The Trojan Project

Chapter One

Chapter OneSarah had worried about her husband all evening. After putting the children to bed, she paced up and down the kitchen floor, growing more concerned with each passing minute.

Glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time, she wondered where he could be. What was keeping him so late? Pete always made a point of being home in time to read a bedtime story to their two young daughters. Four-year-old Josie and little Becky, half her age, looked forward to it and nothing short of an emergency could keep him away.

But this evening Sarah had even more reason for concern. As Pete believed her to be spending the night with her friend in Alnwick after a trip to the theatre, he should have collected the children from Laura, the wife of one of his farmhands, several hours ago.

As it turned out, Josie had awoken that morning with a sore throat. Though a dose of throat syrup seemed to cure it, Sarah cancelled her arrangements for fear of it recurring. But Pete wasn't aware of the change of plan. When she had tried to reach him on his mobile, she couldn't get through.

At first she hadn't been too worried: the Cheviot Hills were probably blocking the signal. Besides, Laura would explain what had happened when he arrived to pick up the children. But Pete had never turned up. Nor had he rung Laura to tell her why he was late.

Sarah telephoned Laura several times during the early evening, desperately hoping she might have news of why Pete had been delayed, but the answer was always the same.

“I'm sorry, Sarah, I haven't heard from Pete. But I promise to call you the moment I hear anything at all.”

Something had happened. Sarah was sure of it. She knew Pete wouldn't simply leave his children with Laura without calling her first. Feeling helpless, she sat by the phone almost willing it to ring – yet it remained silent. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she rang Laura again. Dave, Laura's husband, should be home by now; it was possible he might know Pete's whereabouts. Laura sadly, had no words of comfort, in fact quite the opposite.

“Sarah, now I'm worried. Dave hasn't come home either. I understood he was working around the lower fields today. Could there have been a change of plan?”

Assuring her she didn't know of any changes to her husband's arrangements, Sarah hung up. She decided not to ring again. Laura obviously had problems of her own.

She switched on the television and sat down, only to stand up a few minutes later, the sound and picture nothing more than insignificant backdrops to her sense of worry. She paced the floor again, pausing only for a moment to straighten a picture on the wall. Glancing at the clock, she checked the time against her watch. It was no good, she couldn't simply sit here; she had to do something.

Turning off the television, she looked into the children's bedroom. They were still sleeping soundly. It was likely they wouldn't wake before morning. They always slept right through the night. It would be quite safe to leave them for a few minutes while she walked down the drive to the farm gates. From there she would see the headlights of Pete's truck when he swung into the lane.

Outside, the air felt warm against her face. The long hot summer, reluctant to make way for autumn, was lingering on. Overhead, the night sky was clear and the stars glittered in the heavens like large diamonds. It was a perfect evening. The kind of evening her and Pete enjoyed spending together on the porch.

Tonight though, Sarah was too worried about her husband to notice anything. Pete would never be this late unless one of the animals was in distress. Desperate to find an explanation, she wondered whether that might be the reason why he was late tonight. But then she dismissed it; he would have called Laura to tell her.

Sarah knew Pete had gone to check the sheep on Top Meadow, a beautiful green pasture high up on one of the hills on the far side of the valley. Taking his two working dogs, he had set out early that morning, intending to pick up a couple of farmhands on the way. She tapped her foot nervously on the gravel. They should have been back hours ago. Why wasn't he here?

Standing there by the farm gate in the darkness, she suddenly became aware that the animals were restless. They were stamping their feet and making strange sounds; something was troubling them.

She listened hard. Was it a beast – a fox, perhaps? Only recently a neighboring farm had lost several sheep to a fox. Though she couldn't hear anything, the thought of something out there disturbed her, and despite the warm evening she shivered and pulled her jacket tightly around her. If only Pete were here he would know what to do.

Looking down into the valley, she felt reassured by the warm glow of light coming from the farm cottages. Everything seemed normal down there. Surely if there was something wrong, the farmhands would know about it? Many came from a long line of farming families, and knew instinctively when trouble was lurking.

She looked down at the old collie by her side. “I'm imagining things, Betts,” she murmured.

But when the dog began to growl softly, Sarah's fears returned. Bending down to place a restraining hand on Betts's collar, she was further alarmed to find the hairs on the dog's neck were bristled.

“What is it, old girl? What's out there?”

