Carrie messaged me about an hour ago. Sean's got some kind of adapter so I reckon I should be able to charge the phone from the car later. I risked the battery and talked to her for a while. She agrees that Sean's behaving like a dick and that makes me feel a little better. I'm losing my mind stuck here, and I think I'm losing all perspective too. I miss Carrie already, and it's only been a couple of days since I last saw her. It's the distance that makes it feel worse. That and the fact that time's running so slow. We've only been on the road for about six hours, but it feels like weeks since we left home. I don't know how much more of this I can take. It's endless. Sean and Mom were bickering about using the satnav just now, and Mom was saying how we're never going to hear it say 'you have reached your destination' in its annoying, artificial voice when we don't even know where our destination's going to be.
Things have got a little easier since we finally left the city behind, though. We've just passed Maidstone, following the M20 down towards the coast, and though the traffic's still busy we're moving at something resembling a decent speed now. There are plenty of idiots out on the road tonight, though. Sean makes his opinion known with regular blasts of the horn and by shouting abuse at anyone who cuts him up. I have to admit, he has a point. No amount of overtaking and undertaking is going to get anyone anywhere any faster tonight.
I've got this image burned into my mind. It's the alien ship drifting casually across the sky towards London. I mean, I know what Sean said earlier about the Others not being interested in us because we're too small and insignificant, but the fact it was moving in Carrie's direction felt weirdly personal. It was like it was deliberately trying to wind me up, like it was saying 'we're getting closer and closer to her, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop us . . .'
Mom and Sean are at each other in the front again. I know he thinks he's boss, but Sean's really not helping. He's feeling nervous like the rest of us, but while Mom and me know when it's time to shut up and bite our tongues, he does the opposite. He just keeps talking and talking and talking, making less and less sense. Mom had to tell him to shut up a couple of miles back. I've never known her risk speaking to him like that before. He can have a hell of a temper when he's riled, but there was no fight in him just now. He was going on about how he sees things panning out. He reckons this ship is just the first of many. He still thinks it's a scouting mission or something like that. He thinks maybe they're scanning us, and that's why they're going round and around the planet at two hundred and fifty miles high, building up some kind of intelligence on us. He thinks it'll only be a matter of time before there are hundreds more ships in our atmosphere, one for every city at least. He says that's when we'll finally see what they're capable of. Sean keeps talking about lasers and explosions and heat rays and things that he's seen in the movies, and he reckons that once they make their first move, we'll have a chance to attack and hit back. He says aliens or not, they won't have a hope in hell once we start sending nukes in their direction. I saw something about that on TV the other day, though I didn't risk telling Sean. Some nerdy science guy was saying he thought the Others were too high in the atmosphere for the shock wave from a nuclear blast to have any effect. I don't reckon it'll work. If they're as smart as they seem and as aggressive as Sean believes, the Others will be ready for anything we can throw at them.
I've got too much time to think here. Whenever I shut my eyes all I can see is scenes from those crappy films Sean's addicted to. Aliens running around in full battle-gear. Explosions. Deafening noise. Flames. Blood. Death, destruction and devastation. No one left alive . . .
The light's fading, the sun slowly sinking. We've been driving forever but Sean doesn't want to stop. The twins need the toilet and I need a drink but he's not listening. We passed a service station a few miles back, and I told him and Mom told him but he wasn't having any of it. Okay, so there were long snaking lines of cars queued up the motorway and waiting to get into the car park, but what harm would it have done for us to take a break for a little while?
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London Under Attack: Too Young to Be OldScience Fiction
There are things in Harry Wylde's life that are far more important than The Others. Sure, the arrival of aliens is a big deal, but he's too busy with his own life to care. He has parties to go to, friends to see, girls to impress. When Harry's step...