Meteorite Strike (8 page)

Or the lens of a pair of binoculars.

The man who had watched every move of their fight now tracked the truck as it sped away in the direction of the smoke column.

His hand reached for a walkie-talkie.

“Group Leader, this is Scout 3. Targets are mobile, heading south-east. Over.”

The handset crackled back after a few seconds' delay.

“Good work. Intercept at the refinery. Over.”

10

When they got within a couple of kilometres of the refinery, they saw fires burning out of control in at least two places, sending huge vines of black smoke trailing across the desert. The site was ablaze.

“A single spark can turn one of those oil storage tanks into an inferno,” Daniel explained as they drew closer in the truck. They passed a towering billboard by the side of the road written half in English and half in Chinese. The title read
McKeever–Sikong
Oil Refinery: the future of power, today! Beneath the words, a Chinese and an Australian worker shook hands.

“But where are the firemen?” asked Robert, talking for the first time since the incident in the desert. “Why isn't anyone trying to put it out?”

“I don't think the rescue services are anywhere near here, Bobbie,” Daniel replied.

“And why exactly are we driving straight towards a fire?” Sarah asked.

Daniel tapped the fuel gauge of the truck. The needle pointed towards empty. “We won't get further than another twenty kilometres if we don't find some petrol. There must be a filling station for the tankers somewhere here. Hopefully not too close to those flames.”

The iron gates to the refinery complex stood open. A guard's hut by the gate appeared deserted, but as they passed Sarah saw a man in a uniform slumped in a chair, another victim of the virus. Robert made a noise when he saw it, but Daniel shook his head.

“There's nothing we can do for him, Bobbie.”

Ahead, the fire was raging, a monstrous, orange mass tearing through the oil tanks and the nearby buildings. The oil, stored there for processing, had ignited and was now feeding the fire without end. They stared at the terrifying sight for a moment through the dusty windscreen of the truck. The fire roared like a wild beast set free, making the windows vibrate.

“Have you ever seen anything like this before, Daniel?” Robert asked, straining to get a better view over the dashboard.

“Once,” he replied softly. “Ten years ago in Iraq at an oil drilling platform. The only way they could stop the fire was to seal up the top with explosives. It took two days and four attempts before they managed to do it. We don't want to get too close to it, that's for sure.”

Sarah pointed over to the left of the complex. There was a single storey building and a row of what looked like petrol pumps.

“Is that what we need?” she asked.

“Well, done, Sarah,” Daniel said, putting his foot on the gas and driving the truck forward.

They followed a wide road past abandoned trucks and machinery, pulling up next to one of the petrol pumps. Daniel looked over at the open doorway of the building nearby.

“I'm going to fill up,” he said. “Why don't you two check out the station? There might be stuff we need. See if you can find a petrol can we can fill.”

Sarah looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He nodded and pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Trust me,” he said, putting the keys in her hand. “Just don't stray too far. That fire can spread fast. We might need to get out of here in a hurry.”

They jumped out and Daniel set to work with the pump. Sarah stuffed the heavy keys in her jeans and led Robert over to the building. The very air near the fire seemed hotter and she was aware of it growling in the distance.

Robert took her hand. “It's scary.”

She gave his fingers a squeeze and smiled at him, trying to look reassuring. “We'll be quick.”

The door to the building stood ajar and Sarah pushed it open cautiously with her free hand.

“Hello?” she called. “Anybody home?”

There was no response. She led Robert inside.

It was a storeroom of some kind. Boxes of crisps, chocolate bars and other snacks lined the walls, probably for the drivers who transported the processed oil from the refinery around the country. Robert's eyes widened as he saw a box filled with his favourite bar.

“Cool!” he said, grabbing the whole thing off the shelf, almost spilling the contents in the process.

“Great,” said Sarah. “We get to live off junk food for the next week.”

“So don't have any,” Robert replied, his mouth already half full with a bar. He picked up another and tossed it to his sister.

