New Age

A Davidson Michael

Description

The New Age is a gritty post-apocalyptic tale set in Britain, which focuses on human origins and consciousness.

Sujets

• Science fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 28 août 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528954273
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

The New Age
Michael A Davidson
Austin Macauley Publishers
2018-04-05
The New Age About the Author Dedications Copyright Information © Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Epilogue
About the Author
Michael was born in Mile End hospital on September 8th, 1985. He grew up in the East End of London, where he was constantly into mischief, often taking his friends on dangerous adventures on the debris of the Isle of Dogs. He knew from a very young age that he wanted to be a writer and was inspired to be one by his old primary school teacher, Sarah. He is now a father of two children, a daughter, Callie-mae, and a son, River. Michael is a massive boxing fan and his favourite food is the traditional East London pie and mash.
Dedications
For Belle Rosie Davidson, may you ring out for eternity
Copyright Information ©
Michael A Davidson (2020)
The right of Michael A Davidson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788482363 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781788482370 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528954273 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Prologue
Complacency; complacency is what would define the current age of mankind’s society, it was easier to look into a device and engross yourself in the lives of others than it was to live a life for oneself and that was precisely why America, the so-called great US of A succumbed within a day, within twelve hours.
People will say nothing could have prepared them for what had happened but the ignorance of people could surely be labelled with the blame. A report had surfaced, at a great personal cost, and yet the words of warning were not heeded, for this America burned with destruction from which very few, if any, would survive.
It was now Britain’s turn but they had half-listened to what their transatlantic cousins did not.
It was General Handoff Garland, who was in all correct terms, the newly appointed Chief of the Defence Staff, military advisor to the secretary of state for defence and the Prime Minister, who had received the warning from an unknown US army source; it was a desperate warning and one of which niggled at Garland and one which he acted on, all be it just too late for the government officials visiting in the US but for those in the United Kingdom, he would give them a fighting chance.
The eye of the enemy, which had quickly descended upon the US, now cast its gaze upon the United Kingdom, other countries had already confirmed contact with detachments of the invaders, yet General Garland, a short burly man, knew he had to focus on his home countries, the rest of the world were on their own for now, there could be no united defence, each continent was cut-off and each country being broken into submission.
General Garland had just moments ago burst into the main headquarters, where United Kingdom’s defence was to be actioned, an innumerable amount of military members were hectic, running to and fro from their various tasks.
“Sir, they’re breaking through the atmosphere,” shouted a small, short-haired technician, sat at a massive console.
“Get me a coms-link with the Prime Minister,” Garland shouted back towards the small tech, who nodded and turned to his console.
The burly General turned and called out across the command post, “Burkly.”
A young man talking frantically to a woman sat at another console looked towards him, “Yes, sir.”
“Get all our birds off the ground, orders are to engage all enemy fighters, concentrating main fire on the Mothership.”
The soldier named Burkly acknowledged, spoke quickly to the woman and ran out of the command post.
“Sir,” the General turned towards the small technician, “I have your coms-link.”
Without speaking, the General immediately rushed over to the small tech and snatched the receiver out of his outstretched skinny hand, “Smith,” the General spoke to the skinny tech who looked up at the Burly General, “confirm our troops are in their positions.”
The General now turned away and placed the receiver to his ear, “Prime Minister.”
“What is it, General?” spoke a weary, ill-sounding voice on the other end.
“I need the access code to all our warheads including the IBs,” the seriousness in the General’s voice was crystal clear.