She strained her eyes against the darkness, but was unable to see anything. For one brief moment she toyed with the idea of going back to the house for Pete's gun. A shot into the air might drive away whatever was worrying the animals. But that was all she could do. She might be a farmer's wife, but she had never been a farmer's daughter. Having been brought up in one of the most exclusive areas in London, she didn't have the stomach to kill anything. She knew even Pete was loath to shoot any animal unless he believed it was absolutely necessary.

She scanned the lane again, desperately trying to pick out the headlights of her husband's truck. But only blackness stretched before her. Surely he wouldn't be much longer?

Feeling very alone, she allowed her mind to drift back to the time before her marriage. Her parents had warned her that by marrying a farmer, she would be left on her own most of the day.

“Farming is a hard life, especially for a girl brought up in the City with all the luxuries it has to offer,” they had told her. “There will always be crops or some sick animal to see to. That's not for you, Sarah. A farmer's wife needs to be born into that kind of life.”

Her father, Sir Charles Hammond, being an eminent government scientist, had been in a position to send his only child to the very best of schools. As she was fluent in three languages, her parents had encouraged her to become a diplomat.

Ronald Woods, her mother's brother, held the post of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. Occasionally, while on various assignments around the world, she had accompanied him as his interpreter. But though she enjoyed working with her uncle, she had never considered taking on such a role permanently. Continually flitting from one boring meeting to another didn't appeal to her.

A few years ago her parents, especially her mother, Irene, had been keen for her to marry Rick Armstrong, a young colleague of her father's. His excellent prospects made him a suitable son-in-law.

“He has a brilliant mind,” her father had said on more than one occasion. “Though a little impetuous at times, he'll go a long way. He has a great deal to offer a wife.”

To please them, she had accompanied Rick to several functions. But though she found him witty and charming, she could never envisage spending the rest of her life with him. Then quite out of the blue, while attending a charity dance with Rick, she had met Pete Maine.

Her eyes had been drawn to the tall, young man standing alone in one corner of the ballroom. Constantly straightening his tie and flicking non-existent fluff from his jacket, he looked rather shy and ill at ease, almost as though he would rather be somewhere else. Her eyes had lingered on him for a few minutes, trying to remember whether she might have seen him at another recent gathering. But no, she wouldn't have forgotten such a striking young man.

Later that evening, as she and Rick passed by him, Pete gave her a boyish grin. His brown eyes, almost the colour of his hair, were warm and friendly. Though she smiled back, neither said a word. However, when Rick disappeared to the bar to order drinks, he had sought her out.

While they danced, Pete told her he was a farmer, having inherited Hillsdown Farm in Northumberland from his grandfather. “I don't like the city. I'm only here at my brother's insistence.” He laughed. “He thinks I need a break.”

His enthusiasm for the farm fascinated her. He wasn't just a farmer at all – he was a man of ideals and principles, who felt responsible for the men who worked for him and the animals he reared.

When the dance ended, he began to escort her back to where Rick waited. But on the spur of the moment, he changed direction and led her into the garden. “Sarah, I know that you and I together could make the farm work.”

She had been rather taken aback. How could he make such a judgment, having only just met her? “You don't know anything about me and I know nothing of farming,” she had uttered.

It was true. Until a few moments ago, she had never given a thought to where food came from or how it was produced. As far as she was concerned, it was delivered to the house on a regular basis from Harrods.

But taking her hands in his, Pete had spoken earnestly, assuring her he knew everything he needed to know. “As soon as I saw you, I wanted you to be my wife.”

Strangely enough, she found herself attracted to him and agreed to meet him the following day. After several dates, all within the space of a week, she couldn't imagine life without him and they were married after a whirlwind romance. Looking back now, it seemed like a fairy tale. Things like that didn't happen in the real world. She recalled that her parents had been quite alarmed. But Pete quickly charmed them with his sense of humour and kindness.

Rick's attitude, in total contrast, had been quite different. She knew he loved her; he had never made a secret of it, yet she had never given him any reason to assume she felt the same about him. There had always been something about him…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted, when she believed she saw the lights of a car in the distance and for a few brief moments her spirits lifted. But the light was too small. It was probably someone with a torch checking out the animals in the valley. She sighed, as she bent down and stroked Betts's head. “No, it's not him yet, old girl.”

She turned her thoughts back to Rick. His reaction to her engagement had been alarming. He told her she was foolishly throwing her life away.

