The Trojan Project E-Book

Eileen Thornton

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

A strange glowing light, an ominous green mist, and deadly secrets unearthed – chased by the military, a woman races against time to save her family and expose the truth.

A calm, peaceful night for Sarah Maine and her family turns sinister as swirling tendrils of a mysterious green vapor descend over the valley. Terrified when her husband doesn’t return from work, Sarah desperately begins searching for him in the hills outside London – and instead discovers a lethal conspiracy.

An engaging and fast-paced thriller, Eileen Thornton’s The Trojan Project follows Sarah as she finds herself embroiled in a military pursuit, a chemical weapons coverup, and a frameup that puts her family in mortal danger. As she attempts to separate truth from falsehood, she realizes that no one is quite what they seem – but will she find a way to evade treachery from all sides in time to save her family?

Leseprobe

The Trojan Project

Eileen Thornton

Copyright (C) 2013 Eileen Thornton

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Dawné Dominique

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

For Phil, my husband and best friend,

With much love and gratitude.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank MSP's John Lamont and Euan Robson, and also William Leslie and Malcolm Bogaert, for their help with technical details. Their input during the early stages of development was invaluable. I would also like to thank Brian L. Porter for editing my manuscript, his patience and reassurance throughout the process helped me enormously.

Prologue

“Oh, my God! What on earth…?” Sarah screamed, as a huge ball of pale, baleful light rose from behind the distant hills. Frozen with fear, she could only watch in horror as the light slowly turned a sinister shade of green, while continuing to climb into the night sky. It grew larger and more vivid with every passing second before finally coming to rest, where it hovered, menacingly, high above the hills.

The glare was blinding and Sarah cupped her hands around her eyes to shield them from the brilliant rays beaming down onto the cottages in the valley below. Yet strangely, the farmhouse and fields on the hill where she stood remained in complete darkness. She wondered how such a thing could be possible.

Terrifying screams from the valley below interrupted her thoughts and, turning back to look down the hillside, she saw men and women fleeing from their homes. The people below were her friends. She wanted to go to them, to comfort them, but the light was too intense, making it impossible to see properly.

And then, as rapidly as it had appeared, the light was gone, disappeared completely. It was almost as though an unseen hand had flicked off a switch. The whole episode had lasted little more than a few seconds, yet to Sarah it seemed like an hour.

Trembling with fear, Sarah now thought of her children. They were still sleeping in the farmhouse at the top of the long winding drive. She tried to move, but her legs felt like lead blocks and she slumped to the ground – her heart beating wildly. A horrifying thought occurred to her. A massive explosion might follow such a bright ball of light.

With a superhuman effort, she heaved herself from the ground and began to make her way back to the farmhouse, forcing her stricken legs to move faster. She stumbled in the darkness and crashed to the ground, grazing her arms and legs on the sharp gravel. Scrambling to her feet again, she moved forward, oblivious to the pain or the warm sticky blood oozing from her wounds.

“Come on, Betts! Come on, quickly!” she screamed out to the old sheepdog to follow her. She had to get back to the house – to her children. Their safety was now the only thing on her mind. She must reach them before the explosion: they would be frightened – even worse, they might be killed.

Killed! That one dreadful thought gave her the extra strength she needed. With a sudden burst of energy, she bounded forward. She had to get her two children away from the house at all costs. Sarah's mind raced as she drew nearer to the farmhouse. Where would they go? Perhaps if she took them over the hill, behind the farm, they might be sheltered from the blast. There, they might have a slim chance of survival. But on reaching the door she stopped and turned back to face the valley. Something was missing. What was it?

Looking out into the darkness, she realized the screams in the valley had stopped. Now thinking back, she recalled how even before the light had disappeared, the screaming had ended.

Listening hard, she realized there were no sounds at all, just an all pervading silence that hung like a pall over the valley. She glanced around nervously. Even at this time of night, it was never this quiet. There was always the reassuring hoot of a distant owl or the gentle rustling of nocturnal animals foraging for food in the undergrowth. Where were they tonight?

Tears rolled down Sarah's cheeks, as she stood alone by the farmhouse door. Burying her face in her hands, she desperately wished Pete would come home.

Chapter One

Sarah had worried about her husband all evening. After putting the children to bed, she paced up and down the kitchen floor, growing more concerned with each passing minute.

Glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time, she wondered where he could be. What was keeping him so late? Pete always made a point of being home in time to read a bedtime story to their two young daughters. Four-year-old Josie and little Becky, half her age, looked forward to it and nothing short of an emergency could keep him away.

But this evening Sarah had even more reason for concern. As Pete believed her to be spending the night with her friend in Alnwick after a trip to the theatre, he should have collected the children from Laura, the wife of one of his farmhands, several hours ago.

As it turned out, Josie had awoken that morning with a sore throat. Though a dose of throat syrup seemed to cure it, Sarah cancelled her arrangements for fear of it recurring. But Pete wasn't aware of the change of plan. When she had tried to reach him on his mobile, she couldn't get through.

At first she hadn't been too worried: the Cheviot Hills were probably blocking the signal. Besides, Laura would explain what had happened when he arrived to pick up the children. But Pete had never turned up. Nor had he rung Laura to tell her why he was late.

Sarah telephoned Laura several times during the early evening, desperately hoping she might have news of why Pete had been delayed, but the answer was always the same.

“I'm sorry, Sarah, I haven't heard from Pete. But I promise to call you the moment I hear anything at all.”

Something had happened. Sarah was sure of it. She knew Pete wouldn't simply leave his children with Laura without calling her first. Feeling helpless, she sat by the phone almost willing it to ring – yet it remained silent. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she rang Laura again. Dave, Laura's husband, should be home by now; it was possible he might know Pete's whereabouts. Laura sadly, had no words of comfort, in fact quite the opposite.

