Copyright © 2011 by John P Smith. All rights reserved   
                                                                                                         Chapter One
Tonight, they were impatient and restless. Tonight, they had a new leader, a leader whom had just been given influence over them, and a leader who will give them a new way of existence, a new way of life.
World war 111 was approaching, but not fast enough, it was well behind schedule, so to speed up the approach, new authority was specified to him, who, up till now was the deceiver of man. Now his authority had been extended to include vermin. The mischievous sprite had learnt that the way to converse with rats was by ultrasound vocalization. This was a new tool, a new weapon, God had handed to the devil, Or Satan, or the deceiver of man, or the mischievous sprite. They were all one of the same. The deceiver of man was pleased, his new army he had been given power over, was enormous and strong, although his new army was almost world wide, Antarctica was the only place they had no base. In Gt. Britain, sorry, did I say Gt. well it was great once, but now, In Britain, his new army was 81 million strong, and growing all the time, that means they outnumber  humans. In London, its 1.4 rats = one human. The deceiver of men’s army was on the increase growing all time, at a distressing tempo.
It was the fault of the British Government, and their crazy dangerous addiction, for building more and more houses, (which only wealthy people could afford anyway), on fields and woodlands, which drove the rats into people’s gardens, in the first place. Where they had to build new nests, wherever they could, in garden sheds, underneath garden decking, in drains and not to mention nice damp sewers. Of course, here they found a new food supply, which they would never have found thirty years ago. Thirty years ago when local councils had a hell of a lot more sense than they have now, people would put out their rubbish in metal dust bins, and once a week the rubbish cart would come and empty them. This kept the rotting food safe, and the rats out. However, of course now thanks to our councils, whom it seems, over the years have become more and more unintelligent, we put out rotten food in black plastic bags, and if you are lucky, they will collect them once a fortnight. This is of course is very good news for the rats, who rip open the bags, eat all they want, and make a hell of a mess, for our brainless council to clear up, a mess of the councils own making. This means the rats are growing in size, most of them grow to be 25 cm in length and weight about 12 oz, and take into account a female rat has about five litters a year and each one can live well for up to 3 years, this was going to be a fantastic army. Up until now, a nest of rats kept themselves to themselves, perhaps only hunting for food in a 30 meters area of their own nest. Now for the first they were hearing a new ultrasound sound wave, it told them they must unite, they must join forces, and they must be as one, and they must fight as one, and die as one. The army was assembling; it was communicating, for the first time with other nests.
                                                                                                   

                                                                                                         Chapter Two
                                                                                                     A restless night?

"Sam, Sam, wake up,” it was the poke in the ribs, which woke me, and not the sound of my wife’s Tammy’s voice. “What” I asked, “what do you want?” “Listen, do you hear that?” she asked, now half sitting up in bed. Tammy had switched on her bedside light, and for a moment I could not see anything, when my tired eyes grew used to the light, I could make out Tammy half sitting up in bed; her left breast had escaped from the confines of her nightdress her nipple was standing erect, waiting to be kissed. I made a move towards it, “no stop it” she said, pushing my head away with her hand, “listen,” I listened but heard nothing. “What are we listening for?” I began, “Schuss, listen there it is again” this time I heard it, a pattering of feet, and a scampering of more than one set of feet, hell an army of feet, Where all scattering this way and that, all above our heads. I also sat up and listened, whatever it was up in the attic, maybe a trapped bird, or a mouse, maybe. Tammy had made up her mind, “tomorrow” she said “you go up in the loft and find out what’s up there ok Sam?” but I had already lay back down and gone back to sleep by then. Hell I never seemed to get enough sleep these days anyway, and here, in the middle of the night was Tammy talking about going up in the Goddamn loft.
My Alarm woke me at 07.30 Tammy was up and gone, as I found out when I reached out my hand to molest her warm soft body, and found an empty bed beside me. I did the only thing I could; I got up showered, shaved and dressed and went down the stairs to meet the day. “Nice of you to join us Sam” is what I was greeted with, when I walked into the kitchen, that day. The fact I was up half the night writing my new novel cut no ice with that dear wife of mine. “How are you Tammy? “Is all I could manage? “Sam I’ve got to go to work now, someone around here has to earn some money you know, and if its not you it has to be me. So goodbye, see you tonight, and oh Sam whatever you do don’t forget to go up in the loft and get rid of whatever it is that’s up there, ok?” She was then gone I heard the slamming of the front door and sat back with a sigh of relief. I could still hear her words, “don’t forget to go up in the loft and get rid of whatever there is up there.” How could I get rid of something when I did not know what it was, that I had to get rid of. But before I sat down at my computer, to carry on writing my next best seller, I could not rest until I got the step ladder out of the garage, took it up stairs put it under the trap door and climbed it until my hands pushed open the trap door. All was still and motionless, all was dark, I flicked on the switch, and the loft was flooded with brightness. Gradually I climbed up higher; from here I was still standing on the stepladder, but also had a good view of the whole loft. I looked all around and, nothing, just old boxes full with useless items, why was Tammy keeping this junk anyway. That is what I wanted to know. I took one final look round, saw nothing climbed down the stepladder switched off the light, and returned the steps to the garage. I had just sat down on my computer, logged on and that is when the phone rang. Hello Mr. Hall?” asked a weird voice, maybe from half way round the world. “Whose calling I asked?” “I’m calling on behalf of the credit collection agency, are you Mr. Hall?” “Are you I asked?” “No I’m not Mr. Hall; I want to speak to Mr. Hall.” “Sorry, I said, “Now is not a good time.” “So when would be a good time?” the voice wanted to know. “How about you give me your home phone number and I’ll phone you when you’re at home, how about that?”

Copyright© by John P. Smith 2013 all rights reserved.