Disclaimer: I do not own any of the GNMT characters or their stories. All characters in this fanfict are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental!

The Threat Of Tomorrow

The English Prime Minister, Garry Michaels, stood before the microphone at 10 Downing Street , his face drawn and pale. He looked sick, many noted, as they sat before their TV screens and looked attentively at the Emergency Broadcast that had interrupted all stations out of the blue. Something had obviously happened. The man coughed and took a quick drink of water from the glass in arms reach of him, then looked dead at the camera.

"People of Britain, I am afraid to tell you that discussions between us and them have deteriorated. The EU's attempts to reach them and discus the arms threat has failed, and a note arrived today announcing the final decision. It shames me to have to tell you that we are going to war once more. The Allies shall untie again, stronger and smarter than ever before. America and Germany have promised to join us in due course. As Sir Winston Churchill once said: 'We shall fight in the fields and in the streets. We shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!' And the Allies shall not lose, not while we have our courage, strength, and--"

"Unoriginal fool," Andrew muttered, turning the TV off without a moment's hesitation. Lingering by her bedroom door, Amy bit back a complaint – if Andrew didn't want to watch the Prime Minister's speech then she didn't need to watch it either. She'd learnt that long ago. "Now, where is my briefcase? Amy! Have you seen... Oh nope, here it is!"

"So...does this mean England's going to war?" Amy asked apprehensively, watching as her stepfather dug his briefcase out from underneath a mountain of papers on his desk.

"Yes," Andrew sighed irritably, rushing around the flat like a madman. "United Europe and America... You name it, honey, everyone will get dragged into this war." He looked up at her and smiled sadly. "We've been born into the Third World War, Amy. You'd better get used to that fact."

Amy felt her knees go weak. Another World War! But...that wasn't possible, was it? Surely everything was all right? She immediately thought of Liam, worrying about him suddenly. She didn't want her brother to be hurt!

"London'll probably be bombed," Andrew commented, like he was discussing nothing more interesting than the weather. "Government's already decided to put up evacuation rubbish out – it was in the papers this morning. That'll mean I'll be home alone for a while."

"You mean I'm going to have to leave London?" Amy gasped, as Andrew headed for the door. He stopped besides her, then kissed her on the forehead. "You mean I'm going to have to leave like all those World War Two kids?"

"I'm afraid so, Amy." Andrew hesitated, then said quietly. "I'm...I'm sorry about hitting you last week. Maybe the belt was a little too strong a punishment for you - I just don't want to see you in trouble; not my little girl. Sorry?"

Amy took a deep breath, wanting to tell him where to put his apology. Instead she smiled weakly, nodding. "It's all right. I'm sorry I got you in a bad mood." God, she sounded like her mother!

But Andrew looked pleased by her words. "Good. We'll you've got to get a move on, Amy, or else you'll miss the school bus." He glanced at his wrist watch and cursed fluently. "If I don't move it I'll miss my train! See you later, love!"

Bastard! Amy thought, watching her stepfather leave the house, then turned back into her bedroom. Posters of her favourite bands covered the walls, and her cuddly toys lay in a pile besides her bed. Glancing in her mirror, Amy ran her fingers once more through her curly hair, then grabbed her eye-liner once more. Just a little more won't hurt, she told herself, drowning her eyes in black. The half-dead look was still in, and her skinny fits lay drying on the radiator. School uniform did not permit or like the Emo style.

As Amy locked the flat door behind her, she heard the sound of the school bus beeping outside. She ran down the stairwell, jumping the last three steps as she hurried out into the lobby, waving cheerfully at a neighbour as he passed her in the other direction.

"Morning, Amy," he called, balancing bags of shopping. "Heard the terrible news?"

Amy nodded, then hurried on out into the street. But as she passed the door she nearly knocked over a man with a pot of glue and a paint brush. He glared at her, cursing, refusing to hear her gabbled apologies. He moved away, carrying a pile of papers under his arm, and Amy turned to look at the sign he'd just put up outside the block of flats where she lived, besides the sign that read, Malling Heights. What the girl saw made her blood run cold.

GOVERNMENT

EVACUATION SCHEME

The Government have ordered evacuation of registered school children. If your children are registered, visit their assembly point at once and read the instructions on the notice board. Posters notifying arrival will be displayed at the schools at which the children assemble for evacuation. Ages 4 to 18 must contact immediately. Evacuation will save your children from any bombings that may occur in the cities during the time of war.

FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE PROVIDED IN DUE COURSE.

"Amy!" The shout from her bus driver shook Amy out of her shocked state. "Hurry up, girl, or we'll get smelled up in the traffic!"

This can't be happening! Amy thought desperately. This is so stupid! But life still went on, school awaited her, and Amy turned and quickly leapt onto the waiting school bus.

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Three Weeks Later...

There are two members in the chatroom: Liam/Amy

Liam: Nah we haven't got those posters up here – this dump's stuck out in the middle of nowhere! No one would want to bomb this place cos there's nothing here. Just this crappy school.

Amy: But I'm talking about London, Liam! I'm going to be evacuated! The headmistress gave us an Emergency assembly about it yesterday, and we've been told that we've got to be out of London by the 14th!

Liam: Know where you're off to yet? Oh, go on, you know you want to tell me!

Amy: Andrew's got the letter at the moment. I haven't seen it yet.

Liam: Typical gimp! God, there is nothing to do out here! Did you hear what that gimp did?

Amy: No, what happened?

Liam: Andrew called up his brother – you know, that old fossil that runs this PRISON! Well, he rang up and said I was back on cigarettes, AND I'VE BEEN BANED FROM GOING INTO THE VILLAGE! Mr Barrings says I'm to cool off for a month, and I had to take confession.

Amy: It isn't that bad. A month can't be that long.

Liam: It is! Anyhow, when are you off? Have you got your ticket yet?

Amy: 'I don't know' to the first question, and 'no' to the latter.

Liam: Man, that stinks! Everything stinks! Even my ROOM stinks! Oh no wait, that's me! ; )

Amy: Ew! I didn't need to know that! Where did you go after Mum's funeral?

Liam: To a friend's house. He lived near by, so I popped in there. It's no biggy, Amy. Please change subject.

Amy: Have you heard from Dad lately?

Liam: Change subject.

Amy: Fine! I wish I could be evacuated out with you. Barrings Estate sounds better than here!

Liam: You don't want to be, seriously! It's a dump! And they try to force religion on you like it's going out of fashion or something! Mr Barrings is almost as bad as Andrew is, and Andrew is an evil fanatic!

Amy: At least Mr Barrings doesn't hit you.

Liam: I suppose not. He just bans us from TV and radio, going into town – that kind of stuff. Has Andrew started hitting you again?

Amy: Yes. I thought he'd calmed down after you left, but after Mum died he just lost it again. He says she went to hell, and that I'm going to follow her unless he doesn't stop me.

Liam: He's a screwball! Look, I've gotta go now, Amy – confession AGAIN! Talk to you soon, right? If it gets too bad, just run. I wish I had.

Liam has signed off.

Amy: I wish I could.

Amy has signed off.

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