Doctor Who BBCN19 - Wishing Well (19 page)

‘I think we’ve already lost,’ Sadie said quietly.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’ll think of something!’

‘Doctor,’ said Martha. ‘Hurry!’

The Doctor suddenly ran across the bedroom, bouncing over the big double bed to land by the window. He threw back the curtains and peered out into the night.

‘What’s he doing now?’ Angela demanded.

‘We’re two floors up,’ the Doctor said, thinking aloud. ‘Trapped.’

‘Then open the window and throw the ruddy thing out.’ urged Gaskin.

The Doctor ignored him. Desperately he scanned the bedroom looking for inspiration and spied another door. ‘What’s that?’

‘En-suite bathroom,’ replied Gaskin automatically.

The Doctor leapt across the bed again, his long legs hurdling the room in two strides.

‘Hardly the time,’ Gaskin scowled as the Doctor disappeared into the bathroom.

The bedroom door suddenly gave way as the creature forced its way through the narrow frame with a series of guttural roars. Its cluster of black eyes roved around the bedroom, searching for its prey.

To Martha’s dismay, everyone else instantly pointed towards the bathroom.

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With a snarl the monster trampled its way across the room, dragging pieces of broken door and ornaments with it. It smashed the entire doorframe and part of the wall away with one enormous swipe of its arms, exposing the tiled bathroom and the Doctor standing inside.

He was holding the stone at arm’s length over the toilet.

‘One false move and it goes,’ the Doctor said.

The creature paused, its ragged breath spraying saliva across the room. Flecks of tar-like goo specked the pristine tiles and shower door.

‘I’m warning you,’ the Doctor continued. ‘I’m not afraid to flush.’

The monster regarded him sourly but didn’t approach. It seemed to be thinking what to do next.

Everyone held their breath.

Then, quite suddenly, the white weeds growing from Duncan’s flesh spread out like a nest full of snakes and coiled around Sadie, lifting her bodily off the floor. She screamed as it carried her over its head and dangled her in front of the Doctor.

The Doctor held out his free hand towards the monster, fingers spread. ‘Wait! Don’t! Don’t do it!’

He still held the brain in his other hand over the toilet, but everyone could see that it was stalemate.

Sadie sobbed in fear as the weeds tightened around her and the creature breathed its foul stench across her face. Tears ran down her cheeks as she twisted away, looking to the Doctor.

Very slowly and distinctly the Doctor said, ‘Let her go.’

The beast growled, its jaw distending and its fangs splaying out like the fingers of a hand. Tongues flapped like eels fighting in its mouth.

It couldn’t speak, couldn’t articulate a single word, but it didn’t need to. The meaning was clear.
Not until you give me what I want.

In a small, wavering voice, Sadie said, ‘Don’t let him get it, Doctor. . . ’

‘I can’t,’ he replied grimly.

A green glow appeared in the creature’s throat, welling up past its teeth, shining out towards Sadie.

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Tight-lipped, the Doctor opened his hand and let the brain drop into the toilet. It landed with a heavy plop. He met the creature’s gaze and then reached for the chain and pulled.

In a surreal moment, everyone listened to the sound of a toilet flushing.

Then, with an alien howl of rage, the creature leapt forward. It tossed Sadie’s body aside like a rag doll. The Doctor dived to one side as the monster tore into the bathroom, smashing the toilet bowl into porcelain fragments, digging through the floor in a rending, tearing fury, pulling apart the pipe work beneath.

The creature crashed through the entire floor of the bathroom, tiles, floorboards and plumbing flying in its wake. Clouds of plaster dust obscured it from view as it literally chased the brain down through the drainpipe like a pig after a truffle.

‘Dear God,’ breathed Gaskin. ‘Won’t it ever stop?’

‘Not until it gets what it wants,’ said the Doctor tersely. He helped Gaskin lift Sadie onto the bed.

Martha felt for a pulse. ‘Her heart’s going like an express train. It’s racing – it’s too fast to count.’

