Doctor Who_ Relative Dementias Part 18

Suddenly, the door to the cel ar was slammed open and a little man tottered out, lurching around as if drunk. His cream hat was jammed on the back of his head, apparently defying gravity as he staggered into the wall.

And just behind him, struggling to keep up despite a painful-looking limp, was Ace.

Chapter Twelve.

'Don't just stand there!' grimaced Ace. 'Help me!'

For a second, Michael was frozen, not sure what was happening, whether Ace was talking to him. He took a step forward to help the man when a blur of pale movement caught his eyes from the top of the stairs. Standing, red eyes burning in a white face, was the ugliest little man Michael had ever seen. His fists were clenched as he stared down into the hallway.

'You again!' he spat, snarling at Ace. 'You should be dead!'

'Sorry to disappoint, Ace riposted, running to support the man with the hat who was slumping against the door frame. She glared at Michael. 'Help me, Michael!' she hissed again.

Michael looked up to see the goblinesque man looking back along the corridor, clearly wondering whether to fetch help. With a shake of his head, Michael leaned over and heaved the man up, slinging his arm over his shoulder. Mum and Gran would just have to wait. He didn't know who this little man was, but he had a horrible suspicion.

Lying on her belly, watching Megan prowl around in the shingle twenty feet below her, Ace wished she hadn't left her rucksack on the boat: one can of nitro-9 and Megan would have been history. Instead, she spent a few happy minutes toying with her, chucking pebbles ever further along the beach. She made sure she picked tiny ones, hoping that, with her bad vision, Megan wouldn't be able to tell that they were coming from overhead.

Ace threw one final pebble, well down the beach, and watched as Megan took another couple of steps. Sliding backwards, Ace shuffled away from the little cliff's edge, sprang to her feet and scuttled away. This was beginning to remind her of Sooal's efforts to hunt her down on board the ship. The only difference was that here she didn't have the option of the airlock for a quick escape. Of course, she could always just tackle Megan direct, go hand to hand with her armed only with a big stick and properly working eyes - although Megan's pistol meant that she'd either have to be very stupid, very desperate or very both to consider it seriously. And at the moment, Ace knew exactly which category she fell into.

The sky blazed orange and copper, shrouded by vast palls of black smoke that crawled across it like ink on blotting paper.

Silhouetted against it were the ripped and torn spires of the city, once proud, he imagined, but now pitiful - charred fingers raised up in supplication, begging for mercy. The battledisc on which he flew hummed beneath his feet as he skimmed the top of the forest, spraying death into the treetops below. He glanced back, watching the spreading wake of flaming destruction behind him.

Above the roar of that unholy, cleansing fire, he could hear the shrieks and cries of animals, and saw flocks of black birds rise from the pyre, wheeling around in the heat, confused and scared.

The city ahead - the last city on the planet - crawled over the horizon, b.l.o.o.d.y light glinting from its towers and roofs. He could see half a dozen airships rising from it, a last attempt to escape before the attack fleet levelled their home. Smiling grimly, he thumbed the controls on the rail in front of him, speeding up.

And then the world tore down the middle with a thunderous roar, white lightning cracking it into fragments which fell and fell and fell.

Eddie opened his eyes; thin, greenish light filtered through his fingers. Slowly he lowered them and struggled to focus on the trees that surrounded him. And then he remembered the dream and felt sick. Not a sickness of the body, but of the soul - a deep, shamed sickness that made him wonder, not for the first time, what kind of person he must be to have such dreams. At least this one didn't involve children, begging to be spared, as he mowed them down with weapons that spat white fire; this one didn't involve men and woman, strapped into... things things... which made them scream and scream and scream; this one didn't feature a mirror, into which he looked, and out of which stared his own face, ugly, brutish and cruel. That was the worst.

They'd done it. done it. They'd They'd put this filth in his head. Even with the silver foil that he wrapped around his head at night, they still managed to do it. They were turning him into something obscene, something evil. He looked up at the pale sc.r.a.ps of sky, rea.s.sured not to see the blacks and reds and golds of burning worlds. put this filth in his head. Even with the silver foil that he wrapped around his head at night, they still managed to do it. They were turning him into something obscene, something evil. He looked up at the pale sc.r.a.ps of sky, rea.s.sured not to see the blacks and reds and golds of burning worlds.