“Sarah, now I'm worried. Dave hasn't come home either. I understood he was working around the lower fields today. Could there have been a change of plan?”

Assuring her she didn't know of any changes to her husband's arrangements, Sarah hung up. She decided not to ring again. Laura obviously had problems of her own.

She switched on the television and sat down, only to stand up a few minutes later, the sound and picture nothing more than insignificant backdrops to her sense of worry. She paced the floor again, pausing only for a moment to straighten a picture on the wall. Glancing at the clock, she checked the time against her watch. It was no good, she couldn't simply sit here; she had to do something.

Turning off the television, she looked into the children's bedroom. They were still sleeping soundly. It was likely they wouldn't wake before morning. They always slept right through the night. It would be quite safe to leave them for a few minutes while she walked down the drive to the farm gates. From there she would see the headlights of Pete's truck when he swung into the lane.

Outside, the air felt warm against her face. The long hot summer, reluctant to make way for autumn, was lingering on. Overhead, the night sky was clear and the stars glittered in the heavens like large diamonds. It was a perfect evening. The kind of evening her and Pete enjoyed spending together on the porch.

Tonight though, Sarah was too worried about her husband to notice anything. Pete would never be this late unless one of the animals was in distress. Desperate to find an explanation, she wondered whether that might be the reason why he was late tonight. But then she dismissed it; he would have called Laura to tell her.

Sarah knew Pete had gone to check the sheep on Top Meadow, a beautiful green pasture high up on one of the hills on the far side of the valley. Taking his two working dogs, he had set out early that morning, intending to pick up a couple of farmhands on the way. She tapped her foot nervously on the gravel. They should have been back hours ago. Why wasn't he here?

Standing there by the farm gate in the darkness, she suddenly became aware that the animals were restless. They were stamping their feet and making strange sounds; something was troubling them.

She listened hard. Was it a beast – a fox, perhaps? Only recently a neighboring farm had lost several sheep to a fox. Though she couldn't hear anything, the thought of something out there disturbed her, and despite the warm evening she shivered and pulled her jacket tightly around her. If only Pete were here he would know what to do.

Looking down into the valley, she felt reassured by the warm glow of light coming from the farm cottages. Everything seemed normal down there. Surely if there was something wrong, the farmhands would know about it? Many came from a long line of farming families, and knew instinctively when trouble was lurking.

She looked down at the old collie by her side. “I'm imagining things, Betts,” she murmured.

But when the dog began to growl softly, Sarah's fears returned. Bending down to place a restraining hand on Betts's collar, she was further alarmed to find the hairs on the dog's neck were bristled.

“What is it, old girl? What's out there?”

She strained her eyes against the darkness, but was unable to see anything. For one brief moment she toyed with the idea of going back to the house for Pete's gun. A shot into the air might drive away whatever was worrying the animals. But that was all she could do. She might be a farmer's wife, but she had never been a farmer's daughter. Having been brought up in one of the most exclusive areas in London, she didn't have the stomach to kill anything. She knew even Pete was loath to shoot any animal unless he believed it was absolutely necessary.

She scanned the lane again, desperately trying to pick out the headlights of her husband's truck. But only blackness stretched before her. Surely he wouldn't be much longer?

Feeling very alone, she allowed her mind to drift back to the time before her marriage. Her parents had warned her that by marrying a farmer, she would be left on her own most of the day.

“Farming is a hard life, especially for a girl brought up in the City with all the luxuries it has to offer,” they had told her. “There will always be crops or some sick animal to see to. That's not for you, Sarah. A farmer's wife needs to be born into that kind of life.”

Her father, Sir Charles Hammond, being an eminent government scientist, had been in a position to send his only child to the very best of schools. As she was fluent in three languages, her parents had encouraged her to become a diplomat.

Ronald Woods, her mother's brother, held the post of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Occasionally, while on various assignments around the world, she had accompanied him as his interpreter. But though she enjoyed working with her uncle, she had never considered taking on such a role permanently. Continually flitting from one boring meeting to another didn't appeal to her.

A few years ago her parents, especially her mother, Irene, had been keen for her to marry Rick Armstrong, a young colleague of her father's. His excellent prospects made him a suitable son-in-law.

“He has a brilliant mind,” her father had said on more than one occasion. “Though a little impetuous at times, he'll go a long way. He has a great deal to offer a wife.”

To please them, she had accompanied Rick to several functions. But though she found him witty and charming, she could never envisage spending the rest of her life with him. Then quite out of the blue, while attending a charity dance with Rick, she had met Pete Maine.

Her eyes had been drawn to the tall, young man standing alone in one corner of the ballroom. Constantly straightening his tie and flicking non-existent fluff from his jacket, he looked rather shy and ill at ease, almost as though he would rather be somewhere else. Her eyes had lingered on him for a few minutes, trying to remember whether she might have seen him at another recent gathering. But no, she wouldn't have forgotten such a striking young man.

Later that evening, as she and Rick passed by him, Pete gave her a boyish grin. His brown eyes, almost the colour of his hair, were warm and friendly. Though she smiled back, neither said a word. However, when Rick disappeared to the bar to order drinks, he had sought her out.

While they danced, Pete told her he was a farmer, having inherited Hillsdown Farm in Northumberland from his grandfather. “I don't like the city. I'm only here at my brother's insistence.” He laughed. “He thinks I need a break.”

His enthusiasm for the farm fascinated her. He wasn't just a farmer at all – he was a man of ideals and principles, who felt responsible for the men who worked for him and the animals he reared.

When the dance ended, he began to escort her back to where Rick waited. But on the spur of the moment, he changed direction and led her into the garden. “Sarah, I know that you and I together could make the farm work.”

She had been rather taken aback. How could he make such a judgment, having only just met her? “You don't know anything about me and I know nothing of farming,” she had uttered.

