The Green Fog~5

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The vicar opened my door and hugged me. The lady beamed at me and then went around to the rear door and opened it.

‘It’s a miracle,’ she said, embracing both Jeanie and Nicola.

Angel

The Green Fog
By



Susan Brown


 
Chapter 5

 

Previously…

An hour later, I shut the front door of the house that had given us refuge overnight. I silently thanked the absent owners and prayed with all my heart that somehow they had been saved from the catastrophe.

The Land Rover started at the second attempt and I crunched the gears as we set off, but not too badly.

We passed through the rest of the village, through the main street that comprised of a few shops and a pub. Ahead I could see the tower of the church. According to the map of the village I saw on the wall of the study, it was All Saints Church. I looked to the left as we approached the church and saw that the high tower was separate from the main church building.

We were just going past when suddenly, two people rushed out from the churchyard and stood in the road immediately in front of us, waving their arms.

Slamming on the brakes, we all shot forward in our seats, Ben yelped and the two girls in the back, shouted with alarm.

Looking at the strangers I had visions of the man with the knife, but then saw that it was a vicar and a lady whom I assumed was his wife. They didn’t look mad; just overjoyed at seeing us. They came forward as soon as we had stopped.

After I opened the window, the vicar approached and smiled at us.

‘Thank The Lord,’ he said; ‘you have been saved–just like us!!’

And now the story continues…

All Saints Church

The vicar opened my door and hugged me. The lady beamed at me and then went around to the rear door and opened it.

‘It’s a miracle,’ she said, embracing both Jeanie and Nicola.

They were both talking at once, making it difficult to understand what they were saying.

‘Harold, wait a moment; with both of us speaking at once these poor girls can make neither head nor tail of what we’re saying.’

‘Sorry, Penny,’ said the vicar, smiling and stepping back slightly.

‘Would you like to come into the vicarage and so we can talk? I bet you would all like a cup of tea or squash?’

I glanced at Jeanie who nodded almost imperceptibly.

‘All right,’ I said, ‘we’ll come.’

We got out of the car and with Ben lolloping on ahead; then followed the vicar and his wife into the Vicarage.

It seemed odd sitting there in the parlour, everything looking absolutely normal–as if the world hadn’t changed at all. I half expected someone from the Women’s Institute to come in at any moment to tell the vicar’s wife about the latest jam-making jamboree.

The vicar–The Rev Harold Farthing–was, I suppose, in his mid forties, as was his wife Penny. They had pleasant open faces and seemingly couldn’t do enough for us. He was wearing the traditional dark suit and dog collar and she a summer dress, which struck me as being a bit odd because it was still winter. Mind you, with the roaring fire in the grate, it was rather warm!

We didn’t speak about the horrors that we had seen yet, I think that we were just all happy to someone, anyone else alive! Nicola was on the floor playing with Ben and was more interested in that than listening to what we were talking about. Soon, we had finished our drinks and biscuits and began discussing what had happened.

The Rev Farthing spoke first. ‘It was I suppose quite late in the evening and I glanced out of the window. I was still up because I had been working on my sermon for Sunday and Penny had already retired because she was feeling slightly off colour. I noticed that it was somewhat misty in the distance over the Cherwell Valley. It had been rather dull and overcast and had rained, but up to the time the fog came it had cleared up and the moon was full, so I could see the river sparking slightly in the moonlight. Then I could see the green fog roll over the other side of the valley. I had a good view of it in the study and it sort of glowed and throbbed if you can understand that.

‘I did not like the look of things, so I roused my wife and she was of the same opinion. Somehow we knew it to be evil. It approached us quite slowly and I had my powerful binoculars–the ones I used for bird watching–and I could monitor its progress as it came lazily towards us. I noticed a car coming from the left on the Station Road just outside Cropredy, its headlights cutting through the night like a knife. Then the fog appeared to somehow increase its speed, almost as if it was chasing the car. With horror I watched the fog advance and envelop the car. I could see the headlights still, green and eerie as they reflected the evil fog. Then the headlights became erratic and not following the road as the driver, God protect the poor soul, lost control of the car and it crashed, dowsing one light. Then almost immediately after that there was a tremendous explosion as the car blew up.