‘Oh no. No, no, no. . . ’ The Doctor grabbed Sadie’s face and turned it towards him, pushing her eyelids roughly open with his fingers. The eyes were white. ‘No!’ he shouted. ‘No, I won’t let it happen!’

As they watched, the whiteness of the eyes darkened, turning a deep grey like slate. Suddenly Sadie’s entire body began to shake, veins standing out on her skin like wires. She threw back her head and screamed, green light crackling over her lips.

‘She’s turning!’ Martha yelled. ‘She’s going to die like Ben!’

‘No!’ The Doctor snarled through clenched teeth. He aimed his sonic screwdriver at Sadie and activated it. A shrill whine filled the air and a fierce, pulsing blue light enveloped her body. Sadie continued to spasm as her human metabolism struggled to contain the alien energy.

The screwdriver’s noise rose to a scream and the Doctor held it with both hands, training the blue rays on the trembling woman.

Martha wanted to cover her ears, whether to block out the sonic squeal or Sadie’s cries she couldn’t be sure.

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‘What are you doing to her?’ yelled Angela over the noise.

She was trying to drag the Doctor away, but he refused to move, keeping the sonic screwdriver aimed steadily.

‘Her molecular structure is collapsing,’ the Doctor explained. ‘I’m trying to stabilise it!’

The screwdriver’s emissions rose in pitch until they passed beyond human hearing. Martha guessed the Doctor could still detect it; sweat was trickling down the side of his face as he concentrated on the work.

Gradually Sadie stopped moving. Her mouth fell slack and her eyes closed.

Eventually the whine of the screwdriver dropped to a hum. Very carefully, the Doctor placed it on the bedside table, making sure it stayed trained on Sadie. A soft blue glow enveloped her as she lay on the bed, pale but peaceful. A vein fluttered in her neck as her heart rate returned to something approaching normal.

The Doctor sank back down into a nearby chair, utterly drained.

‘Is she all right?’ asked Angela quietly, never taking her eyes off her friend.

‘She’s stable,’ the Doctor replied.

‘What does that mean?’

‘I’ve managed to disrupt the telekinetic field. It won’t, last long, but it should hold the transmutation in check for the time being.’

‘How long, exactly?’

‘There’s no way of telling.’

‘Can she be cured properly?’

‘I don’t know.’ The Doctor ran a hand over his face. ‘I just don’t know.’

‘At least this buys us some time, right?’ said Martha.

Slowly the Doctor got to his feet. ‘I don’t know about that, either.’

He walked across to where Gaskin was inspecting the damage to his house. The creature that had once been Duncan Goode had torn its way through the floor of the bathroom, following the plumbing down through the next floor, and then the ground floor. From the torn edge of the bedroom carpet, they could see right down through the wreckage to the basement.

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There was no sign of the creature now.

Nigel Carson stepped through the hole in the bedroom wall which led to the landing. He was white-faced and shaken, almost unable to believe what had happened.

He looked around the assembled people, saw Sadie on the bed, and said, ‘I thought you ought to know – that thing has dug all the way down to the sewer. It found the stone. Now it’s heading for the well.’

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‘We have to stop him,’ said the Doctor, running out with Martha in tow. ‘He’s taking the stone to the well. The Vurosis wants its brain back.’

‘But what about Sadie?’ Angela called after him as they all hurried downstairs.

‘We can’t just leave her here!’ added Gaskin.

The Doctor whirled around to face them. ‘If we don’t stop Duncan, none of us will survive the night – let alone Sadie. I’ve done my best for her. It’ll have to do – for now.’

‘Perhaps you should stay with her, just in case,’ Gaskin said to Angela.

But Angela was having none of that. ‘Don’t talk nonsense, Henry!

You heard what the Doctor said – she’s stable. There’s nothing we can do for her here.’

‘But –’

‘But nothing! Come on, you’re coming with me.’

Angela grabbed him by the hand and dragged him as quickly as she could down the shattered remains of the stairs.

‘But where are we going?’

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‘After that creature, of course,’ she said as they reached the hallway.

‘I’ll wait here while you get your shotgun.’

‘You won’t need it,’ the Doctor told them.

