Human.4

Now, though, she looked different.

Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparked with life. No longer a disinterested observer, she had come to life.

Anyway, Simon was sitting in the exact same place we’d left him. His hands were folded in his lap and his face was frozen in the same open-mouthed expression as the others.

Lilly touched Simon’s face.

'He’s warm,' she said, moving her fingers to his neck. She held two fingers on the side of his neck, held them there trying to find a pulse, and then she smiled. 'Still alive.'

The relief in her voice was obvious.

I felt a harsh twinge of jealousy. Yeah, I know, not exactly an honorable reaction, and I’m not proud.

'If he’s alive, there’s hope,' I offered, and Lilly’s face brightened.

'But how do we wake them up?' she asked. 'We were the ones who were supposed to be hypnotized . Did it go wrong? Did Danny hypnotize everyone else? Even himself?'

I was going to attempt an answer, when my train of thought was interrupted by a loud wailing sound behind us.

Chapter 8

Mr Peterson had lost it.

Just seriously lost it.

When we got back to the stage we found him on his knees, head in his hands, making the horrible sound we’d heard. His face was red and his cheeks were wet with tears. His head was bowed, revealing a sunburnt bald spot in his graying hair.

Mrs O’Donnell was bent over, trying to comfort him, but he thrashed her away with wild, windmill arms. There was spittle around his lips.

'What happened?' I asked her.

Mrs O’Donnell shook her head.

'I don’t know. He’d stopped the rocking and was sitting there in his seat, looking around. And then this…'

Lilly approached him warily, keeping her distance in case those arms struck out again.

'Mr Peterson?' she asked soothingly. 'Can you tell us what is wrong?'

There was no reply, just an increase in the volume of Mr Peterson’s wailing. A thin, high-pitched noise that sounded more like the voice of Mr Peebles than his own.

Suddenly it hit me: just how much trouble we were in. Everyone on the village green had been inexplicably, completely immobilized, by some force or sickness that we couldn’t guess. Only the four people who’d been hypnotized as part of Danny’s act remained unaffected by the event.

We were alone.

But where did that leave us? What could we do?

'We need to get help,' I said. I turned to Mrs O’Donnell. 'The Happy Shopper is open today—how many people are working there?'

'Just Tony,' she said. 'Tony Jefferson. Shop Manager. Everyone else is here.'

'Let’s go and see how he is,' I said.

***

Mrs O’Donnell tried to get Mr Peterson on to his feet, but he wasn’t having any of it. He just made that horrible wailing sound and then collapsed into tears. They were the kind of tears that made a person’s whole body shake. Mrs O’Donnell couldn’t get close to him without him striking out at her.

'You two go,' she said to Lilly and me. 'Go and see if Tony’s OK. I’ll stay here and make sure Rodney doesn’t do himself any harm.'

'Rodney?'

Mrs O’Donnell pointed to Mr Peterson. I’d known him all my life and never knew his first name.

'Oh,' I said. 'Rodney.'

'And I’m Kate,' Mrs O’Donnell said.

I gave her as close to a smile as I could manage, and nodded my head.

'We’ll be back as soon as we can,' I said.

Lilly and I made our way through the rows of stationary people, across the green, out on to the high street, past the shed, and towards the Happy Shopper.

The high street itself was deserted and strangely quiet. There were no cars driving down the road, which is—like—unheard of on a Saturday afternoon. Millgrove is a common alternative to the main carriageway and there’s always traffic.

We hurried as fast as we could without actually breaking into a jog.

'What’s causing this?' Lilly asked me. 'I mean, something’s got to be doing it.'

'I’m afraid that, in the words of a certain science teacher, “We simply don’t have enough data to form a conclusion.”' I used a rough approximation of Mr Cruikshank’s voice.

Lilly started to laugh, then seemed angry with herself for showing humor in such bizarre circumstances. I thought there might be a large measure of guilt behind it: we were walking around while Simon was frozen to the spot.

'So where do we get more data?' she asked.

I pointed to the bright windows of the shop ahead.

'Here will be a start,' I said.

The Happy Shopper was just like any other Happy Shopper anywhere on the planet.

Except smaller.

Millgrove didn’t do anything big, except maybe that idiot talent show.

I pushed open the advert-papered shop door.

The bell above the door rang. It wasn’t an electric buzzer or beeper; it was a genuine, old-fashioned brass bell.

I walked in with Lilly following close on my heels.

There were two other people in the shop: Tony Jefferson, standing behind the counter, and Eddie Beattie over by the drinks cooler.

Tony had been freeze-framed in the act of refilling one of the displays of Wrigley’s gum that stood on the counter, strategically placed for those last-minute buys.

Eddie Beattie was choosing a can of high-impact cider from the fridge, and he looked like he’d just made up his mind and was reaching towards a shelf in the cooler when…

When whatever happened, happened.

Up until that moment I had been thinking that the state of the people on the green had something to do with Danny and his hypnosis. I know it wasn’t a likely idea, but it was a lot more comforting than any other I could come up with.

But Tony and Eddie hadn’t been present at the green.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t restricted to the talent show audience.

'Is it just Millgrove?' Lilly’s voice quavered. 'Or is it the whole world?'

I shook my head.

'There’s only one way to find out,' I said.

I popped the catch on the shop counter, just like I’d seen the staff do for years, and I lifted the flap that let me in. I ignored Tony, located the radio he kept behind there, flicked the power button and turned up the volume.

A harsh shriek of static tore through the still air.

'Sorry,' I said, turning the volume down a few notches so the noise didn’t quite