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    Earth Day
    Earth Day
    Earth Day
    Ebook74 pages1 hour

    Earth Day

    By Wayne Smallman

    ()

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    About this ebook

    How might our quarrelsome and wasteful ways be seen through the gaze of more distant, different and dispassionate eyes? And how might a promise once made by the leaders of the world be re-paid having been broken by their successors?

    30 years later, on a night whose dark skies were filled with a magical light show the world over, countless towns and cities, entire transport networks as well as billions of people begin to vanish without a trace. But out in the remote rural areas of the world, life goes on unaffected by the invasion, or the enigmatic "lights" that continue to appear out of nowhere, surveying the mundane routines of the remaining survivors.

    In the aftermath of this unstoppable invasion by an invincible alien force, one survivor wants more than mere survival, Leonora "Lenny" Dixon wants answers. Why are the invaders here, and what do they want of us?

    In search of answers, Lenny and her boyfriend Jay leave the relative safety of Cumbria, a mountainous and rugged region of north-west England, and begin a journey south, through the ruined and abandoned urban sprawl of the great northern city of Manchester, on their way discovering the true and terrifying purpose of the invaders, finally revealing the horrifying truth behind the disappearing industry and civilization of man, and of mankind itself.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWayne Smallman
    Release dateMay 16, 2012
    ISBN9780957320703
    Earth Day
    Author

    Wayne Smallman

    When you're young, you think you know everything and life is indistinguishable from a game. It's only when you get older — when you begin to doubt the authenticity of the event and question the rules — that experience begins to count for something. And to quote the inimitable Forbes Bingley, a recurring character of several novels: "Life makes you stronger, at a price." In a sense, life has been preparation — practice, perhaps — for this wild stab at being an author. After all, how hard can it be, putting one word after another? Of course, like anything else in life, you only get out what you put in. At times, writing is both cathartic and semi autobiographical, where I catch myself looking backwards whimsically, lustily, with regret, a wry smile, a despondent glower or growing doubt. But writing is also a journey, one with no intentional destination, just waypoints I may navigate towards from time to time, at leisure. Though I must admit, it's a journey I would prefer not to make alone.

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      Book preview

      Earth Day - Wayne Smallman

      Earth Day

      Wayne Smallman

      Published by Octane Interactive Limited.

      Smashwords Edition

      www.octane.uk.net

      Copyright © 2011 by Wayne Smallman

      Cover illustration copyright © 2011 by Wayne Smallman

      Cover design copyright © 2011 by Wayne Smallman

      All rights reserved

      www.waynesmallman.co.uk

      This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is entirely coincidental.

      No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

      Wayne Smallman has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

      CHAPTER 1

      Newton-in-Cartmel, Cumbria, England — the future

      As the hoe strikes at the dry soil, strange sharp lines of coloured light quickly shift across the garden, like inverted shadows. Turning and looking up into the blue cloudless sky, Lenny tilts her head back, sheltering her eyes with a dirty hand.

      There above, like shards of broken glass moving across the sky, her eyes barely able to make sense of what she sees. The effect is not at all unpleasant, but the portent of what these lights represent strikes fear into just about anyone who sees them. These vessels, if that’s even the right word, as seen by our eyes, have the appearance of something seen behind an elaborate wind chime made of slender yet thickly cut pieces of coloured glass, distorting whatever objects are on the inside, obscuring a more accurate inspection.

      Many have speculated on what science and technology would be required, but Lenny hardly cares. To her, they’re invaders and that makes them the enemy of Leonora Dixon, standing defiantly in the middle of her allotment, bestriding a row of spring onions, brandishing her hoe like a weapon.

      Lenny! Jay shouts from the back door to their house, furiously waving and beckoning to her, his face racked with fear.

      Why? Lenny laughs with a curiously indifferent and confused look as she strides over a bush of outdoor tomatoes in a plant pot, turning to face Jay.

      They can see we’re here, she explains with the faintest hint of exasperation, having said much the same thing so many times before. They can see our gardens, so they know we’re here, pointing to her lush crop of fruit and vegetables.

      Jay shakes his head, leaning against the door frame, but then the invaders pass over and on, travelling south, towards the cluster of cities of The North.

      And that one fact nags at Lenny; why do the invaders just pass them by? After all, those earlier stories from abroad, and even here in Britain paint a very different picture of events. Yet in Cumbria, just over a year since the invasion, life goes on as if nothing had happened, aside from the absence of certain utilities and amenities, like electricity, running water and the internet.

      But none of those things were a real problem here, not for the villagers, who, through their combined efforts, along with local farmers and a number of businesses, such as builders, timber merchants, carpenters, blacksmiths, plumbers and civil engineers, all pooled their talents and resources, quickly rallying together to run essential services. This effort returned their homes to some semblance of order, albeit life at an even slower pace, a fact that many of the villages often joke about.

      A string of villages, all working in unison, built a small hydroelectric power station along the highest point of the river to produce just enough energy to run certain services, such as a butchers walk-in refrigerator, which is now a communal cold storage, not just for perishable foods, but for vital yet scant medical products they’re able to lay their hands on.

      Lenny is most proud of how everyone has pulled together, tightening already close communities and making neighbours of people who were previously just strangers, commuters who had only tangential contact with those they lived alongside. And, for her part, Lenny helps the less able citizens tend to their gardens, as almost everyone now grows their own food. And since money is pointless now, currency is the ability to trade and the willingness to work hard to pay your way.

      Deauville, Basse-Normandie, France — 31 years earlier

      Amidst a week-long vigil by a whole host of protestors, among them civil liberties groups, as well as the customary presence of the anti-capitalist movement, this year’s G8 summit, here at the prestigious coastal resort of Deauville in the Basse-Normandie region of France, has been cancelled only hours before the event was scheduled to begin. While any specific reasons have yet to be given, it’s believed the President of the United States of America and the Prime Minister of Great Britain were both called into an emergency meeting regarding the elevated threats to national security both nations are presently subject to, ahead of joint military activities in the Middle East, the young reporter explains, almost shouting to be heard over the furore of the massed crowds of thousands of protestors who have descended on this seaside resort town, all cheering and laughing, assured in the belief that they were the reason this year’s G8 summit was so quickly and unceremoniously cancelled.

      Failure is often gradual, and political failure is more often hidden from view, until the gravity of those accumulated deceits becomes

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