Chapter 11

There was a mutual agreement that everything that we called familiar was likely to be bugged. The Rising Sun, the auditorium, the university, and even our own rented homes. There was no proof, but in times of space aliens, animal-changing technology and evil invasive slug parasites, we couldn't rely on logic to guide us.

So the next time we met, we agreed to go somewhere that no university student would ever dare set foot.

"Three-fifty for a chicken salad?!" Oliver gasped, dropping the package back onto the shelf. "I'm never coming to Waitrose again. What a rip-off."

Needless to say, our shopping basket was empty. We were using it as a ploy to ward off suspecting eyes before we went to the quiet coffee shop to discuss, but all it was doing was giving away the fact the we were just scrubby, tight-fisted students.

"Oh, this is pointless," George grumbled. "Can't we just go sit down?"

"This is where we'll be shopping from now on," Kiani replied. "We aren't poor, money-grubbing layabouts anymore."

Oliver shushed her. "Anybody could be listening."

She rolled her eyes. "Everybody in here her hearing aids. The only things they hear are memories of the fifties."

"Let's just get some coffee." I insisted. There was no point continuing with an empty basket.

We dropped the basket by one of the many cashiers and headed for the far corner of the supermarket. There was a small Waitrose café there, where they did coffees and teas and lunches. It was mostly sandwiches and cakes. Soups, too, for those without teeth. They were popular.

The table tucked away in the corner was perfect for our purposes, so we snapped it up before a middle-aged couple could reach it. I got a funny look from the big balding guy, but they moved on. Oliver took a detour and grabbed today's edition of The Daily Mail.

"Great choice…" Kiani commented without sincerity when he dropped it between us.

"What's the problem?"

She huffed. "Daily Mail? That's what my Dad reads."

Oliver stared at her blankly, and then shrugged. "Congratulations, I guess." He examined the first page, and then turned to the next when the main headline provided no interest.

He was the only one of us not to look a little… different. The shock of earning so much money had clearly not scared us away from dipping into our newfound wealth. I had started using an expensive new perfume, and changed my lipstick. Kiani seemed to glow even more than she used to, and I think it was the make-up that did it, and I suspected she's gotten her hair specially treated. George was wearing a very tight pink shirt. Very tight. It was quality fabric, and that was easy to tell. He had new leather shoes, too. Oliver seemed to be wearing the same clothes he'd worn the last time I'd seen him.

"Anybody done it again?" George asked quietly. He didn't need to clarify.

"No. I don't know if I want to." Kiani said.

I shook my head when he looked at me. "No."

Oliver shook his head, too, eyes still glued to the paper.

George stared at him curiously. "Mate, what are you looking for?"

"Anything." He replied, and left it at that.

"What, you think they're going to put it in the Daily Mail? You're having a laugh."

"Okay then," Oliver dropped the paper. "Then you tell me what we have to look for. They aren't putting on parades, either, you plank."

Kiani put a hand on his arm. "Hey, Oli. Relax."

He rubbed at his temple. "Sorry. I haven't slept."

It wasn't hard to tell. From what I knew of Oliver, he'd never failed to smile on any occasion, be it at a party or a funeral. He was a happy kind of guy, and optimistic, something that he always managed to flood his acting roles with. Now, nothing of that was present. His eyes were baggy, and his posture slumped. For a big, jolly guy, it was hard to watch.

"We need to find what to look for," I suggested. "Or just think about what it is we need to spot."

"Well, we don't know." George shrugged.

Kiani bit her lip and looked down at the table. Then she quickly glanced around behind, and then back at us. "Amy, didn't you mention something about coordinates? Didn't Bert and Isaac give you something?"

I thought about it. Yes, I remembered telling them after our first meeting with the mysterious pair that I'd been given three sets of coordinates. "Yeah, they did," I replied, before reaching into my purse and unzipping a rarely used pocket on the inside. Surely enough, the ruffle of a loose piece of paper came to my fingers. I pinched it between my digits and pulled it out, unfolding it. "This is it. Three places."

Kiani opened her hand to me, and I gave her the paper. She inspected it. "Anybody have a map somewhere?"

"They sell them here, I think," George said. "If not, there' Smith's just down the street."

"Just don't draw attention…" Oliver mentioned coldly.

George got up from the table. His gleaming new shoes came into full view. They suited him well. "I'll go get one. I'm guessing it's around this area."

Kiani got up as well. "Want a coffee? I'm paying."

"Latte, please. Thanks."

"Cappucino." Oliver said, eyes still trailed downwards.

"Same for me, thanks." I said, smiling to her.

George and Kiani left. Oliver wasn't very talkative, so I left him to peruse the national paper. From what I could see, reading upside-down, there was nothing alien-related.