‘The fog continued its course towards us and I knew that I had to rouse the village. My wife and I put on our coats because it was bitterly cold and ran over to the bell tower.

‘Soon I was pulling on the tenor bell rope with all my might while Penny went to the gallery at the top of the tower with the binoculars to watch the progress of the fog and see if there was any movement in the village.’

‘Yes,’ Penny confirmed, ’I could see the fog advancing towards us and it seemed to be accelerating–almost as if it was aware of our presence and was looking for us. One or two lights came on in the village and a few people looked out of their windows, but no one came out. Then, through the binoculars, I noticed someone on the edge of the village. It was the constable on his bicycle, no doubt coming to us to see what the fuss was about. He didn’t realise that the fog was creeping up behind him. I would swear on the Holy Bible that the fog increased its speed and then swallowed him. The last thing I saw was him falling off his bicycle before the fog became too dense for me to see. Soon, half the village was consumed and shrouded in the fog. It was heading towards us at some speed so I ran down and told Harold to stop ringing the bell and come and see what was happening. He followed me back up the winding stairs and when we had reached the top, the tendrils of fog were already in the churchyard and had overtaken the vicarage.’

Nicola, having stopped playing with Ben–he had gone to sleep–came to Jeanie and me, sitting between us and holding our hands.

The vicar took up the story. ‘When we got to the top, it was as if we were above a green sea of cloud. The tower is the highest point around here. At any moment, we expected the fog to come towards us. We knelt down in prayer, hoping against hope for salvation. We were there for some minutes and apart from each of us feeling some tightness in our chests that made breathing more difficult, we felt nothing else.

‘Eventually, after saying The Lord’s Prayer, we stood up and surveyed the scene once more. The fog had gone! When I say gone, it had left us and we could see it in the distance heading towards Shotteswell and Warmington. Looking across, it was a vast bank of fog and I couldn’t see how wide it was, so at the time we had no idea if it was a local phenomenon or more widespread. It is only now that we find that this evil thing must have affected an enormous area.

‘I’ll never forget when we looked in all the houses and cottages in the village and found every man, woman and child, dead. It made me feel like God had abandoned us; but then I was reminded that we had been spared and we must have been spared for a purpose, to look after others and give them food and shelter.’

‘Everywhere we have been has had this.’ I said, after a moment of silence, ’We’ve seen some horrible sights.’

‘You poor things,’ said Penny coming and giving us hugs. ‘You must have been terrified.’

‘It was dreadful,’ said Jeanie, ‘everywhere we went there were dead bodies–lying around like rag-dolls. We did see someone but he was violent and we got away from him just before another dose of the fog came up and killed him.’

‘There are others alive then,’ the vicar said eagerly, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands as if in prayer.

‘Yes’, I agreed, ‘we saw two cars on our travels but we had no idea whether they got caught in the fog later on or not and then we saw an aeroplane, a small one heading north. We tried to keep up with it, but it was impossible.’

‘All this sounds a bit jumbled,’ said Jeanie, ‘let me tell you what happened to us––’ She told the couple about our school, waking up and finding everyone dead and the incredible fact that Nicola and I had somehow changed into girls. Then finding Nicola and the fraught journey that we had undertaken to reach here.

The vicar and his wife looked at each other and raised their eyebrows. I wondered if they believed Jeanie. It seemed so far-fetched to me, I could understand their scepticism.

‘So,’ the vicar said, looking at me, ‘you and Nicola were once boys?’

‘Yes. It seems like ages ago now, but it’s only a few days.’

‘Have you seen anyone else that has been, erm–transformed as you were?’

‘No, only the people we told you about.’

I didn’t tell them about the man in the hospital as Jeanie was unaware of that incident and I didn’t want to talk about it anyway.

‘Well,’ said the vicar,’ it would be best if you stay with us. God has seen fit to spare us and he has sent you to us. The least we can do is look after you like the Good Samaritan.’

‘But we must go on.’ I stressed.

‘All in good time and anyway, where would you go?’

‘Scotland–our parents are there and we need to find out if they are all right.’