It was true. Until a few moments ago, she had never given a thought to where food came from or how it was produced. As far as she was concerned, it was delivered to the house on a regular basis from Harrods.

But taking her hands in his, Pete had spoken earnestly, assuring her he knew everything he needed to know. “As soon as I saw you, I wanted you to be my wife.”

Strangely enough, she found herself attracted to him and agreed to meet him the following day. After several dates, all within the space of a week, she couldn't imagine life without him and they were married after a whirlwind romance. Looking back now, it seemed like a fairy tale. Things like that didn't happen in the real world. She recalled that her parents had been quite alarmed. But Pete quickly charmed them with his sense of humour and kindness.

Rick's attitude, in total contrast, had been quite different. She knew he loved her; he had never made a secret of it, yet she had never given him any reason to assume she felt the same about him. There had always been something about him…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted, when she believed she saw the lights of a car in the distance and for a few brief moments her spirits lifted. But the light was too small. It was probably someone with a torch checking out the animals in the valley. She sighed, as she bent down and stroked Betts's head. “No, it's not him yet, old girl.”

She turned her thoughts back to Rick. His reaction to her engagement had been alarming. He told her she was foolishly throwing her life away.

“What has he to offer a girl like you?” he had roared. “With me you could have everything. Parties, holidays, clothes – a wonderful life could be yours for the taking. Instead you're marrying some farmer and going to live in the middle of nowhere. Why, for God's sake? I don't understand! Explain it to me.”

Taking her hands in his, he had squeezed them so tightly her fingers turned white. “Don't you see? You'll be tied to the kitchen sink – these hands are made for diamond rings, not farm work.”

Laughing nervously, she had pulled away from him. “It won't be like that at all, Rick. I love Pete and want to be with him.”

“Then so be it!” he yelled, before striding down the hall. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Still gazing down the lane, Sarah rubbed her fingers. Even now, some five years later, she could feel Rick's hands crushing her own.

It was on her wedding day when she had next seen him. Calling at the house, he had grasped her arms and shaken her so violently, she almost called out for her father.

“Why, Sarah?” he asked, harshly. “You'll be an old woman before your time. You're not cut out to be a farmer's wife. You'll miss the bright lights of city life. You were born to be with me. This should be our wedding day.” Then suddenly he let her go. “Mark my words you'll regret it.” And he was gone.

But Rick couldn't have been more wrong; she had never regretted a moment. She loved Pete and enjoyed her life up here in the north of England. The farmhouse was set high up on one of a range of hills that surrounded the lush green valley below. She delighted in the magnificent views from the windows and the fresh, sweet smell of clean air that greeted her every morning. It was a far cry from the noisy, traffic-congested streets of London.

She still saw Rick occasionally when she visited her parents. Then four months ago, quite unexpectedly, Rick had called at the farm. He explained he was in the area on business. She recalled thinking it strange he should have work so far away from London. Had it simply been an excuse to see her?

The last time she saw him was about a month ago, when she and the children were staying in London. He had called to discuss something with her father, but Irene invited him to stay for dinner. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Sarah, he disappeared into Charles's study.

Shortly afterwards, both she and Irene had heard raised voices. Though they couldn't make out what was being said, it was clear that the two men were arguing fiercely. Rick emerged from the study red-faced and very angry, before leaving the house without a word.

Afterwards, Charles made several telephone calls before joining them for dinner. He wouldn't be drawn on Rick's rapid departure, even though her mother mentioned it casually in conversation. Nevertheless, Sarah hadn't failed to notice her father's agitation during the evening.

Sarah's thoughts were interrupted again when Betts's growl grew louder. Still holding the dog's collar, she opened the gate and stepped out into the lane. Betts began to bark loudly and tugged to be free. Feeling even more afraid, she tightened her hold on the dog's collar and started to make her way back to the farmhouse. Then, seeing a glimmer of light in the distance, she hesitated.

Could this be Pete? Betts pulled to be free and she loosened her grip. Watching the dog run down the lane, Sarah almost cried with relief. It must be Pete's truck; it had to be. At last her husband was home. But as Betts returned whimpering, her doubts flooded back.

Looking closer, she saw that the light had changed to a sickly green colour and wasn't in the lane at all. It was rising from beyond the hills and appeared to be growing larger and brighter by the second. She had never seen anything like it before. Slowly it began to climb into the night sky. “Oh, my God! What on earth is that?” she screamed…

* * *

Bewildered, Sarah couldn't recall how long she had stood by the farmhouse door. Since the light had disappeared, a heavy silence had fallen over the valley. It was too quiet, even a slight sound would have helped to reassure her. She was about to enter the house when she saw a movement in the sky.

“Please – not again,” she murmured to herself.

Peering through the darkness, she wondered whether the light was returning, but then she saw a strange cloud – a sort of mist. It was the same bright green colour as the ball of light. A cold shiver ran down her back as the cloud silently unfolded like a thick blanket over the valley. Within a few minutes, none of the cottages could be seen through the dense fog. Yet surprisingly, the sky above the farmhouse and the surrounding fields remained quite clear.

Sarah could take no more: her legs began to give way beneath her and she gripped the doorframe for support. Glancing across the farmyard towards the fields nearest to the house, she could pick out the familiar shapes of the cows. But there was something wrong. What was it?

Then, she realized there was no movement. Though they were all on their feet, not one cow was moving. She swallowed hard. Why the hell weren't they moving?

Breathing deeply to stop herself from fainting, she called Betts and staggered into the farmhouse. Slamming the door shut, she pushed home the bolts. Safely inside the house, she slumped into one of the chairs. Tears rolled down her cheeks. What was going on? Where was Pete? What was the green light in the sky? Then there was that thick cloud – and the animals. What was wrong with the animals? Unanswered questions raced through her mind.

