They

I sit upon the cold wet rock, draw my knees up, and wrap my arms about them. I slowly inhale, holding for a moment, then gently exhale, allowing the chilly rich salt air to fuel me. How long have we been here..? Four months...I think...least that’s what it feels like... though it could easily be longer...
Normally I can see for miles... but, today there’s a mist... I stare at the cold clear green sea, I listen to the tiny waves... as they gently crack, slurp and slap against the hard brown rock of “The Point” and watch these tiny waves gently roll away from me to collide with each other, in a chaos stream of confusion; before they finally writhe snakelike, upon the long arch of the sandy beach.
Beyond the beach, rise the grassy bank and sand dunes... I can see them picked out; almost ghostlike in serrated lines of black and grey.
I turn around and look up. The distant white sun is blocked by the shadow of our home; St Mary’s lighthouse, on the edge of Whitley Bay.
I recall my Dad and Mum bringing me here; long before "they" came.

I recall The excitement of the trip, the strange smell of the car, as it battled down the narrow roads. My dad smiling, his face large and round, his eyes brown, alive, yet almost hidden by thick bushy eyebrows, as he spoke grandly about the history of the Lighthouse. While my mother, sat or stood silently clock-watching... her face, pinched, her body, tightly wrapped up in her dark turquoise Mack; her tightly rolled hair, hidden from view in a yellow scarf around her narrow face... bitterly complaining about the weather, the trip, or her marriage to a man she never really loved, or the fact that I would very proberbly puke before we got there... and usually, and sometimes out of spite I did...

I'm brought back to the present by hearing Alice, as she staggers over the rocks... I smile as I see her staggering towards me with her scraped knees and scuffed hands... but there are no tears... tears are for the ones lost, not for scabs, scrapes or scuffs... For they remind us how lucky we are that we still breathe, still see the stars at night, or the fact that, despite it all, we still can fight.
I see him in her face... Gaz... then I look down and away from her, as, his gentle muscular hands, his red tousled hair fading to a wispy grey, the kind, yet penetrative stare from his large blue, green eyes… come to the forefront of my mind... I think of the feel of his stubble, around his narrow square jaw... I recall how itchy it felt, and the feel of the hard calloused skin of his hands as they slowly and very gently... stroked mine, as our bodies heated collided together in the urgency and need for intimacy.
‘Mummy?’ Alice asks waking me from my muse.
‘-what is it dear?’
There is a long pause.
‘ I had the dream again last night.’ she said awkwardly.
‘ –We’re safe here.’
‘-But, what if they can-‘
‘ -No.’
I reach over and hold her, and pull back to stare, as sincerely as I can, into her beautiful green eyes, that shine so very bright.
‘I promise you… ‘ I say, feeling unsure that I believe it myself. ‘…That...they can't get us here.’
‘-But...Gaz-‘
I feel anger build. Anger at being left to fend for two girls and a baby boy on my own. And anger at Alice. Who has no idea what sweaty, blistered scab, she has innocently scraped off. I want to scream and yell, instead I say something else.
‘Gaz is dead!’
It comes out with too much force, and I instantly regret it.
Alice looks at me with sad pain-filled eyes; and she pulls away.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’ She starts to shout. You blame me!’ she screams, as she falters as she steps back. ‘You think it was my fault.’
I shake my head and try to reach for her, to hold her close, not so much for her, but for me. But she fights me off and runs to the safety of the lighthouse; leaving me with my memories.

We called them "they" because we honestly didn’t know what else to call them. After all; what can you call the un-nameable..? 25 years ago, the world was burned by an asteroid that impacted within the pacific ocean.
The incident caused unprecidented damage on a global scale... but that was just the beginning... because something was in the rock that crashed into our planet...something... vast cold and unsympathetic (as Wells would say)something that interacted with our planet's ocean species...causing the species within it to change, or evolve,into creatures that simply defy description yet, also have a vastly superior intelligence and able to adapt itself to it's new surroundings...
it began with fishing boats far out at sea, then, our nuclear submarines... within months Our coastal cities fell one at a time, as they came out from the sea, devouring humaniity, with their huge hideous saw shaped teeth that grated in their vast circular holes for mouths, their wet blubbery flesh seems to have the appearance of leather, yet still had the power to absorb everything we tried to kill them with... I can recall seeing T.V footage of bullets bouncing off the side of the creatures manking thier flesh wobble like heavy blubber, that then burst open to allow spores of huge insect like creatures, to fly into the sky... like locusts they devoured the inland towns ... so we hid underground in the cellars or in the sewers... and for an age unknown we waited...
When we returned to the sun; we found a world changed beyond all recognition. Now They stalk the land on enormous tendill legs, they stride over the decimated cities that we once prided ourselves upon; or they writhe snakelike, through the ocean virtually unseen; pulling people from the beaches with enormous slavering tentacles; while they fly far inland, bombarding us with an acid from thier tails or burn us with flames from their huge triple jointed mouths.
Mankind now is their fodder, and they are lords of the land, sea and sky...
But we fought back...and we found their weaknesses....Our means of defence, small to medium calibre weapons, and a solar charged battery cell, that when linked to fiberous lines of copper cable, creates huge electro-magnetic shields; that, when turned on, rise up about us like huge almost invisible domes. They protect us from their hideous advances; but… we’re now caged... like animals in a zoo.