‘They may be–you know, dead,’

‘We must find out,’ I replied firmly.

Once again, I saw a look pass between the vicar and his wife, one that I couldn’t fathom.

‘Look,’ said Penny, ‘I understand why you have to go to Scotland, but it’s a long way and there are things out there that might, no, will harm you. You’ve already been attacked by a man and the fog has nearly got to you too. Why not stay for just a few days and then we might get to know a bit more about how things are going in the country. You are all so terribly young.’

‘We’ve had to grow up quickly,’ said Jeanie bitterly.

‘You have,’ agreed the vicar, ‘but we all need support sometimes. What Penny has said makes sense. Stay with us for just a few days and then if you feel you must; then continue your journey. We may know a bit more about the devil’s fog by then. I hope and pray that it has left us now, but we have to be careful.’

‘It seems to come in the late afternoon or the evening,’ Jeanie said, changing the subject.

‘We have only seen it once but you have had two experiences. That may be significant,’ the vicar pondered.

I glanced at Jeanie and her look reflected my feelings. We wanted to go on but this couple were so passionate about helping us and what the vicar said was true; we had no real idea what was happening. She nodded at me and I nodded back.

‘All right,’ I said, ‘we will stay a few days but then, if we can, we must carry on to find our parents.’

A look of relief came over the vicar and his wife. They seemed genuinely pleased that we were staying and it made me feel a bit guilty that I had any misgivings about them.

The vicarage was a large one with four bedrooms. After parking the car, we brought in all our belongings. Then we could sort out what we would need to take and things that might be surplus to requirements.

Penny saw us struggling with the oxygen tanks and came over.

‘You won’t need those, you are safe with us,’ she said smiling.

I was going to say something, but Jeanie piped up before I could. ‘They are needed for our asthma.’

‘What, all of you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, we are all asthmatic.’

‘You poor things,’ she said. ‘Here let me help you. I don’t know where Harold has got to.’

Just then, Harold came around the corner holding Nicola’s hand and Ben came sniffing along behind them. They came up to us as we were shutting the car doors and moving the rather cumbersome cylinders on wheels.

‘My goodness, do you really need those?’ he said.

‘Yes Harold, the poor things suffer from asthma.’

‘Lord, that is bad. I was a sufferer myself as a child, but I grew out of it. Here let me help you.’

Nicola went off in front with her ever present shadow, Ben, bounding after her as we followed at a slower pace.

We all surveyed our things stacked up in a corner of the rather large hall. It was surprising the amount we had.

‘We can sort this lot out later,’ said Penny, ‘let’s have some lunch.’

‘Have you enough food?’ I asked.

A sad look overcame her. ‘Yes, we always stock up on food. Before–all this happened, we often had visitors. Anyway, Harold and I, when we went to check on our parishioners and found––what we found, we realised that we would need to stock up and we gathered as much as we could. So, in answer to your question, we have plenty.’

We sat down to a meal comprising of tinned ham, potatoes and baked beans at the large kitchen table.

As we sat down, the vicar looked at us all and beamed. ‘Let us pray.

Our Father in Heaven,
We give thanks for the pleasure
Of gathering together for this occasion.
We give thanks for this food
Prepared by loving hands.
We give thanks for life,
The freedom to enjoy it all
And all other blessings.
As we partake of this food,
We pray for health and strength
To carry on and try to live as You would have us.
This we ask in the name of Christ,
Our Heavenly Father.

Amen.’

After that, we ate in silence. Nicola was toying with her food and I wondered what was wrong. I didn’t say anything and just finished my meal.

Then, looking up I said, ‘Excuse me, I need to go to the loo.’

‘At the top of the stairs, dear, second right.’

‘Thank you, Penny.’ I replied as I got up.

I soon found it and did the necessary. It was strange not having anything to hold when I had a wee, and it was a bit messier too. I had to get used to all this, probably for the rest of my life.

I wiped myself, pulled up my knickers and adjusted my skirt. After washing my hands in cold water I left the bathroom. Then I stopped suddenly as Nicola was standing there, teddy in her arms, looking a bit upset.

‘What’s wrong, Nicola?’

