The Revolution of the Species
An Environmental Thriller
by
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Outside Doug’s window in the gathering light was an array of creation. The animals were not big, but there were hundreds of them. Individually, he might not have seen them, but together they were a moving mass of life that were all over his garden. He knew that they were not friendly: not just because they were ranged outside his window and looking up at him - it was more ominous than that. Their movements were not rushed or random, but objective, collected and, above all, calm. Instinctively, he seemed to know that they were waiting for him, and had acquired the restraint of human intellect to wait for the right moment. Although he could not tell why, he perceived that they were aware that he was perpetrating hideous experiments on their cousins, and they did not like it. Nor did Doug. He had the innate perception that they were there to get him - a re-run of the mice biting him but on a far larger scale. He recoiled and let the curtains fall back across the window. As soon as he did so, there was a noise of screeching and squeaking that came from outside and, almost immediately, a sharp crack against the window that he had looked out of followed by a receding flapping of wings. Then another. They knew he was there.
Frank and Jessie looked the slowly advancing sheep in their eyes, which were malevolent and focussed. Unlike sheep normally, they did not look away from them even for an instant but kept staring - and were completely unimpressed by shouts and sudden movements, even when Frank picked up a large stick and brandished it. They could not get down the escarpment behind them - it was too sheer. And if they could have done, then so could the sheep. Jessie looked at the boulder next to her, which protruded over the edge. “If I can get over that, I think we can go round the back,” she shouted above the wind into Frank’s ear. “They won’t be able to get over it for a while, and we can make for the car.”
“I don’t think they’re that stupid,” he shouted back into her ear; “but it’s the only hope we’ve got. My side’s no good. Go now - go on.”
Jessie jumped up onto the rock and stood at the top for a moment, trying to get her balance in the blustering wind. Her foot slipped a little, but then she was over the top with Frank almost falling over her. They ran the twenty yards to the car behind the rocks and the sheep and opened the doors: the sheep, hearing the doors and then realising what was happening, tried to turn round quickly but due to their tight formation found it difficult to do so. This gave Frank and Jessie a few vital extra seconds: Frank thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, which got caught on his trousers and fell with a jangling clatter to the floor of the car. He reached down, picked them up, and fumbled the key into the ignition as the first thud of a sheep’s head rocked the side of the car - then another and another. Jessie found herself screaming as the butting continued and the car lifted off the ground for a moment. Then the engine fired and they were in reverse, a thump denoting that they had hit at least one sheep as they did so. Then the wheels were spinning and they were off down the track, mud, grass, lichen and water splattering everywhere, cascading down the escarpment with the sheep in full pursuit. As they got near the bottom they saw the dogs they had observed earlier running alongside, getting closer as they tried to head them off. And then, as the engine screamed, they suddenly saw a huge kite fly towards the windscreen, its extended claws scratching into the glass as it flew into them and then over. As they got to within a hundred yards of the road, the dogs jumped onto the car, barking and yapping, scratching and yelping; two got crushed under the wheels and great spurts of blood splashed the windscreen. Jessie had stopped screaming but was now white with fear: Frank had the look of a fighter pilot. As they hit the road with a bang and a huge jump into the air, another car was coming the other way, hooting and flashing its lights in an effort to avoid this idiot joining the road at that speed. Then they collided, sideways on, the sound of wrenching, tearing metal and squealing rubber mingling with the noise of dogs, sheep and birds. Jessie’s door prised itself open in the impact: there was a gap of about an inch wide at
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About the Book
When toxic waste chemicals from a secret government research centre creating DNA-changing drugs for the military start to leak into the environment, the effects on the eco-system have sudden and profound effects for humankind’s supremacy of the planet. As the government dithers and delays, the crisis becomes greater and more widespread, eventually causing international intrigue and diplomatic incidents. Will the planet survive in its current state or will the revolution of the species succeed? It’s all down to one man in particular: but can he create an antidote in time, as he avoids and fights the government and vested interests? And who is working for whom? Whatever the outcome, our planet will never be the same again...
About the Author
This is Simon Holder’s first novel. He has spent most of his life working in TV as a scriptwriter and director. His interests include classical music and opera - especially Berlioz - architecture, rugby union, The Strawbs, theatre, cinema, and the English language; his concerns for the environment are reflected in this novel. He lives with his Chinese wife in London.