I enter the old fisherman’s cottage through the back door, and walk into the large white walled kitchen. I am met by the warm welcoming odour of freshly baked bread. It almost hides the stale smell of the decaying vegetables. In the background I can hear baby Si’, screaming for attention and for food. Rachael has her back to me, but I can see she is making soup. Her long black hair falls around her shoulders in shiny, spindling ringlets.
‘Our supplies are low.’ she says with her back to me. Her voice sounds cold and as sharp as a razor blade.
‘-I know-‘
‘-an’ the lines need bringing in-
‘-yes, yes ok!-’ I feel tired and put upon.
‘-Jane-‘
‘-Just for Christ sake, shut up!’ I shout savagely; as I leave the kitchen and go through the narrow hall, to the front room, where Si’ is lying on the white rug; his pen surrounding him. It doesn’t take him long, a cuddle and a suckle, settles him quick. I look down and see in his eyes Gaz staring at me. As I sit in the rocker by the window, words start to fall from me like the heavy summer rain.
‘Why… why’d you have to do it? Be the selfless hero… when we need you… when I need you… There’s so much to do… so much to sort out…
‘Si’ looks up and gurgle’s sweetly; his round face and blue eyes shine, his toothless mouth white with milk and spit. I smile down, unaware of the footfall in the hall.
‘Jane.’ It’s Rachael. ‘Alice is upset. Why did you have to say that?
‘-We’re safe here.’ I can hear the lie in my voice, I know its insane to stay, but I just can't let go...
‘-Who says?’ She asks. Her voice sounds clearly hostile; and that hurts me. ‘You know ‘ow we’ve done it in the past; Alice ‘as the dream an’ we move on. That’s what we’ve always done since...’ She doesn’t finish the sentence but the air is heavy. ‘…Gaz would want us to move on. Staying ‘ere is suicide.’
‘-Gaz isn’t here.’
‘-An’ don’t we know it…’ She replies tersely. ‘…They are real and they are coming…’ Her words echo about the large living room, like a dark prophecy. ‘…You might want to stay ‘ere an’ hold on to your memories, your dreams, an’ your youth. But we, the rest of us... need to live.’
I don’t look up; I only hear her feet slowly walk away upon the red flagstone floor.
I hear a clatter of pots from the kitchen, and feel my face blush with guilt and shame. I look to the cot, but Si’ is asleep. So I turn in my chair to look out of the cracked window. The green sea is flat and seems to go on forever. The sky, a stone grey. The fog has lifted. I only wish my mind was as clear.