‘Can I tell you a secret,’ she whispered.

‘Of course, honey.’ I said bending down to her level. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s the vicar. I don’t like him or her either. We were walking through the graveyard and he was holding my hand rather tightly. Then he started mumbling to himself about burying the dead and that there was not enough room in the graveyard for all the departed–I s'pose that means the dead people. Then he said something about Adam, being naughty and wanting to leave.’

‘Well he’s a bit upset, we all are. Everything is horrible at the moment.’

‘I know. I lost my Mummy and Daddy so I’m very sad, but he seemed a bit strange. After talking about this Adam he turned to me and said that we had been saved by God and he would not forsake us, whatever that means. Then he said that as this is God’s house and we were on secret ground–’

‘D’you mean sacred?’

‘Prob’ly,’ she said as I smiled at her mispronunciation.

‘Well, I don’t think you need to worry. He’s a vicar and they are very important. They try to help others and part of their job is to bury the dead. What is wrong with Penny though, she seems nice?’

‘When she smiles, her eyes don’t.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Yes, but there is something I don’t like about her.’

‘Well, don’t worry. I’m sure that they are good people. Anyway, you have Jeanie and me looking after you, not forgetting Ben. We are family now and families look after each other. If you have any worries, come and see us.’

She looked relieved as I took her hand and we went downstairs.

The others were clearing away after the meal and the vicar came to me.

‘Everything all right?’ he asked glancing at Nicola and then back at me.

‘Yes, fine. Nicola, why not take Ben outside so that he can do his business, he’s by the door.’

She ran over to Ben.

‘And Nicola, stay in the garden, but if anything looks strange come straight back in.’

I turned back to Harold.

‘We have been keeping a watch out for the fog, we think that it only comes later in the day and it also appears to set us off with our asthma shortly before.’

‘Well, Alex, you have more experience than us with this, but as far as we are concerned, the fog will not attack us as we are protected. It might just be that the tower is too high but my feeling as a man of God is that we are protected somehow. The Lord has spared us for a reason. But to allay your fears, we will keep watch and if the fog does return, we’ll go up the tower and God willing, all will be well.’

I wished I had his faith, but after seeing what I had seen and all the death and destruction, I did not have the same feelings about God as he. Yes, I believed, but what I believed was that we should not rely on him to get us out of sticky situations and we are responsible for our actions. I also thought that it was a bit strange that he and Penny thought that they were somehow special and that they would be spared for some higher purpose.

We spent the rest of the afternoon resting and reading some of the books from the library. They had a wide range of books from childrens to heavy references. It appears that the couple had a child and the boy was in boarding school like us. They spoke of eight year old Jeffrey as if he was still alive and would not accept the fact that he was probably dead. I sort of agreed with Nicola’s observation that the couple were a bit strange and I put that down to the fact that they had not yet come to terms with the tragedy that had befallen the world. For all that, they seemed harmless and a loving pair. Their devotion to each other was obvious and I suppose religion had given them comfort at a time when it was badly needed.

Late in the afternoon, Jeanie and I went up the tower to have a look around and start our lookout vigil. The view from the gallery was stunning. Nicola was asleep on the sofa in front of the fire with Ben close by. The vicar and his wife had gone over to the church to say prayers. They had asked us to join them, but we said that we wanted to check things first. They accepted that and went hand in hand along the churchyard path and into the cold confines of the silent church.

As we were by ourselves Jeanie spoke about her misgivings. ‘I am worried about Harold and Penny. They think that they are protected and they aren’t.’

‘I know, but they have a strong faith and that’s what’s holding them together.’

‘I think we should try to get away as soon as possible. We can’t vegetate here and I am worried about Nicola. She’s very quiet.’

‘I know,’ I replied and then told her of the conversation that I had with her outside the bathroom.

‘You don’t think that we are in danger?’ asked Jeanie.

‘No, but we need to keep an eye on things and I don’t want to trust in God to look after us. That’s our job. At the first whiff of danger, we go up to the bedroom and get the oxygen going; no matter what they say.’

The first thing we had done after our meal earlier was to take the cylinders upstairs to the bedroom. The vicar said that it wasn’t necessary, but Jeanie and I were taking no chances.

