THE FEARLESS

INVASION:CHAPTER 3

A split second later, the light went out again.

When it came back on, I saw a woman standing in front of a gap in the hedge where a cow had got through in the spring. It had raced around the garden, churning up the grass with its hooves, and Dad had had to call the farmer to come and get it; he hadn't got round to patching up the hole yet.

The woman was a bit younger than Mum, tall and slender, wearing a grubby-looking army uniform with a pouch belted around her waist. Her dark hair was in a ponytail that had come half-undone, and there was blood all down the side of her face, soaking into the collar of her jacket. In the harsh glow from the outside light, it looked black. She took a few steps towards Dad, who hadn't seen her yet – he was unlocking the garage door, and she was just out of his line of sight – then stopped, looking around her in a dazed sort of way.

'Come away from there,' Mum said in a sharp voice.

'There's someone out there,' I whispered. I let the curtain drop and darted across the room to turn out the light. Then I returned to the window. Mum came to stand beside me.

'Who is that?' I said. I didn't recognize the woman. I'd never seen her before.

Mum didn't answer me.

'Mum. She's hurt – maybe we should go out and—'

'No!' Mum said loudly, and I saw the woman's head twitch as if she'd heard her, although she couldn't have because she was too far from the house.

'No,' Mum said, lowering her voice again. 'We mustn't go out there.' She took in a sudden, hissing breath, pressing her hands into the small of her back.

Dad finally looked around and saw the woman. He opened his mouth, saying something to her. She lunged at him and, before he could even move out of the way, never mind defend himself, she punched him in the face. Even though he was twice her size, he staggered back and collapsed on the gravel in a heap, his eyes rolling up, blood bursting from his nostrils like someone had just turned on a tap. Mum and I both screamed at the same time and the woman's head jerked towards the house again.

Mum pulled me away from the window, crushing me to her and clapping a hand across my mouth before I could scream again. 'Keep quiet,' she whispered fiercely. Her breath was coming in ragged little gasps. My heart was banging and my legs had gone weak. Against my back, I felt the baby kick savagely, as if he too sensed something terrible had just happened.

Mum took her hand away from my mouth.

'Mum, what's happening?' I said in a shaky whisper. 'Is Dad—'

I couldn't say it. I couldn't say dead.

From outside, I heard a piercing whistle.

'Don't move,' Mum whispered back. With her back against the wall, she inched towards the window, peering around the edge of the curtain. I crept to her side, ignoring her hissed 'Cass, I told you not to move!'

Dad was lying on his back, blood still oozing from his nose. The woman put two fingers to her lips and whistled again, then folded her arms, looking around impatiently as if she was waiting for someone. Her movements were sure and strong. I realized she must have just been pretending to be dazed – or else the attack had energized her in some way.

The woman looked at the house. Mum made a sort of squeaking noise and drew back, but I stayed where I was, peeping around the curtain.

There was something wrong with the woman's eyes. They were silvery and dull, and her pupils were enormous.

Suddenly, I remembered the photograph of the man in that newspaper article.

Dad began to move.

It was like he was only half-awake. His feet twitched and his hands pawed at the air. But he was alive. Alive. As his eyelids flickered open, I started to cry, half from fear, half from relief. 'Mum, he's waking up! We have to help him!' I whispered through my sobs. But all she did was stand there, her back to the wall, gasping.