“They’ve deployed their fighters, sir, both air and ground,” shouted out a far-off officer making the command post freeze momentarily, the General with more urgency spoke again into the receiver.
“Prime Minister, I need your code now,” he demanded to the silence on the other line.
“General, I thought you said the IBs are unstable.”
“Regardless, you saw what happened to America; we cannot let that happen here.”
“Sir, six enemy fighters have broken away from the main group and are en route to Downing Street,” shouted out the same officer, this time the General showed no recognition and spoke into the receiver.
“Prime Minister, with all due respect before you die, can you please give me that code.”
A brief pause followed by the weary, ill-voice of the Prime Minister which stuttered, “Okay, the code is…” the General waved a finger at the small tech named Smith, “Tango, Zulu, Alpha, Whiskey, Niner, Fife, Tree, Two, Wun, Alpha, Charlie, Juliet, Tango, Foxtrot, Alpha, Echo.”
“Thank you, Prime Minister, you may have just saved us,” the General looked towards technician Smith who held his right thumb up.
“Good luck, General, and God speed.” Just as the Prime Minister finished, the line crackled dead, the General slowly lowered the receiver knowing that he was now the most senior leader in the United Kingdom.
“Sir, Downing Street has been destroyed,” shouted out the officer.
“Okay, Smith, did you get that code?” the General knew this was no time for mourning, this was time to survive.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, enter it. Burkly, where are our fighters?” the young-looking soldier known as Burkly reappeared as if out of nowhere.
“Just passing over East London, sir.”
“Okay, order them to engage, then in approximately five minutes to disengage pull back, we need to keep the enemy clustered and Burkly, launch the IBs directly at that Mothership, following that up with all the Reaper’s we have.”
Burkly nodded in reply, forgetting formalities and knowing that the General of the army would not care and started off towards the woman he had been talking to; after a brief exchange of words, he shouted back across the command post towards the General.
“All Reaper’s and IBs launched, sir.”
General Garland nodded as all eyes in the command post rested upon him.
“God help those on the streets,” the General spoke aloud to himself.
*
“COME ON, CASEY!” shouted a well-built male in his early-twenties over the heads and roar of the frantic crowd towards his younger, yet taller brother. “KEEP UP, WILL YOU!”
“I’M BLOODY TRYIN’!” Casey, who was now at his older, well-built brother’s side, shouted over the screams as the two ran side-by-side towards their family home.
“YOU SURE THEY’RE GONNA BE THERE?” shouted the older brother, as Casey led them weaving in and out of the frantic, fear-filled crowd.
“YES, DAN, I ALREADY TOLD YA, THE OLD MAN SAID TO GET MUM AN’ MEET HIM OUTSIDE THE CITY,” Casey shouted again to his older brother, as the two now began to slow due to the crowd growing in density.
“OKAY, OKAY, JUST KEEP MOVING,” Dan called back, as Casey began shoving men and women out of the way.
“I’M TRYIN,’ BUT YA MIGHT NOT HAVE NOTICED SOMETHING IS IN MY WAY,” the sarcasm had not registered in Dan’s mind as it was now drawn to the sight above – red and dark-grey clouds spitting flames.
“THEY’RE ENTERING THE ATMOSPHERE,” Dan shouted to the attention of Casey, who took a quick glance.
“GOOD THING WE’RE NEARLY THERE THEN.”
The two brothers having finally pushed their way off the main road and onto an uphill street, increased their pace to a flat-out sprint, within forty seconds the two were banging on the number eight, white metal door of their family home.
As soon as the white metal door swung open, the two brothers rushed in, slamming it shut behind themselves.
“Thank God, you’re finally here,” spoke a light-brown skinned woman.
“It looks like God ain’t ’ere no more, Mum,” Casey spoke back as the three of them entered the living room, which was painted flame-red with light wooden flooring.
“Where’s your father?” their mother asked.
“He’s gone to get Taylor and Lucan, we ‘ave ta meet ’em. We better move ’cause we’re running outta’ time.”
Casey spoke moving to a young boy, “Eh, little man,” Casey sat next to the boy, who had his knees pulled up against his chest on a black leather settee.
“What do you mean we’re running out of time?” the brothers’ mother asked.
Dan was the one who stepped forward speaking, “What he means is that they are entering the atmosphere!” He pulled back the big curtains revealing the scene outside, a sc