As we looked out over the valley once again, we saw that the river was glinting in the sunshine; it all looked so peaceful. We heard the songs of birds all around us and I could see some sheep dotted on a hill like so many blobs of cotton wool against the green of the grass. The wind had dropped totally now and the sun was setting slowly in the west.

We heard the sound of shoes running up the stone steps and turned around to see a rather breathless Nicola come through the arch and run over to us. Ben followed behind, wagging his tail.

‘Can I see,’ said Nicola excitedly, jumping up and down. She was a bit short and couldn’t see over the wall that surrounded the gallery.

I lifted her up and she looked around. The sun, as was normal at that time of year, was dipping quickly and the shadows of the trees were growing longer as it set in the west.

‘Oh no!’ said Jeanie looking over towards the river about two miles away in the east.

I put Nicola down and looked where Jeanie was staring.

Over the brow of the hill, I could see some faint wisps of green fog-like tendrils. In moments it had thickened and seemed to ooze over the horizon heading slowly but surely towards us. But it wasn’t going slowly; it was just a trick of the distance. We could see that it appeared to accelerate and then in moments, cover the village of Cropredy over the other side of the valley.

‘Quick,’ said Jeanie, ‘we must warn the others.’

After taking one final look at the approaching green, throbbing bank of fog, I dashed after the others, nearly falling down the stone steps of the tower in the mad rush to get to the bottom.

We were all shouting like mad as Harold and Penny rushed out of the church and over to us.

‘What is it, children?’ asked Harold.

‘The fog,’ shouted Jeanie, ‘it’s coming!’

Harold looked at his wife, who smiled nervously.

‘We must go up the tower; it is the best place for us all.’

‘What about the oxygen, we need it.’ I said.

‘You will not need it. As I have said before, God will protect us and we will be too high for the fog to get to us.’

‘You must come with us up to the tower,’ confirmed Penny, ‘you will be safe with us, I promise you.’

I looked at Jeanie and then Nicola, standing wide eyed and sucking her thumb.

‘No, we must do as we did before. That saved us.’

‘But God will save you,’ shouted Harold his eyes now looking rather wild.

‘We can’t take a chance. Come on, let’s get back in the house, quickly. I feel my chest getting tight.’

Harold suddenly grabbed Nicola’s hand and she squealed.

‘At least let us save the child.’

‘No, let her go,’ shouted Jeanie.

Then Ben, who had just stood there, acted. In a bound, he was on Harold and knocked him over. Harold released Nicola who then hurried over to us. We wasted no more time but just ran for it.

‘Stop!’ shouted Harold as we swept past him and ran towards the house.

‘Please come back,’ wailed Penny.

Jeanie stopped on the path and turned around, indecision showing clearly.

‘Jeanie, come on!’ I shouted.

‘Penny, Harold, come with us, we’ll share the oxygen or something, please come.’

‘No, we must go up the tower,’ said Harold. ‘Come Penny, they are lost to us. Let us go up to the tower and save ourselves and the child.’

After one last sorrowful look at us, they turned and ran to the tower as we in turn ran to the vicarage. It was hard going now as I could sense that the fog was getting closer even though from our low vantage point we could not see it.

We were all struggling for breath as we rushed into the house, slammed the door shut and ran upstairs to the bedroom where the cylinders were. I shut the bedroom door after us and threw some blankets on the floor jamming them up against the bottom of the door which had a rather wide gap, trying to block the fog from seeping in if that was possible.

Jeanie went to the window and screamed.

Rushing to her side I could see why she was so upset. The fog had reached the churchyard. It looked like a huge wall of illuminated throbbing green vapour, silently covering the ground and consuming everything in its path. To the side was the church which had already been covered. The tower stood alone at the side and I could see the small forms of Harold and Penny standing on the gallery where we had stood just moments ago. The fog was going higher and higher, reaching out–searching and I wondered if this time they would cheat death like they had before.

There was not a moment to lose. Having sorted out the oxygen masks and turned the knobs to the on position, we lay down on the double bed. Ben was at the bottom of bed sitting and looking as if he was trying to protect us. We said nothing and just held each other, absolutely terrified and waiting for the horror to come to us.