Shaking her head, Sarah opened the wrapper, finding herself suddenly starving. In the earlier excitement they'd completely forgotten breakfast. The chocolate inside was soft, almost melted in the heat, but it tasted better than any she'd ever had before. In a few bites it was gone.

“Another?” asked Robert, waving a second bar temptingly.

Mum wouldn't have approved, Sarah knew, but these were special circumstances. She nodded and they each started on a new bar, grinning at one another stupidly.

To the rear of the building something clattered, making them both start.

Sarah put her chocolate down on the nearest shelf and motioned for Robert to stay where he was. Walking quickly and quietly, she made her way past shelves and cardboard boxes, noticing a door in the far wall for the first time.

“Hello?” she called out. Her voice sounded small in the silence of the room. “Is someone there?”

Sarah reached out and tried the handle of the door, which turned stiffly.

The room beyond was small and dark, the only light provided by a window set high up in the wall. In the middle of the room, an Asian woman was slumped over a desk, black hair spilling over a pile of paperwork. She clutched a ballpoint pen between her fingers as if she'd passed out in the middle of writing something. The scene gave Sarah a chill.

Something moved by the woman's feet and Sarah almost cried out. A ginger cat jumped forward and slid past her out of the door at full pelt.

“Just a cat, Robert!” Sarah called with relief as she backed out of the room. “Let's try to save it.”

It was then that she experienced that strange feeling again: the one she'd felt on the front porch of the Barkers' house. Like a kind of warning light going off in her brain. Or a premonition of something bad.

Robert.

He wasn't standing where she'd left him. Her eyes darted to the door. A huge, white figure was dragging her brother away, its massive hand clamped over his mouth to stop him from crying out.

“Robert!” she cried out. The head of the thing turned sharply in her direction. Its face was an oval-shaped mirror in which she saw a distorted reflection of the storeroom and herself, small and stretched, standing in the doorway. For a moment all she could think was that an alien was taking her brother. A mirror-faced alien from the meteorite.

She followed without a second thought as they disappeared through the doorway.

Outside she saw Daniel by the truck, his arms held by two more of the aliens, which she now realized had to be men in suits, much like the ones she'd seen astronauts wear. The mirrored visors of their helmets made them look inhuman.

“Sarah!” Daniel yelled when he saw her. He struggled hard against his attackers. “Let me go!”

A third one stepped towards Daniel as he threatened to break their grip. There was something that looked like a can of deodorant in the figure's glove. The man sprayed the contents in Daniel's face and he immediately slumped back into the arms of his attackers, unconscious.

Sarah looked to her left and saw Robert being sprayed by another suit as he kicked against his own attacker. Within seconds he was lying still as well.

Fear took hold and she began to back away, feeling suddenly powerless against this new threat. After everything they had been through. What more could happen? The two suits holding Robert looked round at her.

She was next.

Sarah backed into something. Looking round, she found herself staring right into one of the mirror-masks, blocking her escape. In the helmet reflection, her eyes looked wide and fearful. She saw one of the cans raised, ready to spray in her face.

Sarah ducked forward and rolled between the legs of her attacker. The suited figure turned awkwardly and made a grab for her, but she was already running. Ahead, a wall of fire blazed. After a few metres she slowed to a halt.
Robert
, she thought.
Where am I going?

Sarah turned slowly to see the three suited men approaching. One held what looked like a rifle in his arms. The suit raised the gun and took aim.

“No,” whispered Sarah as the weapon was fired.

She staggered back as something hit her in the arm. Looking down, she saw a five-centimetre-long dart sticking into her flesh. She reached to pull it out as her knees buckled under her.

Then there was only blackness…

11

Sarah lay very still under cool, soft sheets. She stared at the white tiled ceiling for what seemed like a long time before trying to move. Her head ached and she wasn't sure how long she'd slept. It could have been less than an hour or a whole day.

Very slowly, she looked right and then left, taking in her new surroundings.

