The Dead Speak Ill Of The Living (The Dead Speak Paranormal Mysteries Book 1) (47 page)

  
“We have to go there, Peters, you have to take us there!”

  
“Okay Dee, okay, I will, I will. Please, Array, arrange things. But one
question.”

  
“Yes?”

  
“Are we likely to need firearms?”

  
“An exemplary precaution” the machine confirmed.

  
“I suppose you lot are going to want guns as well.”

  
“Ideally.”

  
“And can any of you use a gun?”

  
“I can,” Nazir said. There was a moment of connection between he and Peters,
and then the latter nodded.

  
The site they were driving to, at considerable speed in two cars, was near the
site of Dee’s father’s death, and she made them take the detour to get there.
As they parked up, Peters in his vehicle, the rest in Dee’s, she was breathing
heavily, clearly labouring under anxiety.

  
“Dee, do you want to do this?” Pohl asked.

  
“Yes, yes, I have to know.”

  
“Know what?” Peters asked, coming over.

  
“If my hunch is right. Turn it on Joe.”

  
The machine sprang into life, and there came the tortured remains of Dee’s
father. She winced, looked in physical pain, but was soon able to say “listen,
listen, do you hear it!”

  
“Err, no?” Peters replied.

  
“Exactly. The clicking noise has gone. Whatever it is, it’s moved on.”

  
“Do you think it’s the same one from my lab?” Peters asked.

  
“Maybe, maybe.” As Dee clearly wanted to leave now, the group moved on.

  
Both cars pulled to a halt on the edge of Moorland, and a huddle formed in
between them. A cordon of bored looking soldiers could be seen in the distance,
and whatever they were there for was beyond the crest of the hill.

  
“I want you to let me do the talking. All the talking. Keep it on the low low.”

  
“We get the idea,” Dee sighed.

  
“Okay, and if anyone asks, then you’re allowed to talk, and you’re with me,
send everyone to me.”

  
They turned and marched along the moor, picking their way carefully as there
was no path, and they came to a soldier.

  
“Hello, Peters, from the Fieldworks Supervisory Committee.”

  
“Never heard of it,” said the soldier as he looked at the document Peters
handed him.

  
“With all due respect, that’s kind of the point,” Peters replied calmly.

  
“Oh, yeah, okay, go on.”

  
Peters nodded, and the group thread their way up to the crest and looked over.
All were expecting something different, but an archaeological dig wasn’t
exactly topping their lists. But men with beards and spades were carefully
unearthing something which was hidden under the ground, and as they watched the
beards gathered, looked at what seemed to be a blue metal panel uncovered from
the soil, and were pointing at an even smaller panel.

  
“Excuse me,” Peters said to a man in a grey suit watching on the edge of the
dig. “What update can you give me?”

  
“Oh, it’s one of their ships alright. Must have crashed here the night of the
incident, but we didn’t realised because we were clearing all that shit up. Hey
are you new?”

  
“Yes,” lied Peters.

  
“Ah, well I’m very old. I’m Stevens.”

  
“Please to meet you Stevens.”

  
“So when you say ship, you mean, err…”

  
“From outer space, yeah. Be interesting to see if there’s any corpses in this
one like last time.”

  
“And last time you mean…”

  
“Twenty years ago. This things been in the ground all that time.”

  
Peters heard a thump and a cry behind him and turned to see Dee lying on the
ground.

  
“She fainted,” Joe cried as he knelt down beside her.

  
“She looks familiar,” Stevens said.

  
“Have you made any breakthroughs in their language?” Peters asked, desperate to
squeeze out what he could.

  
“Language, well, we have the samples of writing, but, oh, are you working out
how to speak to them?”

 
“Yes.”

  
“Peters,” Joe hissed.

  
“I better go look after my research assistant.”

  
Joe and Nazir carried an unconscious Dee to a car Peters brought up to the
site, laid her on the back seat, and drove to hospital immediately. She was
breathing, twitching, and Pohl was with her to make sure she was closely
monitored. They got halfway before Dee moaned, coughed, and opened her eyes.

  
“Are you alright?” Pohl asked.

  
“I..I… yes, yes I’m fine.”

  
“You collapsed,” Joe said concerned as he turned a corner. “You must be sick or
something?”

  
“No, I’m not sick, not sick at all.”

  
“Then what is it? Why did you faint?”

  
“Because I remember,” and her face was torn between relief and horror. “Oh
Jesus, I remember that night, my father.”

  
“Shit, really?” Nazir said turning round to smile and squeeze her hand.

  
“Seeing that spaceship, it broke it all open.”

  
“Then tell us!”

  
“Peters needs to hear this.”

  
The two cars pulled into a layby, and as Nazir bought coffee and hot dogs for
everyone they gathered in a huddle. Then Dee held court on her past.

  
“We were driving along, and there was a huge explosion, fire in the woods. Dad
thought something had gone off, a gas canister or something, and ran to help. I
waited, and waited, and then he yanked open the door. He told me, then, that
he’d found a spaceship that had crashed, that he’d found a dying alien clicking
his last, and that he’d come back to call help. And then…” she choked up, but
forced it out, “he was shot. Not by an alien, but by a man in a grey suit.”

  
“A human?”

  
“Yes. He shot my father, who died next to me, and the man pointed the pistol at
me. Then he argued with someone else. Argued and said he wasn’t killing a child
no matter what they wanted, and they could cover this up some other way.”

  
“And then?”

  
“And then I blacked out and locked it all away.”