The only thing we could see out of the windows was green. What light there was, was fading as the sun was setting on the horizon. The fog was so impenetrable I could see nothing else out there.

Staring at the door, I could see the first wisps of the fog come through the key hole, then the sides of the door–it was like fingers, searching for us. It seemed to sense us as it came closer and closer. It must have been similar to what that poor man in the hospital experienced a few days ago and I was terrified. It was as if it was living–but it couldn’t be.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that more fog was coming in through the gaps in the side and middle of the sash window. I felt helpless as it reached out for us...

Then I heard the eerie sound of the church bell tolling. It rang five times and then was silent.

With a whimper, Ben collapsed on the bed and then the room seemed suddenly to fill with the green fog and then everything went black.

~ §~

When I awoke, the sun was streaming through the window. Nicola was up and sitting with her teddy over in the corner. She looked up as I stretched.

‘Hello, you’re awake then. Jeanie and Ben are still asleep and the fog has gone.’

I got up and crossed to the window. The first thing I looked at was the tower. There was no sign of Harold and Penny though and I wondered if they were all right. It was a bright, sunny morning and there was no indication that the dreadful fog had even been here. It was as if nothing had happened and the day had begun just like any other and would finish, as usual, with the setting of the sun. Only there was no such thing as “normal” any more and I wondered if there ever would be.

‘I was going to go out but was a bit scared to go by myself,’ Nicola told me.

‘I don’t blame you.’ I smiled and then turned as Jeanie began to stir.

Jeanie sat up and rubbed her eyes and then looked at us.

‘We made it then?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Come on, Ben, wake up, lazy bones!’

Ben twitched, then yawned, decided to stretch, open his eyes and then thump his tail against the bedding as he saw all of us.

‘Come on,’ said Jeanie, ‘we had better go and see what’s happened.’

We made our way through the silent vicarage and out of the front door into the bright sunny garden. The sun was warm against my bare legs, promising that spring was just around the corner. The fact that there was no sign of Harold and Penny was not, I thought, a good omen.

We walked up to the tower and entered through the archway and up the long winding stone staircase that led to the bell tower and viewing gallery. We had wanted Nicola to stay at the bottom with Ben, but she didn’t want to be alone and insisted that she come with us. We hadn’t the heart to refuse her.

At the top, we walked through the arch and immediately saw what we had dreaded. Harold and Penny were lying there together. He had a crucifix in his hand and she a bible. They were on their backs in that strange ragdoll pose that many of the dead had. There was no shock or horror on their faces, rather a slight smile played on their bluing lips.

Jeanie and I hugged each other, tears coming freely. Nicola seemed strangely unmoved–perhaps she had become hardened to the sight of death, but her head was cocked on one side as if she was listening to something. Ben was over by a door that I hadn’t noticed previously and began to whine. Nicola went over to the door and listened.

‘Hey, girls, there’s a scratching noise, can you hear it?’ she said, putting her ear against the door.

Jeanie and I tore ourselves away from the prone forms of the vicar and his wife and went to Nicola and Ben, who was now pawing at the door.

‘Stop that, Ben,’ I commanded and he just looked at me, gave me that “hard done by” look, whined and sat down.

I could hear nothing and then heard a faint knocking sound coming from behind the door.

I looked at the others. ‘It may be a rat or something.’ I suggested.

‘P’raps,’ said Jeanie.

‘Well I’m not afraid,’ Nicola said, as she turned the large key in the old lock and then the handle and opened the door.

We all gasped as there on the floor, tied up with ropes around his hands and ankles, was a boy. He had a gag in his mouth and had obviously been crying. He looked at us, eyes wide at the sight of us.

In seconds, we had untied him and taken the gag out of his mouth. He was very weak and could hardly move for himself. We helped him out and propped him up against the wall. The poor kid was shaking like mad and sobbing uncontrollably. I suppose he was about eleven or twelve with hair a little long, and was wearing a grubby shirt, short trousers and a plain–if dirty–jacket.

After a few minutes, he calmed down and then took stock of his surroundings. His eyes went wide when he saw the still forms of Harold and Penny.

