no pressure to succeed. After all the crazy events of the last year, he was taking a more relaxed and philosophical view on life. The general feeling that things will work out if they are supposed to permeated his outlook on life. It was not that he felt particularly charmed, but he did feel a sense that something was watching over him. Possibly Ramesh. It was a calming serenity that had settled in and it was probably aided by the fact that he was no longer struggling financially and no longer running around like a headless chicken in a hot kitchen day and night.

So far...so good. And, the unexpected extra income made from sourcing things for Bill, often paid around half the rent on the shop. That guy seemed to have unlimited funds.

The way that Andy had reacted when he first saw Anna had surprised him. Anna being the twenty something girl that worked in the dry-cleaners a few doors further up from his shop. It was a teenage schoolboy style of instant crush that he hadn’t felt the like of since...school days. Not even with Jane did he ever get the classic butterflies in the gut feeling like he did when he saw Anna. Encouragingly, he could actually imagine being involved with someone else, other than Jane, which had seemed impossible only six months previously. Things were moving forward.

The shop had again been quiet that day. It had been mainly just enquiries and estimates. A retired old lady had asked him to help with topping up her mobile phone’s credit, which he had done for free.

At closing time, his attention turned to meeting Anna later on. The new building site, right on the cusp of a green belt, had been drawing a lot of attention, most of it negative. Andy had not been sure what a green beltactually was, Mick said it was one of the stages in Karate, and he had to Google it to find out. He had already heard of animal conservation, but thought that was something relating to Africa or the North Pole, not the north east of England. The other big topic that Anna, and now by default, he himself seemed to be concerned about, was global warming. Not exactly a novel crisis. Since Greta Thunberg appeared on tv, even the kids were concerned by it. Andy had thought that this sounded harmless enough and warmer might actually be better; especially if you lived in the U.K. But most critics, Anna included, thought it was very dangerous. She had several reasons as to why it needed to be protested against. Andy had listened intently as she had ranted on about this subject, as she was handing over his freshly dry-cleaned suit for the second time. He had nodded, not really listening to her arguments fully, but instead admiring the way she still looked good, even in the polyester uniform. When she had paused for breath and then said. Are you going to come along to the protest? he had to snap himself out of a minor trance. He did catch the nature of her request though and filled in the gaps.

"Yes, for sure. It’s so important to protect the planet and all the species that live on it." He didn’t know exactly where that last comment came from, but she had seemed to like it.

So tonight he found himself getting ready for his first outing as an eco-warrior. What did eco-warriors wear? He pondered. He googled images of other similar protests and it seemed that a high percentage of them liked to wear NorthFace outdoor clothing. The ratio of NorthFace clothing compared to other brands in the pictures he saw was higher than you would expect in a group of people. NorthFace was a quality, but not inexpensive brand and Andy did not possess any. There were some individuals in the protest pictures he viewed that looked like they actually lived in