Those big, ugly monsters… Where would they be hiding?

I could have been a pigeon forever!

Was I being watched?

I looked around, snapping my head from right to left, a deep chill over my back like a damp coat. Old ladies nattering on a nearby table. A man in a tweed jacket pushing a half-filled trolley. Two Waitrose workers talking over the nearest cashier.

"What is it?!" Oliver asked, alerted.

"Nothing. Nothing, I just… Don't worry about it."

He was gazing at me, eyes narrowed. "See somebody?"

I shook my head and tried to seek out Kiani. I wanted my hot drink. "No. I'm just jumpy."

I tried to control myself until the others returned, realising that jerking around and watching strangers with wide, panicked eyes wasn't keeping my cards to my chest. I tapped my fingers on my lap and bit compulsively at my lips. No matter who I thought was watching, I wouldn't turn and I wouldn't see. I was just a normal young adult, just out to enjoy just a coffee with friends.

Kiani returned with our drinks, and I heartily indulged. George wasn't far behind, and with him he brought a bright orange booklet. He slapped it down on the table. "Got one."

Oliver flinched as it hit the table. "Want to draw any more attention, mate?"

"Jesus, Oli," George groaned. "Just relax, eh? What's going to draw more attention: Being normal or acting like we're hiding something?"

Oliver shrugged and pushed aside his finished newspaper, giving George the space to open up the densely folded map of the local area. He pulled a small red biro out of his pocket. "Got the co-ords?"

Kiani pushed forward the small crumpled piece of paper, keeping her eyes over George's shoulders. Still nobody hanging around suspiciously, it seemed. George got to work, and I imagined that he was using whatever skills he'd picked up at Scouts no less than five years ago when he'd go orienteering on the moors. I would have absolutely no chance. It was just a vaguely recognisable picture with a numbered border to me.

"Right…" He mumbled over the red pen he'd stuck between his lips. "First one is here, right in the middle of town." He jabbed a finger at a dense collection of buildings surrounded by roads.

"Fore Street," Kiani mentioned. "Which building is that, though?"

"That's Primark," I said. "I thought you'd have known that."

Kiani huffed and gave me a sarcastic smile. "Sure, because I shop at Primark…"

"So they want us to spy on Primark?" Oliver asked incredulously. "Spy on Primark as pigeons and squirrels…"

"I think we have to apply common sense to that one," I suggested. "What else is there?"

George had already begun to search for spot number 2. His precise finger traced upwards from the bottom axis and nestled against a napkin he'd laid to indicate where it crossed the other. "This one here. Looks like the Country Club."

Swimming pools. Spas. A fitness gym and beauty parlour. There was a small golf course, too. The place was popular among the populace of the town, mostly middle and upper class who wanted to spend excess cash. Perhaps I would become more familiar with it soon. The beauty parlour had always enticed me, but the extortionate prices drove me away each time. Not such an issue anymore…

"And number three," George muttered to himself at jotting a red star on the Country Club. He repeated the process again, and this time he was narrowing down on a place not jammed into the middle of a busy town. He arrived at the last set of coordinates. "This place. Anybody recognise that?"

We all hunched in for a closer look. The area on the map was pretty barren, with a small section of woodland surrounded by open land. There didn't seem to be anything distinctive about the place.

"Just looks like a field." Kiani stated, perplexed.

George took his finger away to draw upon the place a red cross. Then he started to consider the surrounding landscape, his eyes straining.

"Ah, that might be why," He said. "It's an Army training ground. The whole area is. Looks to be about… two or three square miles in size."

Oliver was confused. "Just a bunch of fields?"

"It's a shooting range." George explained.

"Probably the one we should use a squirrel for." Kiani suggested.

I nodded. "Or the dog."

"Or we should stick to Primark and the golf course," Oliver groaned. "I know where I'd rather go."

"You're right," George said. "I think Army shooting range is a bit too much. We could go check out Primark. What is it we're looking for again?"

"Unusual activity. Whatever that means." I recalled.

Kiani laughed. "We'll need more than one notebook for that."

"I don't think we should take any notebooks." George said.

"I wasn't being serious, of course."

George sipped from his coffee and began folding away the map. "So how about this… We go to Primark on Tuesday after lectures. While we're there we can separate, maybe do some shopping. We'll take our time and just keep our eyes open for anything strange going on."

"Strange like evil bladed lizard men." Oliver added.

I groaned and covered my eyes with a rubbing hand. "Please, don't even mention that stuff."

George opened his palms to the table. "Does that plan sound good?"

"Half-a-million quid for shopping at Primark," Kiani considered. "Think we could ask them for a payrise?"