  
“Fuck,” Nazir said, and the others thought it appropriate.

  
They stood there for a few moments, digesting it, and then spoke their
conclusions out loud.

  
“There really are aliens,” Joe said.

  
“The government killed my Dad.”

  
“Alien ghosts have a Construct and we’ve no idea what they’re going to do with
it.”

  
“Fuckity fuck fuck,” Nazir added.

  
“Right, look, I need to go back to the lab and see how our search is getting
on,” Peters felt someone needed to be told, but who? “I think you all deserve
some sleep, certainly Dee does.”

  
“I’m not a baby.”

  
“No, but you were affected enough to collapse. Go home, and write me a report
in as much detail as possible so I can look into this.”

  
“We’re being given the cold shoulder,” Joe said, feeling he was a good judge of
that happening.

  
“Yes. This is getting interdepartmental, and big. I need to consult my own
team. But stay on the other end of a phone, okay?”

  
They murmured agreement.

  
The group drove off, but fifteen minutes later Joe looked in the rear view
mirror and grimaced.

  
“We’re being followed,” he announced.

  
“Ah you sure?” Pohl asked wearily. The adrenaline had worn off, and the group
just wanted to go back and get Dee some rest.

  
“A red car, been going wherever we go.”

  
“What do you mean wherever?” Nazir asked, having identified the vehicle.

  
“I’ve done a complete loop of this estate, and it’s still there. Either it’s
very lost or it’s following us.”

  
“Fuck.”

  
“Shall I put my foot down and lose it?”

  
“No,” Pohl said quickly, “if they have our car they’ll know where we live, no
sense in killing ourselves to end up back at home and obvious.”

  
“Then we don’t go home,” Dee announced.

  
“What?”

  
“We lose them and we hunker down somewhere else and tell Peters what’s up.
We’re not walking back home and into a trap.”

  
“Are you sure,” Pohl said and rather unnecessarily took Dee’s temperature by
laying a hand on the woman’s forehead.

  
“Yes.”

  
“Joe isn’t exactly a combat trained driver,” Nazir point out with an ‘I’m
sorry’ mouthed to Joe.

  
“Lose them Joe, just don’t get us killed.”

  
Smiling, about to relive the boyhood dream of millions of men, albeit very few
who loved science kits, Joe tapped at the sat nav and thought of a route. Then
he put his foot down and sped away.

  
The tailing car followed, immediately speeding up, and Joe knew he was right.
So the thing to do was to aim for a dense collection of roads, buildings and
turnings in which one car could quickly lose sight of the other, and then make
a break for it. This seemed far more likely than racing to a railway crossing and
getting the pursuers stuck behind a heavy goods lorry, and there was a target
within range.

  
Dee’s car sped up, to the limits of its experience, and Dee said a silent
prayer that Tom would make it through the test. Then Joe was at the target
site, the car was turning and turning through an old British Gas site being
converted into residential housing. Some of the twists were on the limit, and
Joe would admit he wasn’t on control for it all, but soon the car burst out of
the entrance and went back the way they’d come. The other car wasn’t behind
them, and as they pushed and went over a hill they all nervously watched out
the rear window. However, soon Nazir was able to conclude “you did it.”

  
They were clear.

  
Maquire was sat at his desk consuming a doughnut, which he’d initially refused
because it made him a total fucking cliché, but which he’d given in to when it
was left on his desk and the smell began to creep into his nose. He half
thought the new D.C. who bought it in was sweet on him, which was nice, but he
wasn’t his type. And then he discovered the chocolate centre and decided maybe
bisexuality was interesting after all. Would certainly distract him from Dee,
who was no doubt out getting herself killed, because that’s what her group
normally did.

  
There was a knocking and Bear came in.

  
“Got something for you,” the big man said, flopping onto a chair then adding
“you’re eating a fucking doughnut?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“You’re making us all look silly.”

  
“No one can see it. Anyway, what have you got?”

  
“A series of thefts. An importer and supplier of high end electronics has
called in, someone broke in and drove off with a van full of their stuff. We’ve
sent a team down, and no one can find the security guard.”

  
“Inside job?”

  
“No. Then this came in, a firm which works on servicing and installing
generators, electrical systems, not household stuff but ‘we’ll set up your
factory’ stuff. Had a load of stuff missing…”

  
“Driven off in a van?”

  
“You got it. Next we have a firm who make very expensive communications
systems..”

  
“Not iPhones.”

  
“No, satellites and stuff.”

  
“So a series of incredibly expensive kit has been nicked from the surrounding
area.”

  
“Oh yes, and people are missing at every scene.”

  
“So either they’ve all teamed up, or they’re all abducted with the gear?”

  
“Yeah. Or dead in the van.”

  
“And you brought me this for a reason didn’t you.”

  
“Yeah, it sounds like weird shit. That’s your realm.”

  
“Thank you for your confidence. It might be worth placing a call with my local
experts on dodgy electronics.”

  
“Yeah, you do that. I’m going back to an old fashioned rape and a pizza.”

  
“Now who’s making us look bad!”

  
Maguire picked up his phone and rang Dee.

  
“Hi,” came a tired and spaced out voice.

  
“It’s me.”

  
“Yeah, I know.” What had been going on?

  
“I suppose you’re running from bad guys.”

  
“We’re hiding from the MI5 branch who hide the existence of aliens from us.”

  
“No need to be sarcastic.”

  
“What? I’m…okay, go on, what have you got.”