Night has come. The fire licks orange-yellow flames up the chimney, and leaves the room feeling warm. Si’ has been taken from my lap, and placed in his crib. I look across the room and see the heavy sofa. Oh how I wish he was here, holding me close, telling me what to do.
But he died six weeks ago, while Alice was building sandcastles on the beach…
Sandcastles…
That’s what we are; and that’s what we made for ourselves.
The problem with sandcastles is that the tide turns and washes them away.
We came because our settlement had been hit, and I knew of nowhere else to go. It seemed at the time the safest place to be; the sky open for miles, the rocks stopping the subs, and the ground flat so we would spot any tripod before it spotted us.
It took us weeks to get here, moving on if Alice had any bad dreams, overloaded with what supplies we managed to scrounge.
When we finally arrived, we improvised an EMF shield; that shorted occasionally, but for the last four months we’ve been safe. Life became a routine of hiding in the shadows, laying lines for fish and keeping the shield operational… until a week ago.
I was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, while Gaz stood in the doorway, looking out towards the beach. We had been up for about an hour; I was feeling sleepy warm, ruddy and tender from our love making.
I looked out of the window across the tiny bay to where a wet Alice; her blonde hair dark, tousled and full of salt; had started to put sand into the small round yellow plastic bucket by her knees.
Then the alarm sounded. Instantly, we stared at each other. Nothing was said. Our eyes wide open simply met; while my heart began thumping with a black panic.
Then he ran as fast as he could down the narrow path that led back to shore. It didn’t take him long to reach the beach; or the heavy black junction box that we had improvised as part of the EMF shield extension. He quickly ripped the lid off it; before, as gently as he could, so not to make her panic, call Alice over to him.
It was a sunny day… the sky was unusually blue and clear from the swell of grey cloud that normally came from across the sea.
It seems amazing that I didn’t see the raised antenna, or the tentacles that followed, until it was too late.
I screamed as I saw them snake up the beach. Rachael saw them next. She ran from the lighthouse picking up the rifle that was resting by the kitchen door. I saw her wave frantically, before charging down the narrow path. Her body jarring as she sped. She stopped as she reached the beach and managed to get two shots off, as the tentacles silently sped towards them.
It was enough for Gaz to see what was coming. I saw him click something. The alarm suddenly died, and then, instead of running towards us, with Alice in his arms…he ran the other way…leaving Rachael and Alice to run towards the safety of the newly functioning shield.
It only took a second… hundreds of tendrils wrapped about his body; lifting him up high into the blue sky. And there he hung for a moment, like a twisted puppet, his arms outstretched, screaming; before he was suddenly dragged down at a lightning speed, swallowed by the green swirling sea.
‘Gaz…’ my voice sounds dry and cracked. I close my eyes and shut out the candles, the fire-place and the near silence of the room. But the room isn’t empty any more.
‘Jane.’
The room is a blur; a swirling wash of orange embers, mahogany and candlelight.
‘Jane.’
I wipe my eyes and stare across the room.
‘Jane.’
He sits there sweetly, that smile upon his face; as if he’s never been gone. Doesn’t he know what he’s done to us? Doesn’t he care that we have had to cope without him?
‘Jane, listen.’
Gaz…He sits in front of me, wearing that blood red jumper. I shake my head, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to believe.
‘Jane my darling, you have to leave here. Alice and Rachael are in real danger.’ He speaks, in urgency, yet in a voice that I find hard to grasp. ‘The old ones are coming here. They know you’re here. Jane…please listen to me.’
‘Where have you been?’
‘Jane I know how much this place means to you, but you have to leave.’
Suddenly I’m in the open! There is a screaming whine of an insects wing, followed by the clacking of hideous alien voices , followed by a loud whump; as their heavy feet made of constantly winding tendrils tie themselves about each other, giving strength to the whole form as it staggers upon the land, with a hideous slouching gait , its single yellow eye ablaze with insane victory as it screams in an unearthly triumph; all the while more huge fibrous tentacles are reaching out for me, smothering…smothering my face.

I scream awake. Baby Si is in Rachael’s arms. I feel a little jealous that he is resting in her arms, but I try not to let it show. After all I love her as if she is my own.
‘I’m sorry ‘bout yesterday.’
I find a smile upon my face and hope that it isn’t fake.
‘-It’s ok.’
‘-It’s… just that I miss-‘ I can see her pain and her strength.
‘-I’ts ok. You’re right. It’s not safe here any-more. We’re leaving, get Alice.
With a smile on her face she speedily turns and leaves the front room.

The sky is full of slate black raging clouds that boil and curl over a violent pale green sea. The wind is beginning to rage too. That’s good because it means the insects can’t fly. Also with the electro-magnetic energy the land monsters will be stuck too. That only leaves they from the sea.
Breaking camp is very painful but very necessary. The memories fill, and wash over me... I almost feel haunted, though not by the monsters… For I have lived two lifetimes here. Not bad for a woman in her late fifties...
I look at the lighthouse and I see my father speaking in an age long past, about a time now gone. I see my mother, her dedication to the seventies written on her narrow face, as is her longing not to be any where near here... And finally, I see Gaz...the man who kept me sane and us together… The Father of Alice and Simon, and the Brother of Rachael... and I know that it’s ok to say goodbye.
We get into the screen cracked land-rover. It’s weighed down with supplies and the four of us. I turn the engine over and see that the tank is half full. That’s ok, because I also know that we have a spare tank of fuel in the back… we are ready to go, And not before time.
As we sit in the car, we watch silently, to see huge leathery tendrils come out of the broiling sea, we hear a hissing scream as they wrap themselves about the buildings; and monstrous howls as slowly the buildings are torn to shards of rubble iron and glass; the towering light, broken into bones of iron and lumps of powdered stone. Where are we going? I am not sure, south... I think... and back to the tunnels.
I look back at the ruin of the lighthouse; our home for so short a time is now a broken shell. I look at Alice and she smiles for the first time in an age...and that is nice to see... Yeah… it’s time to move on.