‘That’s what you said the last time,’ Angela sold accusingly. ‘And look what happened!

Next chance we get, Henry can blast the

wretched creature to hell. No one messes with Angela Hook and gets away with it!’

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but Martha interrupted him.

‘Doctor! Look!’

Nigel Carson was already out of the front door and running for Gaskin’s Daimler. Within seconds he had it open and the engine started.

‘Trust him to scarper when things go wrong,’ muttered Angela.

Gaskin came through with the shotgun and swore loudly as he watched his Daimler pulling away. ‘How the devil did he get hold of my keys?’

‘Does it matter?’ asked Martha. The Daimler’s wheels spat gravel at the front door as Nigel swung the car towards the gates.

But the gates had disappeared.

In their place was a tangle of

wrought iron where Duncan Goode had torn his way through. The Daimler bumped over the wreckage and purred away into the night, its rear lights coming on as Nigel found the headlamps.

A series of loud barks heralded the arrival of a rather dishevelled Border Collie.

‘Jess!’ cried Gaskin, dropping to one knee as the dog ran to him, licking his face in a mad display of affection. ‘Good Lord, but I thought you’d bought it, old girl. . . ’

Jess woofed and let her master ruffle the fur on her chest, She sat and panted as he straightened up and said, ‘Look, Jess, I want you to stay here and guard Miss Brown, understand?’

Jess looked up at him, tongue lolling.

‘Does she really understand you?’ asked Angela.

‘I’ve absolutely no idea.’

‘Come on!’ yelled the Doctor, who was already sprinting towards Angela’s Land-Rover. ‘Keys, Angela!’

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‘It’s already open!’ Martha told him as she ran for the driver’s door.

‘Locks don’t work!’

The Doctor wrenched the passenger door open and climbed inside.

Martha was already in the driver’s seat.

‘But you’ll still need these to start it.’ Angela, very much out of breath now, threw a bunch of keys to Martha through the driver’s door window.

The engine was already turning over as Gaskin helped Angela up into the vehicle. ‘I don’t need pushing into my own Land-Rover, thank you very much!’ she roared. He apologised and clambered in after her. Martha released the handbrake and swung the vehicle towards the gates while Gaskin was still hanging out of the passenger door.

‘Come on, Henry!’ yelled Angela, pulling him inside. ‘Don’t be such a slow coach!’

The two of them collapsed into the rear seats as the Land-Rover shot forwards, wheels spinning. ‘Be careful with my car!’ Angela told Martha. ‘It’s a 1966 classic, you know!’

‘Hang on to your hat, Angela!’ yelled Martha. ‘We’re going off-road!’

The Land-Rover bounced across the lawns and smashed through the remains of the gate, swerving from side to side. Jess ran after it, barking joyously at all the excitement, The Land-Rover hit the kerb outside and Martha took the bend on two wheels. On the back seat, Gaskin and Angel sprawled from one side to the other as the Land-Rover veered between the trees.

The Doctor twisted around and grinned over the seat at Angela. ‘I love a drive in the country, don’t you?’

Her terse reply was drowned out by the throb of the Land-Rover’s old engine as Martha floored the accelerator. The vehicle shot up the rise of the hill, its headlamps searching the night for Nigel’s Daimler.

‘Where the hell does he think he’s going?’ demand d Gaskin.

‘He’s going after Duncan,’ said Martha, teeth gritted as she concentrated on the road.

‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘He’s going after the stone.’

‘Same difference.’

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The Land-Rover hurtled around a bend, struck a telegraph pole with a deafening clang and then skidded sideways before Martha regained control. She wrenched the metal gear stick into second and the vehicle raced on. The village shops and the Drinking Hole pub flashed past.

‘There he is,’ said the Doctor, pointing.

In the darkness they could see the Daimler’s taillight.

For a second the Land-Rover’s headlights lit up the cloud of exhaust like a silver ghost as the car swerved onto the village green.

Martha yanked the wheel around and the Land-Rover leapt onto the grass, churning the lawn up beneath its heavy tyres. Eventually, after digging deep, they found a grip and the Land-Rover surged after the Daimler.