Wiping her eyes, she climbed the stairs and crept into the children's bedroom. Mercifully they were still sleeping, blissfully unaware of what had happened. Noticing Josie's teddy bear had fallen to the floor, she lifted the covers and placed it in the bed next to her daughter. It was Josie's favorite toy. She would be upset if it wasn't in her bed when she awoke.

For one brief moment, she thought of waking the children and going in search of Pete, but then thought better of it. No! That was a stupid idea. It would only alarm them. It would be best to wait until morning.

Besides, Pete could arrive home any minute now. Seeing the strange light in the sky, he would abandon whatever he was doing and go to Laura and Dave's for his children. Dave – was he home yet? Moving over to the window, she stared out across the fields to where she had first seen the glow of light. But the light had gone and there was nothing there now – nothing except the strange cloud still enveloping the valley and the distant hills.

Looking closer, she noticed it had now turned a brighter green. What was the cloud? And where had the light come from? Nothing lay beyond the hills except a reservoir and the dam. Further on, there were only more farms and a couple of small villages and somewhere in between stood an old power station. But nothing went on there anymore. It had been closed down when the new one opened over a year ago. Now the grounds were patrolled by security staff as there was still some equipment awaiting removal. Once that was cleared, the old building would be boarded up and sold off.

Just as she moved away from the window, some lights in the distance caught her eye. Could this be Pete's truck? For a moment, she felt a weight was being lifted from her. But her hopes were dashed when she realized the lights were too small to be car headlights. It was probably still the farmhands using torches, while they checked out the livestock. Nevertheless, she felt a little reassured. With so many people about, it must mean that everyone in the valley was safe.

But the cloud continued to cast a sinister glow over the valley and Sarah swept the curtains tightly together to block it out. A feeling of utter despair fell upon her and she began to tremble as fear welled up inside her stomach. The events of the evening had caught up with her. If only Pete were to come home, everything would be all right again.

Shaking violently, she stumbled across to the small sofa in the corner of the children's bedroom, deciding to spend the night there. The large empty bed she shared with Pete seemed cold and uninviting. She pulled her knees up to her chin, curling herself into a tight ball in a futile effort to shut out her fears.

Pete's disappearance stirred up long forgotten memories of a similar occasion. She was a little girl again, excitedly waiting for her father to return from work. She wanted to show him something she had made at school. But he'd been late, just as Pete was now. Laughing, her mother told her that 'Daddy was busy at work and he would see it the next morning.'

However, during the night, she had woken to hear her mother talking on the telephone. “I'm worried; he's never this late. For goodness sake, do something. I want to know what's happened to my husband.”

Sarah recalled how she had lain in bed trembling with fear as she listened to her mother's voice. Believing something awful had happened to her father, she had curled herself into a tight ball, just as she was doing now.

Of course her father was at breakfast the next morning. Absorbed in his work at the laboratory, he had simply lost all track of time. Sarah had never forgotten it and tonight history seemed to be repeating itself. Josie had been waiting anxiously to show Pete a picture she had drawn with her new crayons and Sarah had told her that, 'Daddy would be home soon.'

Back in London, all those years ago, Sarah's mother had been able to telephone the laboratory to find out what had happened to her husband. If they hadn't found him, she would have called Scotland Yard and insisted the whole of the Metropolitan Police force should begin a search.

Out here it was different. There was no one to call. The nearest police station was some miles away in Wooler, and even then it was only an annex of Sergeant Gilmore's house. With Mrs. Gilmore frowning on anyone who called her husband in the middle of the night for anything less than a murder, Sarah's only real option was to lie awake and listen for Pete's truck turning into the lane. But though she tried hard to stay awake, tiredness soon overcame her.

She fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming Pete was in danger of falling into a deep black hole. Clinging onto the sides, he screamed frantically to her for help as he was sucked downwards.

Still dreaming, Sarah saw herself reaching out for him. But though she hung over the edge of the hole and stretched out her arms, she couldn't quite reach him.

“Please help us!” she cried out to a strangely familiar figure in the shadows. But the figure merely turned away.

Chapter Two

Sarah awoke early; she hadn't slept well. For a moment she wondered why she was squeezed onto the small sofa in the children's bedroom. But as the events of the previous night flooded her memory she sat up quickly, wincing when a sharp pain ran down her cramped legs. Stumbling to her feet, she hurried downstairs looking for a sign that Pete might have come home. But there was nothing: everything appeared as she had left it.

Of course he hadn't been home! He wouldn't have slipped in and out of the house like a shadow without telling her. She swallowed hard. Pete would never have stayed out all night unless something serious had happened. Was he lying hurt somewhere on the hill? She recalled the dream she'd had during the night and her stomach turned over.

Taking a deep breath, she decided that once the children were dressed, she would leave them with Laura and drive up to Top Meadow to search for her husband.

“Where's Daddy?” Josie's voice came from the top of the stairs.

“Wait there for me, darling.” Sarah called out. “I'm coming.”

“He still hasn't seen my picture.” Josie held up her drawing.

“I'm afraid Daddy had to leave early this morning.” Sarah climbed the stairs and hugged her daughter. “He didn't have time to wait for you and Becky to wake up. But he's looking forward to seeing your picture later, when he comes back from the fields.” Despite her fears, Sarah smiled, trying to put on a brave face. “I've got an idea. Once we've all had breakfast, we'll go to see Laura. I'm sure she would love to see your picture. You could take your drawing pad and crayons. She might ask you to draw something for her.”

Downstairs Sarah slowly drew back the curtains. She hadn't dared do it earlier, fearing what she might see outside. But thankfully everything appeared back to normal. The strange green cloud, which had smothered the valley the night before had dispersed and the sun was beginning to climb into the sky. Even the cows in the fields nearest to the farmhouse were tugging at the grass as though nothing had happened. Could she have simply imagined the whole thing?

