Episode XCVII - Advent Horizon, Part I

Sarah was in love.

It was an accident, really.  She hadn't meant to be.  It wasn't all part of some clever plan to leave the dark shadow that was Ellis' disappearance behind her and get on with her life, quite the opposite, in fact.

It had happened slowly at first.  She had returned to St. Stephen's the next day, just like Jen had suggested and she had explained to the small group of churchgoers there - including scientist Jen and old Rupert and handsome Thomas - all she knew about Ellis' disappearance and the creatures which had appeared in the churchyard the night before.  They had prayed, just as Jen had said they would and though it was all fairly meaningless to Sarah she was touched that they seemed to care so much for her situation.  None of those who were there the night before were judging her and of the new people only one seemed really sceptical.  They obviously trusted their fellow believers.  Besides, she had thought, they believe in a giant sky god ruling over everything, winged monsters must be a pretty small leap from there.

Nothing very much was determined as a result, other than that the situation seemed very serious, a great deal more prayer would be a good idea and that Sarah should stay in touch.  Thomas walked her home that night and, with the dark all around her and the threat of monsters in the air, she was very glad of it.

Their conversation didn't amount to much.  Thomas' stammer seemed to have gotten worse and Sarah wasn't entirely sure what to say.  She'd considered talking about Christianity, but didn't want any of the potential conflict that might erupt.  She found that, apart from finding him attractive, she actually liked Thomas and she liked Jen and she even liked Rupert, despite his moments of irascibility.  She wasn't sure of what her mother would think of such an observation, but she couldn't deny the truth of it.  Whatever they believed, whether they were right or wrong, these were ordinary people and they were being decent to her in a way that many ordinary people would not.

She didn't go back again that week, figuring it was all a waste of time, but the thought of it lingered in the back of her mind and she found that she wanted to see Thomas again.  It niggled at her and a few days later she went  back to St. Stephens, hoping to catch them all there.  The church was closed up with no lights on and Sarah was shocked to realise that she was so disappointed she could almost cry.  She took a note of the service times and went home, watching the skies warily as she did so.

Whilst her fear of the monsters didn't really diminish she had seen no sign of them since her first visit to St. Stephens.  She wondered if they'd been scared off, or if they'd forgotten about her, or just flown further afield.  Despite these thoughts she never felt fully confident that she would not see them again and every time she stepped out the door she felt that they might be watching her.  It sent chills down her spine and made it hard to walk without constantly looking over her shoulder.  The tension was almost unbearable and as the days wore on it only seemed to get worse.

She had considered joining her mother for some early Christmas shopping that Saturday – they liked to get it out of the way fairly quickly – and indeed they had made plans to do so earlier in the week.  She thought it would take her mind of things, get her in the spirit for the festive season and leave all the unpleasantness behind for a while.  When she looked out the window at the dark grey skies, able to hide anything in their leaden billows, her heart sank.  She gave her mother her apologies, claiming that she had a headache and would spend the morning in bed instead.

Her mother worried, of course, and though she kept her thoughts to herself to begin with the questions soon began to come out.  "Did something bad happen to you the other night, darling?"  "Why have you been acting so strange recently."  "Why won't you talk about it?"  Sarah did her best to shrug the questions away, but the truth was she did want to talk about it.  She just didn't feel comfortable confiding in her mother, not about something so irrational as monsters and especially not about her brief involvement with St. Stephens.

And that was what led her back there the next day, just in time for the end of the morning service.  She stood outside hugging herself against the cold of the late November breeze, listening to the last hymn being sung and eyeing the pale blue-grey sky as if it might spontaneously generate monsters.  There were heavy clouds on the horizon and the air was icy enough to suggest snow.  Despite the cold, however, she waited until she was sure the service was over and a sizable number of people had left the church before she ventured to the vestibule and poked her head around the door.

It was Rupert who spotted her first.  He gave her an uncertain smile and then marched over to greet her properly.

"I didn't think we'd see you again," he confessed.

"I just wanted someone to talk to about... you know..."

He nodded.  "I understand completely.  Come on through.  There should still be some tea in the pot."

Rupert helped her get a cuppa and then led her over to a quieter corner of the church were a few chairs were arranged in a circle.

"We keep this area in case anyone wants to come and pray at the end of the service," he explained, "although it serves well enough for just a quiet chat."

Sarah sat down and stared into her teacup, uncertain what to say now that she was here.

"So," Rupert said, trying to clear the air, "you've come here because you don't know anyone else you can talk to about your situation, am I right?"

Sarah nodded without looking up.

"We get that quite a lot here.  Usually it's alcoholics or people struggling with some kind of abuse, but there are plenty of other reasons.  Whether people believe or not, it seems they still like to unburden themselves in a church.  And we listen to them, of course, although I always hope for a chance to tell them that there's something more."

