The Bright Side.

Peter Smith has just found out he has a month left to live due to a lethal brain tumour.
He has also just found out that in less than a month, the human race will become extinct and that he has been chosen to be one of six humans to survive the approaching apocalypse. And who has saved him? E.I.P.F, the Earth Inhabitant Protection Front, a group of intergalactic environmentalists who want to save just one species.
And so, whilst also keeping his deadly secret from the aliens, Peter embarks on a quest to rally the chosen survivors, whilst avoiding Government Agents, the secret services, Satanists, Velociraptors, and a manic depressive Tyrannosaurus .


17. Chapter 17

 Okay, this wasn't what Timothy Walton had expected when his editor had told him a former soldier and a meteorologist were holding a press conference with something important and vital to mankind to announce. He wasn't expecting it to be this busy, he knew for a fact that the Prime Minister himself was holding a press conference at this very moment, so, why so popular? Well, he was about to find out. He sat poised, in the predictably uncomfortable chairs, his pen at the ready at his notebook. Blimey, he even noticed a TV camera in the corner of the room. What the hell were these people announcing? The size of the venue, anyone would think the world was about to end. As the imposing figure of Colonel Rogers and the disgruntled figure of Professor Reginald Smythe strode onto the stage, Timothy prepared his pen.

This had better be good.


Forty-five minutes later, Timothy stumbled from the conference room ashen faced and speechless. As did every other reporter who had sauntered into that room with the honest intention of mauling every word that was spoken. But, not a single word was written down on Timothy's pad. He just couldn't bring himself to. He still couldn't believe what he had heard, despite being shown a pretty convincing power point presentation and a graph. He quickly pulled out his phone and turned it back on, he had six missed calls from Daisy Lilliman, he knew that she was at the Prime Minister's conference, so why was she trying to call him? Unless . . .

He hastily pressed the redial button and listened impatiently as it rang, finally, she answered. “Timothy?” came Daisy's breathless voice.


“What was yours about?” she asked.

Timothy frowned and scratched his thatch of hair, “I'm not too sure,” he said eventually, “the end of the world was mentioned several times. So, I guess . . . the world is ending. Yours?”

“Funnily enough,” Daisy said slowly, “the exactly same thing.”

Walton glanced at the other reporters standing aimlessly in the lobby, they all had the same looks of dawning on their faces. “So . . .” he said, “I guess . . . the world . . . is ending?”

“I guess so.”

“How do you think the people will take it?”

“A week of rioting and looting no doubt,” Daisy said. “What will you do?”

Timothy paused, what would he do? He had one week to prepare himself for the end of the world, say good bye to his friends, his family. One week to do everything he had ever wanted to. But at the moment, only one thing seemed a good idea. “Fancy meeting up for sex?” Timothy suggested.

There was a brief moment of silence, then, “Okay.”

And that was it, Earth was warned, and they had one week to prepare. Or loot and damage as much property as they could.


Sir Hubert Chesterfield ground his teeth together in fury, he had watched both press conferences in a daze. Firstly, how could people like that idiot Rogers and that scientist know enough to hold a press conference, and secondly, how could that worm Potter have the spine to tell the world about the government's incompetence to save the world from disaster.

Chesterfield rubbed his jaw, but still, it could work to his advantage. This Peter Smith, obviously he was one of the six who would survive, and Rogers obviously had the intention to draw him out, a damned foolish notion, like bedlam would pull survivors into the lime light. If anything they'd only shrink further away from the light, but still, they must know something. Perhaps it would pay off to hang around with them, find out anything about any more survivors they might know about. It was evident that working for the Order of Icarus would bear no more fruit.

So, Sir Hubert was a free Agent once more.

A week to drag six idiots back to earth to die. He didn't know of any better way to spend his last days.


Emilia reclined in her chair and sighed, it had gone better than she had expected. The men and women in the conference hadn't screamed and laughed as she had feared they would, they just sat in a respectful, patient silence. Not even the scratching of their pens, or the clicking of their cameras had broken the steady drone of Rogers and Reginald.

In fact, it had been slightly eerie, as if they had expecting such news and it was no surprise. She stared at her fellow members of The Pentagram Society of Evil and Unbidden Thoughts Worshipping The Almighty Prince Of Darkness and Bringer Of Ultimate Destruction, Lord Lucifer, Satan, King Of The Underworld, they all had triumphant looks on their faces, as if what they had done had actually helped in dragging Peter out of the wood work.

In all honesty, Emilia had only agreed because she wanted to be the cause of something in this life, even if it wasn't saving the earth and was uncontrollable anarchy. Rogers smiled victoriously and lit his pipe with a small chuckle. “Hmm, wonder when this Smith character will come scuttling to us,” the Colonel commented, “begging us to control the mobs and keep the peace!”

Emilia sighed irritably, these people really had no idea, she opened her mouth to retort, when it hit. Always when she had a clever quip or comeback, always after she wanted it. Now it hit like an anvil in the back of the head.

The sinuses flared at the blue dots appeared in her eyes, her head threw forwards as the searing cleaved into the back of her skull whilst at the front machine gun fire riddled her brain. But then the vision came on, it came on quickly, like the punches from an experienced boxer. They were fast and hard. She nearly missed it all. But, she got them, she saw them. And as soon as it had started, it was over. She threw herself back, gasping for breath, fighting back the urge to scream. Her fellow cult members stared at her wide eyed, probably they're only encounter with the occult. Who could blame them for looking like that, after all, she had had a mini seizure in front of them.

But she wasn't bothered by their expressions, in fact, she was smiling, she was laughing. She knew exactly where to go, she knew exactly how long to wait and she knew exactly what would happen. She laughed and laughed whilst the members of The Pentagram Society of Evil and Unbidden Thoughts Worshipping The Almighty Prince Of Darkness and Bringer Of Ultimate Destruction, Lord Lucifer, Satan, King Of The Underworld, watched on in shock.

“Oh the irony!” she chuckled, “The irony!”

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