‘Are…are they dead?’ he asked in a soft voice.

‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘the fog got them. How did you get in that room?’

‘I–I came here the other day. My mum and dad are away at the moment–dad is the verger, and the vicar and his wife said that they would look after me overnight. Then the fog came and we were up here. Then…then it happened, the fog it came and killed everyone except us. We were up here and it seemed to miss us. The next morning we went to look what had happened and everyone was dead.

‘I wanted to go and find my parents, but they wouldn’t let me. They said that I needed saving or something. Then I cut up rough and said that I would go and no one was going to stop me. Penny said that we should at least go up the tower again to make sure that there was no more fog coming before I left and then when we reached the top, someone hit me over the head and I woke up in that room. It was dark and scary and I was trussed up like a chicken. I couldn’t shout either because of that gag thing. I was there for ages and...and I’ve made a bit of a mess in my trousers.’

He stopped for a moment and looked as if he was going to cry again, but he took a deep breath and continued.

‘I did hear some talking at one point and I tried to make some noise, but no one came. Then it started to get dark and I could hardly breathe. I felt like someone was sitting on my chest. The bell started ringing then and I sort of blacked out and I woke up again when I heard you.’

‘Are you called Adam?’ Nicola asked.

‘Yes, that’s me,’ he replied.

‘Well,’ said Jeanie, ‘you’re safe now.’

‘What about my parents?’

‘I don’t know, they may have survived.’

‘I must find out; they’re only at my aunt’s house at Farnborough.’

‘All right,’ I said, ‘we can go that way. We've got a Land Rover and there's room for another if you want to come with us.’

‘That would be great,’ he said smiling and shakily getting up.

‘Just one thing,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘This might be a strange question, but are you a boy or a girl?’

‘Boy of course!’

‘Erm, this is going to sound weird, but erm, have…have you got a–erm–willy?’

‘What, are you mad like those two over there–? Of course I have...’

His hand had automatically went between his rather damp legs and he felt there. His eyes widened and then he stared in horror at all three of us.

‘Excuse me,’ he said with a strangled voice and hurried back into the room where he had been held prisoner. A few seconds later we heard a strangled voice.

‘Oh, HELL––!’


 
To be continued…

 

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Comments

Well I always thought

That entrusting oneself to devoted people is only prudent if you are as devoted as they are - and vicar and his wife have proven thins with their fanaticism. At least the child once known as Adam is still alive - why didn't the fog get him the second time...

Oh right, the fog did - otherwise his having a rearrangement of nether regions and blackout make no sense. Why he is alive is a better question.

Faraway


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Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

I have a theory

Asthmatic, pubescent, children, may be immune to the fog.
Until I read other wise I will hold to this theory until more information is presented.
That Adam was spared from death because the gag may have acted in the same way as asthma attack in not allowing for normal breathing.
We see from reading this in chapter 5 that the Boss upstairs, isn't going to stop the "FOG" from doing its job.
So the Vic and his better-half got it in round 2.

Now if they had been on O2 then they just may have been spared. But I can't maintain that theory until I read more.

This story has more twists, turns and action, in it then a "007" novel...

You've, done good so far Sue. Kudos to you!

ChrisW

ph-10017.jpg
If you 1st can't get them to agree, then cut them to bits...

Konichiwa

Who's the girl?

She certainly seems... sad.

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

I don't view death in the western way.

Now for me, this life is just a stop along the way. I don't want it very badly; seen too much. So, God not saving someone from death is not a failure to me.

Khadijah

The Rev Farthing and…

…his wife, Penny. He is obviously a cyclist because they have (or had?) kids, although I'm sure Mrs Farthing is anything but an old bike! :-)

Hmmmm, do I perhaps detect the influence of Gabi in this?

Norma

Hmmm. "Put Not Thy Trust In Vicars"

The instincts of small children, let them be thy guide, for they evolved because they encouraged our survival.

Mrs Vicar, Penny, is not an old bike now, nor anything else either! Was, not is, is the word, Norma.

Briar

Briar

After your reply, Briar,…

…I realised that I ought to have written, “I'm sure Penny Farthing is anything but an old bike!