"But that's not why I'm here," Sarah said, looking up, "so please, don't press me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, but we all have to make a choice at some time or another..." he caught the look in Sarah's eyes and stopped.  "Sorry," he added.

"You're right though.  I don't have anyone else to talk to.  I've seen monsters!  Who would believe me?"

"Well, you know we do.  But you're right.  Very few who hadn't seen what we have seen would have any idea.  They would think we'd all gone mad."  He laughed then and added, "for some of us they already do!"

It was then that Thomas came over.

"Oh, S-Sarah!  I w-wasn't expecting t-to s-s-s-see you here."  He flushed as he stammered, like he knew that talking to her made it worse.  It was cute really and Sarah couldn't help but be flattered.

"I just wanted someone to talk to," she replied.

"Well Thomas is here now," Rupert said with a smile, "so you don't need me.  I have some leaflets to start printing anyway."  And with that he got up and left room for Thomas to sit down.

"You l-l-look t-tense," Thomas began, "s-s-stressed."

"I keep thinking those things are going to come back and it terrifies me." Sarah admitted, feeling a familiar burn in her throat as her eyes started to well up.  "And there's no one I can talk to about it.  There's nothing I can do!"

"You're t-talking to me.  Maybe we can w-w-work s-something out?"

"Like what?  I can't keep on like this!"

"Maybe w-we need t-t-to find the monsters?  Maybe they c-can be f-fought?"

"They were made of stone!  What would you do?  Punch them?"  She gave a bitter laugh through her tears.

"Maybe.  If it kept them away f-from y-y-you."

Sarah didn't know how to respond to that.  She might have blushed, were she not still crying.

"This is stupid," she said, "there's nothing that can be done anyway.  I should just leave."

"Then w-w-will you let me w-walk you home?"  He stood and held out his hand.

What else could she do but take it?

Their walk was more pleasant than had been the last one, despite the crisp winter air and even though the morning’s distant clouds had raced in overhead, she felt safer than she had in a long time.  Thomas was more talkative, if no more articulate because of his stammer and they chatted about lots of things.  Sarah even found herself talking about Ellis, about their falling out and how he had just disappeared after that.  How no one had seen him for the last few weeks and how his mother and brother seemed to be acting really oddly.  Thomas was sympathetic and quiet, a perfect listener and so she found herself giving more details than she intended to.  She mentioned what the monsters had told her outside the church, about how she smelled like 'the construct' and that the only person she could thing of right then was Ellis.

"D-do you think they k-kidnapped him?" Thomas asked when she fell silent.

"I don't know.  Maybe.  I'm not sure I want to think about it."

"B-but if they were ch-chasing you because you s-s-smelled like him, then that s-sounds like they were l-l-looking for him as w-well."

Sarah paused in the street.  What Thomas had said made perfect sense and she hadn't even considered it.  If the monsters were after Ellis then he was still alive, but equally, where could he be that in sniffing him out the monsters had come to her.

"Is everything ok-k-kay?"

"I don't understand any of this at all," Sarah confessed.  "It's like my life has sudden become some crazy, badly plotted horror film."

"We're p-praying for y-you." Thomas said softly and from him that suddenly seemed to mean a lot.

"Thank you," she said.

Thomas looked down at his feet and started to reply, "Y-y-y-" but before he could complete the word the air was rent by a sound like an amplified crow’s call and Sarah's blood turned cold.

"They're back!"

Thomas grabbed her hand without hesitation, shouted, “Run!”, and then practically dragged her away from the spot where she had been frozen with fear.

They ran down the hill past rows of cold, empty-looking houses, no cars in their drives.  Everyone was out doing their Sunday shopping - the new worship - so no one would see if the monsters came and killed them in the street.  Sarah held tight onto Thomas’ hand, feeling the strength and warmth in it, needing it just to keep running.  The monster’s call came again and she took a quick glance over her shoulder to see it swooping down out of the leaden clouds, gliding on its loosely feathered wings of stone, its massive beak opening in anticipation.

Then, just as it seemed it would catch up to them and pluck them off the lonely road, Thomas yanked her to the side and they ran into a maze of middle class townhouses, the affordable housing of the eighties.  Another look back showed the monster rising into the sky once more to circle and try again, but Thomas kept weaving, leading them along avenues, crescents, parks and gardens so that the beast could never quite catch up.

They entered a newer part of the estate, the houses changing shape with the times, accommodating different lifestyles and losing conservatories and extensions, the additions of time and affluence.  Children’s toys lay strewn in gardens that were all lawn and concrete, early Christmas lights glittered in one or two windows, but there was still no sign of anyone about.  The monster cawed in frustration behind them as it followed in the air with dogged persistence, but Thomas’ route always kept it at bay.