“What has he to offer a girl like you?” he had roared. “With me you could have everything. Parties, holidays, clothes – a wonderful life could be yours for the taking. Instead you're marrying some farmer and going to live in the middle of nowhere. Why, for God's sake? I don't understand! Explain it to me.”

Taking her hands in his, he had squeezed them so tightly her fingers turned white. “Don't you see? You'll be tied to the kitchen sink – these hands are made for diamond rings, not farm work.”

Laughing nervously, she had pulled away from him. “It won't be like that at all, Rick. I love Pete and want to be with him.”

“Then so be it!” he yelled, before striding down the hall. “Don't say I didn't warn you.”

Still gazing down the lane, Sarah rubbed her fingers. Even now, some five years later, she could feel Rick's hands crushing her own.

It was on her wedding day when she had next seen him. Calling at the house, he had grasped her arms and shaken her so violently, she almost called out for her father.

“Why, Sarah?” he asked, harshly. “You'll be an old woman before your time. You're not cut out to be a farmer's wife. You'll miss the bright lights of city life. You were born to be with me. This should be our wedding day.” Then suddenly he let her go. “Mark my words you'll regret it.” And he was gone.

But Rick couldn't have been more wrong; she had never regretted a moment. She loved Pete and enjoyed her life up here in the north of England. The farmhouse was set high up on one of a range of hills that surrounded the lush green valley below. She delighted in the magnificent views from the windows and the fresh, sweet smell of clean air that greeted her every morning. It was a far cry from the noisy, traffic-congested streets of London.

She still saw Rick occasionally when she visited her parents. Then four months ago, quite unexpectedly, Rick had called at the farm. He explained he was in the area on business. She recalled thinking it strange he should have work so far away from London. Had it simply been an excuse to see her?

The last time she saw him was about a month ago, when she and the children were staying in London. He had called to discuss something with her father, but Irene invited him to stay for dinner. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Sarah, he disappeared into Charles's study.

Shortly afterwards, both she and Irene had heard raised voices. Though they couldn't make out what was being said, it was clear that the two men were arguing fiercely. Rick emerged from the study red-faced and very angry, before leaving the house without a word.

Afterwards, Charles made several telephone calls before joining them for dinner. He wouldn't be drawn on Rick's rapid departure, even though her mother mentioned it casually in conversation. Nevertheless, Sarah hadn't failed to notice her father's agitation during the evening.

Sarah's thoughts were interrupted again when Betts's growl grew louder. Still holding the dog's collar, she opened the gate and stepped out into the lane. Betts began to bark loudly and tugged to be free. Feeling even more afraid, she tightened her hold on the dog's collar and started to make her way back to the farmhouse. Then, seeing a glimmer of light in the distance, she hesitated.

Could this be Pete? Betts pulled to be free and she loosened her grip. Watching the dog run down the lane, Sarah almost cried with relief. It must be Pete's truck; it had to be. At last her husband was home. But as Betts returned whimpering, her doubts flooded back.

Looking closer, she saw that the light had changed to a sickly green colour and wasn't in the lane at all. It was rising from beyond the hills and appeared to be growing larger and brighter by the second. She had never seen anything like it before. Slowly it began to climb into the night sky. “Oh, my God! What on earth is that?” she screamed…

* * *

Bewildered, Sarah couldn't recall how long she had stood by the farmhouse door. Since the light had disappeared, a heavy silence had fallen over the valley. It was too quiet, even a slight sound would have helped to reassure her. She was about to enter the house when she saw a movement in the sky.

“Please – not again,” she murmured to herself.

Peering through the darkness, she wondered whether the light was returning, but then she saw a strange cloud – a sort of mist. It was the same bright green colour as the ball of light. A cold shiver ran down her back as the cloud silently unfolded like a thick blanket over the valley. Within a few minutes, none of the cottages could be seen through the dense fog. Yet surprisingly, the sky above the farmhouse and the surrounding fields remained quite clear.

Sarah could take no more: her legs began to give way beneath her and she gripped the doorframe for support. Glancing across the farmyard towards the fields nearest to the house, she could pick out the familiar shapes of the cows. But there was something wrong. What was it?

Then, she realized there was no movement. Though they were all on their feet, not one cow was moving. She swallowed hard. Why the hell weren't they moving?