She was about to move away from the window when she caught sight of the animals in the lower fields near the farm cottages. They all appeared to be lying down. Looking more closely, she saw they were very still. Not one of them was moving. Why was no one seeing to them? Come to think of it, she couldn't see anyone at all. Normally by this time of the morning the farm was buzzing with activity. Perhaps she should call one of the herdsmen and find out what was going on.

Picking up the telephone she dialed a number. Receiving no reply, she tried another, and then another, but again no one answered. By now she was beginning to panic. Someone should have answered the phone. Most of the men had wives at home; where were they? It was only then that she thought about calling Tom.

Tom had joined the farm as a young man when Pete's grandfather had first acquired the land many years ago. Though he was now retired, Pete had allowed him and his wife Martha to stay on in their cottage. But then Pete had done the same for so many of the men who had helped his grandfather build the farm from this fertile land.

“They were all good men, Sarah,” Pete had told her. “Grandfather relied on them in the early years, especially Tom. I know he would have wanted them all to remain in their homes on the farm.”

Sarah's hand hovered over the phone. Should she disturb Tom? After all, he was getting on a bit now. Perhaps after years of getting up early to milk the herd he was at last enjoying the opportunity to lie late in the mornings. But she knew that wasn't the real reason for her hesitation. What really bothered her was how Tom would gloat at her having to call him.

Tom had never approved of Pete marrying a 'townie', always maintaining he should have chosen a woman more used to farming. A strong woman, a woman capable of helping out on the farm whenever necessary, in other words, a woman like Alice; his own daughter.

If only she could have reached one of the other men. Mick, Josh, even old Ned, any one of them would have been more sympathetic. Staring down at the phone, Sarah grabbed the receiver before she changed her mind.

“Hello.” Martha's voice came down the line.

“Hello, it's Sarah here.” There was a hissing sound on the line so she raised her voice. “I was wondering if Tom could come over to milk the herd this morning. I know he's retired and all, but I've tried ringing a few of the hands and I can't get any reply. It's so unusual, I can't understand it.” Not wanting the children to overhear, she lowered her voice. “Pete didn't come back from Top Meadow last night. I'm worried, Martha. Have you any idea who went up there with him? They may know what's happened.”

“No, I'm afraid I don't, Sarah, but I'll ask Tom to come over right away. Have a word with him when he gets there, he might know who went with Pete.” Martha hesitated. “It's strange, but now you come to mention it, I haven't seen anyone about this morning either.” She laughed. “Though I must admit, we overslept a little so we could have missed them.”

Sarah shivered. It was getting worse. Despite Martha's reassuring comments, they wouldn't really have slept late. Old habits died hard. After years of rising with the sun every morning neither of them could stay in bed, even if they wanted to. “The last time I saw the farmhands, was when they all ran from their homes to see the ball of light in the night sky,” she said at last. “By the way, what did you and Tom make of it? I found it very frightening.” As she spoke, the hissing sound on the line grew louder.

“What did you say, Sarah? Sorry but the line's bad.”

“Last night. What did you make of the light in the sky?” Sarah repeated.

“What light?” Martha raised her voice, trying to make herself heard. “Tom and I were in Wooler until very late last night. Everything seemed quiet enough when we got home.”

“Never mind, Martha,” Sarah yelled into the phone. “I'll speak to you later, please ask Tom to come as quickly as he can.”

Once Sarah had hung up, she washed and dressed the children. She was strapping Becky into the child's seat in the car, when she saw Tom herding some cows towards the milking shed.

“Morning, Sarah. Lovely morning.” He glanced fleetingly at the sky. “Quiet though. Not much happening. I haven't seen a soul this morning – must all be too busy.” He jerked his head towards the herd. “I'll get this lot sorted and then I'll go down for the others in the lower fields.” He paused. “Mind you, I'd have thought you could do this for yourself by now, lass. Good thing I'm still around. Now, my Alice could have milked this lot with her eyes shut.”

“Good for her,” muttered Sarah. She was annoyed at the way Tom spoke to her. She had put up with it these past five years, but today she was in no mood for his stupid remarks. Lifting Josie into the car, she told her to wait with Becky. “I'll only be a minute, sweetheart. I'm going to have a quick word with Tom.”

Moving across to Tom, she took his arm and steered him a little way from the car. “I'm sick and tired of your ridiculous comments. For God's sake man, didn't Martha tell you why I asked you to come up here? Pete didn't come back last night. He believed I was in Alnwick and that the children were waiting for him at Laura's, yet he didn't turn up to collect them, nor did he call her to explain why. Now, you and I both know he would never simply go off and leave the children waiting. Do you understand what I'm saying?” She paused for breath. “Are you simply being more stupid today or still trying to score points? If you know who went up to Top Meadow with Pete, then tell me.”

Tom rubbed his chin. He was unused to being spoken to like that, especially by some chit of a girl. “I don't know for certain, I didn't see them go off, but I reckon it would be Josh and Ned. They're the two he normally takes up there.”

He grinned. “Fancy you not knowing that, you being the farmer's wife and all. I'd have thought Pete would have discussed it with you the night before he went up there.”

But Sarah was unimpressed at his sarcasm. “Tom, don't you ever give up?” she retorted. “Yes, I am the farmer's wife. Not your daughter Alice as you'd hoped, but me, Sarah, 'a townie'.” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “I had thought you'd be used to it by now. But whether you like it or not, I'm here to stay. I have enough to worry about this morning without you twittering on about how your Alice could run the farm with both arms tied behind her back.”

“I…” Tom began.

But Sarah hadn't done with him yet. Five years she had listened to his spiteful remarks, at last she was going to have her say. “Shut up! I haven't finished. It may come as a surprise to you, Tom Marsh, but during the long evenings in the farmhouse, the farmer and his wife have far more pleasurable things to do than discuss whom he may or may not take up to Top Meadow!”