Eddie turned his head sharply as he heard the heavy sound of snapping branches, figures crashing through the wood. In moments he'd worked out where they were - moving at a tangent to his position. He stayed still, hugged up into a ball in the hollow at the base of a tree, and listened. There were two pursuers and one maybe two prey. They moved awkwardly, their steps irregular. Then they paused, and within seconds there was the whine of a weapon and a splintering sound. He sat up, curiosity overcoming his caution. For a moment, he found himself strangely excited at the prospect of a hunt. But then he remembered his dreams and sunk back into the loamy darkness, ashamed.

The crashing resumed, slowly fading as they moved on through the forest. The thought occurred to him that they were looking for him: but why the shots? Maybe someone else had escaped from Graystairs, someone else whose mind had been soiled and corrupted by the same filth that they'd pumped into him. He heaved himself to his feet: my enemy's enemy is my friend my enemy's enemy is my friend.

As quietly as he could, Eddie set off in the direction of the receding sounds. without thinking, his hand went to his side, searching for a weapon. what had they done to him?

Ace and Michael ran as fast as they could, dragging the limp form of the Doctor. She'd never realized that such a small, slight man could weigh so much. Did he have transcendental pockets?

A small planet or two in each one? Michael seemed to be managing OK. Neither of them looked at the other as they fled which was fine by Ace, since she really couldn't think of anything to say to him. The pain in her knee had faded, but she was sure that was less to do with its healing than with the adrenalin rushing through her bloodstream.

She'd been surprised to see Michael although judging from the expression on his face, not half as surprised as he'd been.

He'd stood there, just staring at them, until Ace had broken his trance and told him to help her get the Doctor out. Even then he'd hesitated before sighing heavily and slinging the Doctor's arm over his shoulder. And Sooal had seen them. She smiled to herself, imagining his confusion and anger that Megan hadn't managed to finish her off. If only he knew...

As they reached the road through the woods, they paused to rest. Ace looked back, relieved to see no one following them, although she doubted that pursuers would be far behind: as she, Michael and the Doctor had left Graystairs, she'd glanced back to see Sooal vanishing upstairs fetching reinforcements, no doubt. She slumped against a damp tree-stump, slimy with lichen, and grimaced at the stains on her jacket. The Doctor was mumbling to himself. She peered into his wandering, unfocussed eyes.

'Doctor? Doctor? Can you hear me? It's Ace.'

'Yes,' he slurred, staring past her into the woods.'Yes, it probably is. I'm the Doctor. Pleased to meet you.. ' He waveringly stuck out his hand. Ace took it and gave it a squeeze.

'Come on we need to get you somewhere warm, let you have a proper rest.'

'He needs more than that,' Michael said the first thing he'd said since they'd left Graystairs.

'And what would you know?' Ace said. She heard him let out a slow, controlled breath.

'Fine!' he said. 'You obviously know better? I'll just leave the two of you here, shall I? See how far you get!' He shook his head. 'I can't believe I'm helping the Doctor. If it is is the Doctor.' the Doctor.'

She'd briefly told Michael about regeneration, about how the tall, dandified Doctor that Michael had seen just a month or two ago could have been transformed into the innocuous little bundle they were dragging through the woods but he was still having a hard time believing it. Ace gritted her teeth, on the point of starting an argument. She was feeling ratty with Michael's secretiveness, worried about the Doctor and in pain from her knee. Starting an argument was actually just just what she needed at the moment. But she knew that without Michael's help, she'd struggle to get the Doctor back to the village on her own. what she needed at the moment. But she knew that without Michael's help, she'd struggle to get the Doctor back to the village on her own.

'Come on,' she muttered sullenly. 'It'll be getting dark soon.

I don't fancy being out in these woods when it does.'