Breathing deeply to stop herself from fainting, she called Betts and staggered into the farmhouse. Slamming the door shut, she pushed home the bolts. Safely inside the house, she slumped into one of the chairs. Tears rolled down her cheeks. What was going on? Where was Pete? What was the green light in the sky? Then there was that thick cloud – and the animals. What was wrong with the animals? Unanswered questions raced through her mind.

Wiping her eyes, she climbed the stairs and crept into the children's bedroom. Mercifully they were still sleeping, blissfully unaware of what had happened. Noticing Josie's teddy bear had fallen to the floor, she lifted the covers and placed it in the bed next to her daughter. It was Josie's favorite toy. She would be upset if it wasn't in her bed when she awoke.

For one brief moment, she thought of waking the children and going in search of Pete, but then thought better of it. No! That was a stupid idea. It would only alarm them. It would be best to wait until morning.

Besides, Pete could arrive home any minute now. Seeing the strange light in the sky, he would abandon whatever he was doing and go to Laura and Dave's for his children. Dave – was he home yet? Moving over to the window, she stared out across the fields to where she had first seen the glow of light. But the light had gone and there was nothing there now – nothing except the strange cloud still enveloping the valley and the distant hills.

Looking closer, she noticed it had now turned a brighter green. What was the cloud? And where had the light come from? Nothing lay beyond the hills except a reservoir and the dam. Further on, there were only more farms and a couple of small villages and somewhere in between stood an old power station. But nothing went on there anymore. It had been closed down when the new one opened over a year ago. Now the grounds were patrolled by security staff as there was still some equipment awaiting removal. Once that was cleared, the old building would be boarded up and sold off.

Just as she moved away from the window, some lights in the distance caught her eye. Could this be Pete's truck? For a moment, she felt a weight was being lifted from her. But her hopes were dashed when she realized the lights were too small to be car headlights. It was probably still the farmhands using torches, while they checked out the livestock. Nevertheless, she felt a little reassured. With so many people about, it must mean that everyone in the valley was safe.

But the cloud continued to cast a sinister glow over the valley and Sarah swept the curtains tightly together to block it out. A feeling of utter despair fell upon her and she began to tremble as fear welled up inside her stomach. The events of the evening had caught up with her. If only Pete were to come home, everything would be all right again.

Shaking violently, she stumbled across to the small sofa in the corner of the children's bedroom, deciding to spend the night there. The large empty bed she shared with Pete seemed cold and uninviting. She pulled her knees up to her chin, curling herself into a tight ball in a futile effort to shut out her fears.

Pete's disappearance stirred up long forgotten memories of a similar occasion. She was a little girl again, excitedly waiting for her father to return from work. She wanted to show him something she had made at school. But he'd been late, just as Pete was now. Laughing, her mother told her that 'Daddy was busy at work and he would see it the next morning.'

However, during the night, she had woken to hear her mother talking on the telephone. “I'm worried; he's never this late. For goodness sake, do something. I want to know what's happened to my husband.”

Sarah recalled how she had lain in bed trembling with fear as she listened to her mother's voice. Believing something awful had happened to her father, she had curled herself into a tight ball, just as she was doing now.

Of course her father was at breakfast the next morning. Absorbed in his work at the laboratory, he had simply lost all track of time. Sarah had never forgotten it and tonight history seemed to be repeating itself. Josie had been waiting anxiously to show Pete a picture she had drawn with her new crayons and Sarah had told her that, 'Daddy would be home soon.'

Back in London, all those years ago, Sarah's mother had been able to telephone the laboratory to find out what had happened to her husband. If they hadn't found him, she would have called Scotland Yard and insisted the whole of the Metropolitan Police force should begin a search.

Out here it was different. There was no one to call. The nearest police station was some miles away in Wooler, and even then it was only an annex of Sergeant Gilmore's house. With Mrs. Gilmore frowning on anyone who called her husband in the middle of the night for anything less than a murder, Sarah's only real option was to lie awake and listen for Pete's truck turning into the lane. But though she tried hard to stay awake, tiredness soon overcame her.

She fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming Pete was in danger of falling into a deep black hole. Clinging onto the sides, he screamed frantically to her for help as he was sucked downwards.

Still dreaming, Sarah saw herself reaching out for him. But though she hung over the edge of the hole and stretched out her arms, she couldn't quite reach him.

“Please help us!” she cried out to a strangely familiar figure in the shadows. But the figure merely turned away.