Most birds have found shelter high within the wall ledges, but the farm animals and pets have taken their place among their owners as if that was quite their entitlement.
As they settle down in their hard-fought quarters, tiredness finally prevails. Gradually, the tumultuous noise subsides as the torchlights dim and eventually fade out. The whole place succumbs to an eerily quiet darkness as if shrouded by a ghostly cloud.
John Sanders and Captain Walker take this chance to make their way cautiously back towards the entrance. They tread carefully among the slumbering mass, guided by the tenuous light of their dimmed torches, their path perilously narrowing as they advance. Once they reach the rock-strewn ledges surrounding the wide internal sea lake, they hasten their pace into the narrow side-corridor. At the opening edge of the rugged walls, they get on their knees and stretch their necks so they can get an unobstructed view of the outside.
The thick dust cloud, blowing in the warm wind, hurts their eyes and sticks to their sweaty skin. But they soon forget their discomfort as they watch in utter bewilderment the unrecognizable landscape.
They use their binoculars to scour the coastline, following the endless lines of flying machinery and constantly moving robots, their glowing lights making it look as if a giant swarm of fireflies have come to invade their island. Far away, on the horizon, even the ocean surface is awash with light, the dividing line looking like a freshly open wound, bleeding into a turbulent black river.
“We’d better return to the back aisles,” Walker suggests.
Sanders nods as he starts slowly retreating while insistently looking back, trying not to miss any details up to the last minute.
As the curved, jagged walls start blocking his field of view, Sanders notices a bright glow breaking through the darkened sky. Judging from the way it’s getting brighter and brighter, he reckons it must be flying very swiftly directly towards them. His next thought is soon confirmed as he focuses the image with his binoculars. Walker joins him, his arms trembling as he tries in vain to stay in focus.
“Friend or foe?” the captain asks hesitantly.
“It looks like that same kind of alien aircraft,” John Sanders reckons, still holding his binoculars tightly against his face.
Walker steps back on the narrow ledge, dislodging some loose rocks into the water as he briskly speeds up. Sanders soon turns his attention behind his back, thinking his friend has fallen into the water, but he is relieved to see Walker clumsily running away.
“There’s no point in fleeing, Walker. Let’s wait for them here. Whatever it is, it’ll be better for us to handle them upfront, far away from our people,” Sanders shouts, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
“You’re right. You’re right. Whatever it is,” Walker replies in an embarrassed tone as he stops dead in his tracks. He turns around, starting to walk in an overconfident stride as he retraces his steps, trying to hide any signs of nervousness.
Sanders nods as Walker slowly approaches him, showing his approval of his friend’s newly found bravery. But as Walker’s demeanour becomes even more boastful, pulling up his belt and inspecting his gun, John has to try hard to stop himself from laughing. At least for a moment, his old friend has managed to make him forget about their predicaments with his overtly confident act.
Both men put their arms on each other’s shoulders as Walker says with added impetus, “Let’s do it, John! Let’s show them! I’ll be damned if … oh God!”
Walker crouches abruptly, taking John Sanders with him as a dense white mist pours over their heads and spreads everywhere. As they hear a sudden splashing thump, they realise that the flying object has landed at the back of the lake.
As the mist dissipates, they recognise the arrowhead-like features of the alien aircraft, bobbing over the rippling waters.
They stay motionless, warily on guard as they watch the sleek craft moving towards the side, barely touching the rugged edge with its pointed nose.
But their sweeping fear turns into unexpected joy as the top half of the alien craft gradually rises.
“Mr Walker, Sanders!” Sam excitedly shouts as he jumps out onto the rocky path. “I’m okay. I’m back.”
As they run into one another and embrace in a long enthusiastic hug, Sam swallows hard to contain himself from breaking the news about the catastrophe.
“So pleased to see you, boy!” Sanders cheers but soon frowns when he sees the burn marks on Sam’s face. “What happened to you?”
“I’m okay, Sanders!” Sam tries to look unconcerned while quickly changing the subject. “How’s everything here? How is my family?”
“Your family is okay, Sam!” Mr Walker butts in. “Even the Lobarts are okay. They were moved into the hospital’s basement.”
“But I’m afraid the robots are still destroying everything …” John Sanders adds in a sullen voice.
“I need to see my family now. We need to talk … and soon,” Sam says as he stares intently at Walker.
“Then I’ll go and get them for you. They’re far inside, but I know exactly where,” Walker replies, pointing out in the distance.
Suddenly, Walker realises that Shaillah is quietly watching them by the lake’s shore.
“Hey, why is she still here? Is she causing more trouble? We’ve had enough!” Walker yells nervously.
“She saved my life, Walker.” Sam tries to calm down an impatient Walker.