The room was a perfect square and completely empty apart from the bed in which she lay. Directly opposite the foot of the bed was a long mirror set into the wall. Sarah's own image stared back. The reflection stimulated her last memory before she had passed out and she sat bolt upright. A jolt of pain shot through her skull and she raised a hand to her forehead reflexively.

“Headache?”

Sarah jumped a little at the unexpected sound of a woman's voice. It seemed to come from the mirror, but when she looked up she saw only her reflection. She was wearing a white smock, the kind Mum had worn in hospital. Sarah fingered the material nervously, bad memories coming to mind.

“Your clothes were filthy,” the voice from the mirror explained. “They're being washed. Does your head hurt?”

“Yes,” replied Sarah. She looked at the mirror and swung her legs out of bed. The tiles of the floor felt cool after the heat of the desert.

“Take this.”

A panel opened in the wall to the right of the mirror. A tray slid out upon which a single glass of water and a small dish stood. Walking closer, Sarah saw that two pills lay on the dish. She poked them with her finger suspiciously.

“They're just aspirin,” the woman reassured. Her tone was calm and soothing.

Her head was aching so badly, Sarah decided she'd just have to take the woman's word on that. She popped one pill after the other in her mouth, swallowing each with a gulp of deliciously cool water. She finished the rest of the glass and set it down on the tray.

“I bet you're starting to feel better already,” the woman suggested.

Sure enough, Sarah could already feel the pain in her head subsiding. She peered at the glass, trying to see if she could make out anything behind it. She'd seen two-way mirrors in police dramas on TV and assumed there was someone watching on the other side.

“Who are you?” she asked her reflection, suddenly struck by the strangeness of it all.

“We're here to help,” answered the voice. “My name's Mandy and I'll be looking after you from now on.”

“Where's my brother? What's with all the mirrors?”

“We realize that you must be confused by the way you were brought in,” Mandy replied, a note of regret in her tone, “but we needed to remove you from the hot zone as quickly as possible.”

“Hot zone?” repeated Sarah. “You mean the fire at the refinery?”

The woman chuckled. “No. A hot zone is an area infected by a virus. From what your brother told us, we know you've seen the effects of the meteorite strike first hand. The survivors of the plane crash. The workers at the oil plant.”

“Robert talked to you?”

“Why wouldn't he?” Mandy replied, as if the question confused her. “We're here to help.”

Once again, Sarah started to feel the strange tingling sensation that had passed through her brain in the storeroom just before they were grabbed. This time, however, it was stronger, almost like the buzzing of the phone line connecting to the internet on her mum's ancient computer. She was filled with a very strong feeling that the woman behind the mirror was lying to her, hiding something. It was impossible to tell what it was, however, as the mirror seemed to be forming some kind of block. Sarah thought if only she could see the woman's eyes, she'd be able to tell more. Strange.

She also became aware that Robert was somewhere nearby, less than a hundred metres away. In fact, if she concentrated, she could almost…

Robert. Robert, are you there?

“Sarah, is everything okay? Sarah?”

The sound of the woman's voice snapped her back to reality and the strange feeling was lost. Sarah stepped away from the mirror, looking around the room. The sudden urge to smash the mirror grabbed her, to break down the thing blocking her odd, new instincts. If only there was a chair or something heavy…

“Sarah, someone is going to enter the room,” Mandy broke into her thoughts.

“I want to see Robert.”

“I don't want you to be afraid,” the woman continued. “We're going to take you to your brother. Okay?”

Sarah nodded. One second later a section of the wall opened, revealing a door she hadn't noticed. Through it stepped one of the white-suited figures, the mirrored faceplate showing a fishbowl reflection of the room. Instinctively, Sarah backed away from the advancing figure.

“It's okay, Sarah!” Mandy exclaimed. “Delta-6, your mask!”

The suit stopped and reached up to press a button on the side of its helmet. Immediately the mirrored surface of the faceplate became clear glass, revealing the features of a man about the same age as Daniel. He smiled and beckoned her to follow him with a gloved hand.