Suddenly Ace heard a zinging, zipping sound, and a chunk of bark from a tree nearby exploded into fragments and dust. They looked back to see a couple of indistinct figures in the distance through the trees.

'Oh great,' Ace said. 'The bloodsports brigade.'

Michael hoiked the Doctor up, and the two of them stumbled deeper into the wood.

The past few hours, Ace realised, had taken more of a toll on her than she'd thought, and she quickly found herself tiring.

Michael was taking more and more of the Doctor's weight.

Twigs snapped and cracked like pistol shots under their feet as they carried the Doctor through the trees. Every so often, his legs, brushing the ground, would snag on a branch, pulling them up hard, sending shots of pain through her knee. Behind them they could hear the sounds of their pursuers, crashing through the undergrowth. She drew some small comfort from the fact that they didn't seem to be getting closer. But the throbbing in her knee increased its already frantic tempo, and she motioned for Michael to pause.

'It sounds like they're falling behind,' she said through deep breaths and ma.s.saged her leg, wincing. Michael nodded.

'But at this rate, we'll be tiring faster than they will. What's up with your leg?'

She shook her head dismissively. 'It's nothing amateur gymnastics were never my thing.'

'Are you going to be OK with it?'

Ace nodded, slightly embarra.s.sed by his concern, and looked around her suddenly realising that she hadn't the faintest idea where they were or in which direction they were heading. Great.

A few hundred feet away, only just visible through the trunks of the trees, she could see some sort of hut or shed. She pointed towards it. 'What about that? Maybe we could take a breather in there?'

Michael looked back, listening, and shook his head. 'If they come this way and can't see any sign of us,' he said, 'that'd be the first place they'd look.'

Ace chewed her lip and looked at the Doctor, who they'd plonked down on a fallen tree trunk. His eyes were closed, his lips were moving rapidly but silently. She couldn't work out what had happened to him: he'd been like this only more talkative when she'd first disconnected him from the other sleepers aboard the ship.

'The TARDIS!' she suddenly said.

Michael frowned at her.

'The TARDIS the Doctor's ship.'

'The police box right?'

'You've done your research then.'

'It's part of UNIT folklore,' Michael said, ignoring Ace's sarcasm. 'When it makes an appearance, you know there's trouble round the corner.'

'You really have it in for him, don't you?'

'Like I said the Doctor means trouble.'

Ace felt herself flushing, defensive. 'The Doctor sorts sorts trouble; he doesn't cause it.' trouble; he doesn't cause it.'

Michael gave a derisive snort. 'You don't know the half of it,'

he said and raised his hand sharply as the sounds of pursuit cut through the still, spring air. 'Come on, we've got to get moving.'

They took the Doctor's weight between them and set off again.

'If we can get him to the TARDIS, it might help him recuperate... or something,' Ace finished lamely, realising that she wasn't quite sure what the TARDIS would be able to do for him. If nothing else, he'd be safe there. She glanced over the Doctor's slumped shoulders and saw Michael was looking at her with a sceptically raised eyebrow.

'If it's hidden in that hut,' he said, 'we might just make it.

Any further than that, and we're gonna get caught.' As if to underline his concerns, the three of them were spattered with ichor and fragments of bark as another shot rang out, blasting a chunk from a nearby tree.

Ace shook her head. The TARDIS was miles away, up on the hillside overlooking the village. Weighted down with him as they were, and with her knee playing merry h.e.l.l, there was no way they'd make it there before they were caught. At least, she thought, looking over at the tumbled-down hut between the trees, not if they went straight to the TARDIS.

'Come on,' she said with sudden determination. 'This way!'

'Where are we '

'That hut. Come on.'

Michael gave a disgruntled noise, but Ace didn't care: whoever was following them was catching up, and at the rate that she and Michael were tiring, they could only get closer.

Short of leaving the Doctor out in the open, the plan that had just come to her was their only option.

Eddie hugged the trunk of the tree and slowed his breathing: he was fitter than he would have expected, scarcely out of breath.

There were two hunters he couldn't see their faces, couldn't quite remember their names. But he knew they were from Graystairs. Maybe these were people who'd been taken over by stuff that had been put into their heads. A man and a woman.