Norma

The Green Fog~5

Well, Sue has given us another spooky chapter and another mystery, too. wonder if this fog caused the events in THe Chosen in some way to have happened?

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Adam fog-got the oxygen

Hope Eternal Reigns's picture

Hey Sue,

So the green fog got Adam, but didn't kill him/her. So either, only a tiny bit of the fog got through the door and it wasn't enough to kill or Adam was spared for some reason. Was it because the fog is predatory and having a human trussed up in a closet 'isn't sporting'? This would be the final indication that it is sentient.

I anxiously await futher revelations in this interesting tale.

Thank you for sharing it.

with love,

Hope

with love,

Hope

Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.

more,more

you've got me glued waiting for more please more!!!!!!

Love the end

Yes, it is no doubt a bad sitch for these poor kids and the people all around them of course.

But the last line is absolutely Hilarious. Thank you Sue for injecting at least a spark of humor into a dreadful circumstance.

Kim

Haunting

And creepy! It seems the Fog is under some kind of control and direction. I picked up on the Vicar as having asthma as a child. Could this had helped him? Adam's reaction is simply priceless. :) Great stuff Sue!

Hugs!

Grover

An older uptake on this theme

When I read the first chapter of this story it immediately reminded of this story the last man alive (written in 1938) I read in my youth. I is well written and even a fun read for adults. the book was first published in Germany in 1971 with the title "Die grüne Wolke". A slightly renewed version was even made into a film. And the author found a rather unique solution for all the dead bodies. but for that to find out you need to read it yourself or read it to your children...

Another girl is made...

...so what will Adam be renamed? Eve? :)

Meanwhile, I'm totally unsurprised that our friendly local vicar and wife didn't survive. The fog has already shown itself to be adaptable, so when it realised it had missed a few the first time, it tried again.

As for the fog's modus operandi, I'd hazard a guess that it 'examines' a mouth-based chemical (saliva?) to determine human / not human - as Adam was gagged, evidently it couldn't get inside his mouth (unlike other victims). I'm still not sure what causes the gender switch - but I'm increasingly starting to think the fog is sentient...

 


There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

So now there are four children…

…and a dog—a new Famous Five to surpass the exploits of Enid Blyton's Julian, Dick, Anne, George and Timmy the dog which were first published between the 1940s and 1960s. Although the scenario is very different. There similarities because In Sue's story the twins, Ally and Jeannie's father is a scientist, like George(ina)'s father. I adored Enid Blyton's books when I was a girl, reading them over and over again. If you are interested in reading them try to get hold of older editions because the ones in print today have been made "politically correct" which IMHO has ruined them.

For those of you who are not acquainted with the works of Enid Blyton see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Famous_Five_(series)

Hilary

Damn. The fog got Cropredy.

Damn. The fog got Cropredy. No more Fairport Convention festivals.

Unpleasant surprise for Adam.

Who will now have to figure something else to call herself. Loved that last line, by the way. Wonderfully evocative about Adam discovering he's now a girl and her reaction to that. With those two words alone I could picture the whole thing.

I won't mention the Vicar and his wife beyond saying I didn't think they would survive, and had things they weren't telling the children they had just 'taken in'.

This very spooky, tense story is one I would highly recommend to anyone who likes thrillers, mysteries, or... oh nuts! Just about anything but romance novels. lol.

Well, At Least

joannebarbarella's picture

The kids got away without any undue trauma. Misguided vicar rather than malevolent one, except for locking poor Adam in the closet.

I'm not sure how Adam survived the Fog but the change seems to happen willy-nilly.

Definitely intriguing and addictive,

Joanne

Willy-Nilly?

You said it, Joanne, and very appropriate it is. Adam is now NIL WILLY without a doubt! :-D :p

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

That's A Gotcha, Gabi!

joannebarbarella's picture

I didn't mean it Mum! Honest!

Joanne

Dear Susan: This is

Dear Susan: This is terrrific! Another one of yout incredible tales. I just now finished reading 1 through 4 and am delighted with the plot to date.
Please keep up the good work. I am certain your other fans will also agree when they find this new offering.