seemed to be sinking, but …
It’s
coming up from below!
Greyface was calling to him, taunting him. The hunter was circling, out of sight, sending shadow birds scurrying from the bushes. Piercing whistles, mocking laughter, mingled with the dull roar of traffic.
Jack panicked and started to run. A hand grabbed him, slapped his face.
The shadows faded, a less alien sun caught his eyes, made him squint as Angela held him, shaking him, her words slowly coming clear.
‘I knew you’d watch over me,’ he gasped with relief.
‘Come on. Jack. Come on. We’re going home. You’re a danger, and not just to others.’ She scanned him, searched his face, amazed. ‘You’re glowing – like fire. We have to get this recorded. Come on, Jack. Come home …’
But the hold of
Glanum
was too strong.
He let Angela take him back through the streets, to the municipal car park, but he insisted she drive him to his parents, to their house above the city. Here, with the sound of running loud in his ears, with the stifling presence of a forest he could not see, with the scent of blood and sweat from two peoplewho were so close he could almost touch them, he stood at the bottom of the front drive and looked down the hill.
As if it were yesterday, he could remember Garth strolling towards him, coat flapping, smoke coiling from the stub of his cigar. He could see the man’s shape against the setting sun on the glimmering roofs of the town, and like the ghosts that haunted him, he felt he could reach out and take Garth’s hand.
You’re the boy who sees other worlds
…
You’re the man who dowses for lost cities
…
‘What happened to you?’ he whispered, and a gentle touch on his shoulder made him turn. Angela put her arm around his shoulders, followed his gaze to the sprawl of Exburgh. ‘What happened to who? Who are you talking about?’
‘Garth.’
‘Oh yes. Of course. You miss him.’
‘I hardly knew him, but yes. I miss him. What’s happening to me? It’s come back, but it’s different. It’s like they’re …’ he reached out, running a hand through the warm air, rubbing the air against his palm with his fingers. ‘It’s like they’re right beside me.’
‘You said the city was rising. Are you still seeing the city?’
‘Yes … but more distantly. Like a photograph projected on a wall – the real and the ghostly mixed together.’
It was like a dark shadow above the churches, the town hall, the multi-storey car parks, the clutter of structure that makes a modern town. If he blinked he saw reality, but if he looked hard enough he could see a hill, groves of trees, the clutter of red-tiled buildings, a shadowy, shimmering illusion of something that might once have been, but which might also be his imagination.
Is
this how it was for John Garth? Is the world he inhabited an overlapping vision of the alien and the real?
He said, ‘But Greenface is behind me, watching over my shoulder. She keeps talking to me, murmuring things, touching me …’
Sensual
…
that touch
… he
couldn’t tell Angela, but the touch of the alien aroused him, as if she had always been intimate with him, and now looked to him for strength, for companionship.
‘Can you understand what she says?’ Angela was examining him closely, disappointed, perhaps because the film of ‘otherness’ was not now present on his skin.
He thought of the woman, let her breathing grow loud, let his mind slip away from Angela.
‘
Time
to come through
…
found gate
…
at last
…
searched so hard
…
look after me
…’
‘Oh Christ!’
Angela grabbed him, turned him sharply to face her, watching his eyes.
‘What is it? What? Come on, Jack. What’s happening?’
‘They’re coming through …’
She practically dragged him to the car, while his parents stood concerned and unhappy. He sat in the passenger seat, strapped by the seat belt, watching as Angela talked briefly with the older couple then returned to the car, reversing
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