He watched them pause, confer, and set off again. As quietly as he could, he circled round, trying to get a look at who they were hunting and was surprised to see an ungainly clot of arms and legs and bodies, making good speed away from the two residents. Catching only glimpses of them through the trees it was hard to be sure, but it looked like a girl and a young man dragging the body of another man between them. There was something familiar about the middle figure brown jacket, cream hat. Eddie screwed up his eyes, trying to remember where he'd seen him before if he wasn't just a fiction from the stuff they'd put in his head.

They were in a huddle, talking, although the brown jacket man's head flopped onto his chest, and he didn't seem to be taking part in the conversation. Eddie watched the girl look up and cast a long, slow look around the wood. He ducked back behind the tree and waited. A few moments later he peered out to see that the three of them had set off on a new course.

Keeping low, he scuttled through the undergrowth. He knew where they were going the hut he'd spent last night in. He shook his head: if they thought they'd be safe there, they were very much mistaken. In a few minutes, their pursuers would see it. It would be an obvious if stupid place to hide. What were they up to?

They stumbled into the clearing, the Doctor still mumbling. The hut resembled little more than an ancient, battered outdoor loo, the kind that Ace remembered Nan Dudman having at the bottom of her garden. Considering she was planning to dump the Doctor here for a while, she hoped that this wasn't one although at least it would give him somewhere to sit.

'We can't hide in there,' Michael said impatiently.

'We're not going to,' she snapped back. 'We're going to leave the Doctor here and then draw them away.Without him, we can move as fast as them but not too fast and hopefully they'll follow us. We'll lose them, and then we can double back for the Doctor.'

Michael made a cautious noise, although Ace wasn't sure whether it was approval or suspicion. Considering that he was the big military hero, he seemed a bit short on cunning-plans-for-dealing-with-the-enemy-out in-he-countryside.

As they approached the hut, Ace's heart sank: it really did did look like an outside toilet although she couldn't imagine why anyone would build one out here in the middle of nowhere. look like an outside toilet although she couldn't imagine why anyone would build one out here in the middle of nowhere.

Some of the slats were missing from the side, and the door hung at a drunken angle. As she pulled at the rusted handle, she half expected the whole thing to collapse. Inside were a few damp, yellowed newspapers, a small wooden crate and various lengths of twine and wire hung from nails hammered into the wall. They looked a bit like snares, and Ace wondered if it was a gamekeeper's hut. They settled the Doctor down onto the crate and he looked up at her with pitiful eyes: she wondered whether he actually knew who she was. For one horrible moment, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe Graystairs and the people wired up in the s.p.a.ceship were all part of some sickening plot to actually give give people Alzheimer's, rather than cure them. Could this be what had happened to the Doctor? Ace realised that her throat had gone tight and dry at the thought, and she swallowed painfully. people Alzheimer's, rather than cure them. Could this be what had happened to the Doctor? Ace realised that her throat had gone tight and dry at the thought, and she swallowed painfully.

'You wait here, Professor, OK? You got that?'

He looked at her, blank and uncomprehending. She felt Michael patting her on the arm.

'Come on, Ace. If they catch sight of us here, we've had it and so's he.' He gestured, almost dismissively, at the Doctor.

'Just don't move,' she said, turning to the Doctor again.

'We'll be back for you soon.' Reluctantly, she closed the door, trying hard not to feel like she was abandoning him.

'All right!' she hissed, more snippily than she'd intended, as Michael reminded her that they had to get moving. The sounds of pursuit were becoming louder again, but they still thankfully couldn't see anyone.Which hopefully meant that they couldn't be seen either.

They set off, moving at roughly a right angle to their pursuers' course: they wanted to lead them away from the Doctor, after all.

'So what's the plan?' asked Ace, giving one last look at the hut.

'Stick together,' Michael said. 'If they catch sight of us, we need to be able to fool them into thinking we've still got the Doctor with us. Otherwise they might stop and look around for him.' He put his arm around Ace's shoulder.