Tom blushed. He was surprised at her outburst. “I'm sorry. I don't really mean anything; I'd always hoped that…”

“Yes, I know exactly what you hoped,” she interrupted. “Over the last five years you've made it perfectly clear that you wanted Alice to be the farmer's wife. But Pete chose me, not Alice.” She sighed. This wasn't the time for arguments, but she was so worried about what had happened to Pete that she needed to lash out at someone. Still, she hadn't meant to sound so harsh and besides, she quite liked Alice. “Your daughter married a good man. Luke loves her and will do anything for her. They're expecting a baby soon aren't they?” Sarah hesitated, “Your first grandchild.”

“Yes,” whispered Tom, tears forming in his eyes. “The baby's due next week.” He looked away. Sarah was right: Alice had found herself a good man in Luke.

When Pete had chosen Sarah, it should have been an end to the matter. But instead he had tried to make her feel out of place from the first moment she set foot on the farm. What had he hoped to achieve? Had he really believed that Sarah would move out to make way for his daughter Alice?

He had been a fool to even think it. It was obvious to everyone that Pete and Sarah were besotted with each other. And Sarah was right, Pete would never leave his children and go off somewhere without a word to anyone. Even he knew how Pete doted on his kids.

Another thought suddenly struck him. Sarah couldn't have told her husband of his bitterness towards her. If she had, there was no doubt Pete would have spoken to him. Perhaps he and Martha would have been asked to leave the farm. Where would they have gone? How would they have lived?

Reaching out, he touched her arm. “It won't happen again,” he muttered gruffly.

She nodded. “Thank you, Tom. We won't mention it again.” It wasn't much of an apology, but she guessed how much it had cost him. Tom was not the sort to use the word, 'sorry'. “Now I must go and find Pete.”

“I'm sure there's no need to worry, Sarah. It's probably taken them longer than expected to round up the sheep. Up there on Top Meadow there're no fences to keep them in, so the stupid animals roam everywhere. Even with the dogs, they're difficult to round up. My guess is the men spent the night in the old shepherd's hut to save going all the way up again today. There's always some tinned food up there, soup and the like. And as for not ringing anyone, perhaps Pete couldn't get a signal up there in the hills.” He shrugged. “He probably realized Laura wouldn't mind looking after the children 'til morning.”

“I expect you're right, but I'd still like to see for myself.” Despite Tom's words of comfort, Sarah was unconvinced. Pete would never have stayed away all night, without calling Laura first. He would have made darned sure he found a spot where the signal was good.

“I'm going to drop Josie and Becky off at Laura's, then I'll drive up to Top Meadow. Would you keep an eye on things here? I know I couldn't leave the herd in better hands. I shouldn't be too long. I'll take Betts with me. If the men are up there she'll find them.” Then she had another thought. “How did you find the herd this morning?”

“These here are from the fields around the farm, they were a bit slow to move at first, but they seem alright now. I'll go and get the others shortly. Why do you ask?”

“When I looked out of the window, the animals in the lower fields appeared to be lying down. If you think they need the vet Tom, go ahead and call him. Pete's very proud of his stock, he wouldn't want them to get sick.” Her smile was tense. “But I know we can rely on your judgment.”

Driving down the lane, Sarah glanced at the children through the rear view mirror. She was relieved they hadn't been affected by her argument with Tom. They weren't used to her losing her temper. Becky, however, was happily peering out of the window, while Josie seemed to be drawing another picture. Sarah smiled to herself. No doubt this one was a present for Laura.

Rounding a bend in the highway, she pulled up sharply when she saw something lying in the road up ahead. At first sight, it seemed like a large bundle of partly burned rags. But no! Looking closer, she was able to make out the form of a man.

Thinking he had been in an accident, she turned off the engine and jumped out of the car. Now, with the engine silenced, she could hear him crying out in pain. “Wait with Becky,” Sarah called out to Josie, as she began to run towards the man. “Stay in the car!”

“I'll help you,” she called out, as she came closer to the figure in the road. “I'll take you to a doctor.”

At the sound of her voice, the man made an effort to raise his head. Until he heard her speak, he hadn't realized anyone was there. At last someone had come. He had no idea how long he had lain there. But he mustn't let her touch him. By God! She mustn't touch a single part of him.

“No! Go back… go back.” His voice was slurred. Sarah could hardly make out what he was saying.

“Don't… come… near… me.” He spoke slowly, finding it difficult make his mouth move properly.

“No!” she shrieked, as he turned towards her. His face and hands were so horribly burned – yet at the same time they were shining. No, shining wasn't the right word, they were glowing. Even in the bright sunlight, there was a positive glow radiating from them.

Repelled by his terrible disfigurement, Sarah took a step backwards. “My God! What happened here?” She peered down the lane, expecting to see his vehicle. Had there been an accident? Was his car burnt out? But the road ahead was clear. “What happened to you?” she repeated.

Recognizing her voice, the figure strained to lift his head higher. “Sarah! Sarah!”

Taking a closer look, she caught her breath. Though barely recognizable through the charred flesh, she was able to make out the features of Dave. This was Laura's husband.

“No! No! It can't be!” she cried. “Have you been in a fire?” Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out her mobile and tried to press 999. “I'll call an ambulance.”

As she waited for a response, a thought struck her. “Was Pete with you, Dave? Did you see him?” Now hysterical, she fired questions at him. “Where is he? Tell me! Where's Pete?” Inching forward, she noticed Dave's clothes weren't only burnt and ragged there was something else. They were wet – they looked sticky.

“No! No! Stay… away!” Though faint and slurred, his speech was desperate. “For God's sake, Sarah, don't… touch me. Back there a bird touched me and… Get away… quickly!”