And then the street, and the houses, ran out.  Tarmac turned to gravel and churned up, frozen mud.  A bulldozer and digger lay at rest beside a mound of earth and beyond them empty fields stretched off into the countryside where there was no shelter and nowhere to hide.

Thomas slid to a halt in the space before the construction vehicles and turned to face their assailant.

“Get behind me!” he said, letting go of Sarah’s hand and pushing her backwards even as the monster swooped down towards them once more.

Sarah thought it was going to glide right into them, attacking straight away, but now that they were stationary it landed a few metres away on its sturdy, lizard-like legs and then began to advance slowly across the earth, its fiery eyes twitching as it watched them.  From somewhere above, snowflakes began to fall.

“You still smell like him,” it said, “like the construct.  Where is he?  How do we get back?”

There was an odd quality to its gravel-like voice, almost wistful, longing.

“How do we return?  We do not like this world!”

It took another few steps forward and Thomas put out his arms to shield Sarah as he stepped backwards.  The ground was slowly turning white around them.

“We want to leave!” the creature cried and lunged forwards.

A long piece of twisted metal piping lay nearby, its end sharp where it had broken off.  Thomas swiftly ducked down and grabbed it, swinging it up before him in a defensive gesture just as the monster’s massive beak was about to reach him.  One quick blow sent the creature reeling, howling in rage.  It’s eyes seemed to burn hotter and it flapped its mighty wings before charging again.

This time Thomas used the creature’s weight against it, pushing Sarah aside as he sidestepped out of its way before jabbing at it with the broken pipe along its flank.  The sharp edge scraped noisily across the monster’s scales, sending up sparks and the beast turned and flapped its wings once more, letting out an awful screech that made Sarah cover her ears.

It prepared to charge once more and Sarah thought, this is it, this is the moment when we both die.

But in the blurry few seconds that followed something else happened.  Sarah found it hard to follow through her tears and from her own stumbling motions as Thomas pushed her backwards once more, but it looked like the creature came straight at him, rising up with its beak open to snap off his head.  Thomas didn’t back off or sidestep this time, however, but advanced, holding the pipe like a spear so that when the creature exposed its vulnerable gullet, descending upon him like the end of the world, he thrust the pipe in as hard as he could, twisting and shouting like some ancient warrior.  Sarah couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

A flood of hot blood poured out the creature’s throat and Thomas leapt back, trying to escape the scalding fluid, then the creature’s body began to disintegrate, turning to softly glowing ashes that cooled in a pile amidst the freshly fallen snow.

Thomas was still trying to wipe off the last of the hot blood as Sarah approached him, though most of it was steaming away into nothing in the cold air, like the snowflakes that melted as they touched it.

“That was… amazing,” she said, unable to hide the awe in her voice.  “You just saved me like… like some kind of super hero.”

Thomas stared at her, his face still flushed from combat.  “I j-just didn’t w-want it t-to hurt y-y-y-“

Her kiss stopped the word from ever being formed.  It was soft, gentle and, for a moment, Thomas leaned into it, but then he seemed to hesitate and then withdraw, leaving Sarah staring.

“T-too soon,” he said before bending down to examine the pile of ashes that were all that remained of the monster.  “It s-sounded l-like the monster thought it w-w-was from another w-w-world,” he said thoughtfully, “and that this c-construct would know h-h-how to get back there.  If that is Ellis, like you s-supposed, then p-p-perhaps that’s w-where he is?”

“You think my ex-boyfriend has gone to another world?” Sarah replied, incredulous, hurting from the cut-short kiss.

“It’s n-no w-weirder than m-m-m-monsters.”

He rummaged around in his jacket pocket for a moment whilst Sarah stared at the softly falling snow and wondered what would happen next.  She knew that she wanted the boy kneeling before her, but she also knew that she wanted to put all of this behind her, to forget the monsters and the madness.  And, despite all that, she still wanted to see Ellis again, to make sure he was alright.  It was too confusing.  She could feel tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

Thomas pulled a little tub out of his pocket, opened it and poured out some clear liquid, wiping the inside with a tissue from another pocket, then he used the tub to scoop up some of the ashes, put the lid back on and then put the tub back in his pocket.  When he looked back up at Sarah she was staring at him.

“I w-wear contacts,” he explained.

“But why did you just take some of those… remains?”

“I f-f-figured w-we could show them t-to Jen.  P-perhaps she and s-some of the others at the University c-could m-make s-s-s-sense of them.”

He stood up, dusted himself off – though he was now more covered in snow than he was in dirt, ash and monster blood – and stepped over beside Sarah.

“I s-still w-want to w-walk you home,” he said, blushing again, “if th-that’s alright.”

Sarah blinked away her tears and tried on a smile for size.  It was a tight fit, but it worked, just about.

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