Alien Virus

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Book: Alien Virus by Steve Howrie Read Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Howrie
Tags: Scotland, Viruses, Aliens, mind control, salt, orkney, future adventure science, other universes
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there.
    “So after I finish at five, I walk down to
the Minto and there’s the English guy with his mate. Both of them
sitting in a corner, chatting. The one I know gets up as soon as he
sees me and buys me a drink. A pint of eighty shillings I think it
was. Anyway, I find out that the one who came into the shop is
Tony, and the other guy – the one who’s done all the research – is
Frank. No second names, very informal and very friendly. Frank
starts to tell me about his research project, and then suddenly –
right out of the blue – he says, ‘Do you believe in alien life
Gareth?’ I’m like, ‘Whoa – what’s this all about!’ So he
repeated it, and I had to say that I did, but everyone else thinks
I’m daft. And then he adds, ‘Well, the aliens have landed.’ And at
that point he had me – I would have signed on the dotted line there
and then, because I always knew there were aliens on this planet –
only I didn’t know how fucking small they were!”
    Sandi smiled as she listened to Gareth. He
was like a big kid really. That was partly his attraction. Plus the
fact that he was a hunk of a man.
    “So you started to get involved from then
on?”
    “I had to – once they’d told me the
situation.”
    “And you never doubted it?”
    “No. I can’t say I understood everything
they said, but it all made so much sense. And the strange thing
was, the more I stopped eating animal, the more I realized things
for myself.”
    “Such as?” She gently brushed his dark brown
hair out of his eyes and looked at him lovingly.
    “Well, animals – wild animals. Have you
noticed that no matter what we do to try to protect them, they are
still disappearing from this planet – and at an alarming rate. The
animals have all these protection agencies, and funds set up to
preserve them – yet still they are being driven to extinction. The
aliens feed off the animals – they’re parasites. And once the
animals have gone, Man’s next.”
    Sandi didn’t hear the last few words – she
had fallen asleep curled up next to Gareth. And after a few
minutes, his eyes were also shut.
     
    ***

Eleven
     
    Tony stood pouring over a map of Orkney, and
pondered. It was at times like these that Frank Peters was sorely
missed. Frank would be there at Tony’s side, enthusing about the
future, about where they could go and what they could do. There
would never be any question of whether this action was right, or
that decision correct; and no concerns of what if this happened or
that occurred. Not in the beginning any way.
    He turned to the old, grey lady sitting in
an armchair reading a magazine.
    “Audrey – what do you think about going up
to Orkney?”
    She put down her magazine and looked over
the top of her spectacles.
    “You’re not going to ask me what Frank would
have done, are you?” Tony gave her a sort of pinched look. “To be
honest,” she continued, “I know nothing about Orkney – and nor did
Frank. I’m afraid you’re on your own on this one Tony.” There was a
touch of coldness in her voice, as she picked up her magazine – as
if she thought that Tony only missed Frank when he could be of some
use to him.
    “I know it’s hard without Frank. I just want
to do the right thing.”
    “Frank was never concerned about ‘ doing
the right thing ’ – he just did it,” she replied without looking
up from the magazine.
    At least Tony was never in any doubt about
sending Kate and I to reconnoiter the area. It made sense for
several reasons: Kate had been to Orkney as a child, and I was a
journalist and didn’t mind probing for information about anything.
Plus the fact that Tony couldn’t have missed the mutual attraction
we felt for each other.
    After my recent escapade in London, Tony
thought it wise if I leave my car and take his – he would hide my
motor until I got back. For the same reason, he suggested I leave
my mobile with him, He said he had a spare – which I suspected was
Frank Peters’

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