She could hardly understand him, but the urgency of his tone caused her to stop in her tracks. At the same time she also noticed something running down his face and hands. Sweat perhaps?

There was still no answer from the emergency services and she shook the phone violently. “What's the matter with this damn thing?” She stabbed her fingers on the buttons again. This time there was a hissing sound; similar to the one she had heard on the telephone in the farmhouse. But after a few seconds the line went dead.

“What's happening? Why can't I get through to anyone?” Feeling helpless, Sarah looked down the lane. Why wasn't there anyone around? Where was everybody? Normally this lane was buzzing with farmhands moving livestock from one field to another.

“Go… back.” Dave struggled to form the words.

“But I must get you to a doctor.” Sarah's voice trembled as she fought back the tears. “And then I have to find Pete. He didn't come back from Top Meadow. I was on my way up there when…” She looked up at the hills ahead. “I was going to take the children to Laura's before going to find him.”

“No!” Dave's voice was becoming more slurred. “Laura's… dead. Pete's… dead.” He croaked.

“They can't be!” she screamed out at him. “What're you talking about? I don't believe you. Pete isn't dead. He can't be dead. Not dead.” Sobbing hysterically, she repeated the words over and over. “Not dead! Not dead!”

“I'm so sorry, Sarah.” Dave's voice was but a whisper.

“No! You're mistaken, Dave. My lovely Pete isn't dead. He's up there, on Top Meadow. He's checking the sheep. I'll find him. He's up there!”

Pointing towards the hills, she screamed out Pete's name. “Pete! Pete! Answer me!”

But there was no answer. There was no sound at all, except for the eerie echoes of her voice, as Pete's name rang around the valley.

“No, you… must… go…” Dave was finding it difficult to form the words. His mouth would no longer move properly; he couldn't hold on much longer.

Sarah's head was reeling. Her legs felt like they were about to give way beneath her. She took a few deep breaths, hoping the sudden gulp of fresh air in her lungs would help her recover. But was the air fresh? Perhaps it was contaminated with whatever had caused Dave's demise.

Slowly, she looked around, not really knowing what she expected to see. What did contaminated air look like? Well, she had been standing here for several minutes and she was still alive. Or was she? Of course she was! She was still thinking, breathing. Even Dave was still alive – only just, but he was still alive. Whatever it was that had inflicted this terrible thing upon him wasn't in the air – well, not anymore.

“At least let me help you back to the farm,” she said, turning back to Dave. “Tom's there; he'll call the doctor. Then I'll come back for Pete.”

Moving closer, she realized the liquid moving down his face was too thick to be sweat. It was more like treacle. What was it? She watched as the thick substance continued on its course and hung threadlike from his chin before finally dropping onto the road. The same thing was happening to his hands.

“Oh, my God!” she yelled, as she realized what was happening.

She quickly turned her head away. It was all too horrible. The treacle like substance was Dave's flesh! His flesh was melting! Surely that wasn't possible. Yet it was happening right in front of her. Already she could make out his white bones, as they pushed their way through what was once his skin. Sarah felt a sickness rising in her throat.

Never had she seen anything so gruesome, so horrific. Dave's flesh was melting and forming pools of thick slime in the road. She wanted to run back to the car and drive away. It would be so easy – no one would blame her. But she couldn't simply go off and leave him. That wasn't her way. Dave was Pete's friend and Laura's husband. No! It was impossible she would turn and walk away. Nevertheless, she placed her hand over her mouth as she turned back to face him.

His flesh began to melt faster by the second. She could see his white skull peeping through his forehead. How could Dave still be alive when his flesh was dripping from him? Oh my God! What pain was he bearing to stay alert and speak to her?

Desperately trying not to show her revulsion, she kept her voice low. “Dave, for God's sake, please tell me what I can do to help you.”

“There's nothing… you can do…” Dave's voice grew fainter. “Take the children away… Pete is gone. I know; I went to Top Meadow with him. Ned… was… sick… I took… his place.” He pointed towards the car. “Pete would want you to save… his children. We heard the sound… saw the light – the mist… we should have… Tell them, Sarah… tell them all…” he broke off.

“What sound? What sound?” Sarah screamed out. Again her voice echoed around the valley. “And what about all the others down there in the valley? Shouldn't I warn them? They have children…”

Tears streamed down her face. This wasn't real. It couldn't be happening to her. Dave lying here… He said Pete was dead… But no, it wasn't possible.

“It's too late… all dead. Go before it's…” Dave could say no more. At last he slipped away. Mercifully for him it was over. He had fought the agonizing pain to stay alive long enough to tell someone of the horror in the valley; to warn them against touching anything – now that was done, he could let go.

Covering her face with her hands, Sarah could stay on her feet no more and she sank into a crumpled heap on the road. What should she do? She wanted to find Pete, but Dave said he was dead. Peeping through her fingers, she looked again at the remains of Dave's body.

Even now his flesh continued to melt. Soon there would be nothing to identify him. Only his bones would be left lying in a pool of slime that was once the flesh of a vibrant young man. Or would his bones melt too? What could have caused anything so horrifying? In a state of shock, she was unable to move. Still feeling sick, she covered her eyes in a futile effort to block out the ugliness of the scene.

After a few minutes, she heard the sound of a bird fluttering above. Come to think of it, it was the first bird she had seen or heard all morning. Peering through her fingers, she saw a crow land on Dave's head. It began to pull at a fragment of melted flesh still attached to his skull.

Revolted, she heaved herself to her feet and ran across to the ditch by the side of the road. Unable to hold back any longer, she was violently sick. She couldn't recall ever feeling so ill. Her head still spinning, she clung desperately to the trunk of a tree to stop herself from falling over. Was Pete really lying dead somewhere up there on Top Meadow? Had his flesh melted away as Dave's had done? She didn't want to believe it.

“No!” she yelled. But there was no one to hear her.

Her mind raced. Dave had been with Pete at Top Meadow, so how had he managed to get this far and why wasn't Pete with him? Pete would have tried to reach the children. Why was Dave alone? Though she knew he was dead and could tell her no more, she still looked towards his body for answers.

The bird was still tugging mindlessly at the flesh on Dave's skull. But then, it squawked and fell onto the road, writhing in agony. A few minutes later, it too lay dead; its feathers growing wet as the skin beneath began to melt.

That could have been her. She held her stomach, as the thought brought back the nausea. If Dave hadn't stopped her from touching him, she would be lying there alongside him, just like the poor bird. Turning back to the ditch, she sank down in the grass and retched over and over again, even though there was nothing left in her stomach.  

“Mummy! Mummy!”

Sarah sharply swung her head and looked towards where she had left the car. In her terror, she had forgotten about the children. But now Josie had stepped down onto the road.

Clutching her picture, the child was walking towards Dave's remains. Dutifully, Betts was by her side. “Would you like to see my pictures?”

Sarah was thankful she had parked some distance from Dave's body. At least the children couldn't possibly have seen what she herself had witnessed.

Scrambling to her feet, Sarah wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and ran towards her daughter. Scooping Josie up into her arms, she hurried back to the car, yelling out for Betts to follow. Not even a dog deserved to die like that.

“No, darling,” she said, forcing her taut lips into a smile. “The man is too tired to look at your pictures today. We'll come back and show him another time.” Still trembling, Sarah tried to speak calmly, not wanting her children upset. She helped her daughter back into the car and urged Betts to follow. “Wait there with Becky and Betts. I'll only be a moment.”

Reaching into the glove compartment, she pulled out the binoculars and looked down the lane. Was Pete lying down there? But she could see nothing. The lane looked totally deserted. Sweeping the glasses across the fields, she saw the cows lying in the grass. They were motionless; exactly as they had been when she saw them from the window. Focusing the glasses, she realized what she was seeing were skeletons – surrounded by a thick slime. Her stomach turned over, as she pulled the binoculars away from her eyes.

She now knew she was in the middle of a nightmare. In a little while maybe she would awaken to find it had all been a horrible dream. She pinched herself so hard she squealed. This wasn't a dream at all, this was really happening.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the binoculars back towards the animals and saw a strange glow coming from the slime. The same glow that had lingered around Dave's face and hands. It was only then she noticed the grass in the fields had turned brown, almost as though a fire had swept through the whole area. Even the trees were bare; the empty, scorched branches looked like skeletal fingers – reminding her of Dave's body.

Quickly turning away, she swung the binoculars back and forth until the farm cottages came into view. At first she could only see the buildings, but looking closer she was able to make out some shapes lying on the ground. What were they?

She gasped. My God, they were people, or they had been. But like the animals, their flesh had melted. It was as Dave had said. Lowering the glasses, she closed her eyes. Was Pete one of them? Had he met the same fate while trying to help his farmhands?

Slowly lifting the glasses to her eyes again, she continued to scan the area around the cottages. She could see a glow coming from the slime. Was this the glow she had seen last night? Back then she had believed it to be the farmhands using torches to check the animals. But now she wondered about that. Was it possible she had actually seen those poor people glowing in the dark? She swept the binoculars around the bodies, searching for Pete. Yet how would she know it was him?

On the other hand, she must remain positive. Hopefully he was still alive up there in the hills. She owed it to him to find out. She turned the glasses towards Top Meadow, but couldn't see anything moving. It was too far away and the binoculars weren't powerful enough.

“Pete! Pete!” She screamed. Lowering the binoculars she listened – desperately hoping to hear his voice calling to her, but only echoes rang out around the valley.

Running forward a few steps, she cried out again. “Pete! Pete! If you can hear me, for God's sake answer, say something.”

“God in heaven, if you can hear me,” Sarah murmured, sinking to her knees, and raising her eyes to the sky. “Please don't let Pete be dead.”

Feeling sick again, she struggled to her feet and placing her hand over her mouth, she looked towards the ditch. But thinking of her children waiting in the car, she stumbled back to them.

Glancing once more at Dave's body lying in the road, she shuddered. Something was running from his nose and mouth. She gasped, realizing it could only be his brain. Yet, for some reason, his eyes, wide open and staring, were still whole and in their sockets. Her eyes fell on the bird lying alongside Dave's head. Once it had been a creature soaring high above the treetops, now it too lay dead, a mere skeleton.

She tried to start the car, but her hands trembled and the key slipped through her fingers, onto the floor. Finally, after several attempts, it found its mark and the engine sprang to life. After a final glance at Dave, she headed back to the farm.

She brought the car to a screeching halt in the farmyard and screamed out for Tom. “Where are you?” She jumped from the car. “Tom, for God's sake, where are you?”

“Stay in the car with Betts,” she told the children. She slammed the door shut and ran towards the milking shed.

“What is it?” Looking concerned, Tom ran out to meet her. “Have you had an accident? Are the girls alright?”

“The people in the valley, they're all dead!” Sarah paced back and forth, wringing her hands as she spoke. “Oh, my God Tom, they're all dead!” She stopped walking and faced him. “Do you hear what I'm saying? Every last one of them – they're dead!”

She was crying so much, Tom could hardly make out what she was saying. He grabbed her arms and shook her hard.

“Calm down. Sarah! I don't understand you. Who's dead?”

“How can I calm down?” She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tight. “Everything – everybody, they're all dead! He told me every damn thing is dead! The people, the cattle, the sheep… and…” She paused and closed her eyes. “And Pete; my lovely Pete is dead.”

“Who told you?” Tom shook her again. He needed to get some sense out of her. “For goodness sake, Sarah calm down and tell me – who told you?”

Still sobbing hysterically, she rambled on.