Doctor Who BBCN19 - Wishing Well (22 page)

Angela sat at the wheel of her Land-Rover and cursed loudly.

If Gaskin was shocked by such colourful language, he didn’t show it. His attention was focused on the strange wall of brambles that had grown, like something from a fairy tale, right around the village green.

The stems were wire-thin, barbed with long, vicious thorns, curving up towards the night sky over the well.

It was a surreal vision. The street lights outside the Drinking Hole cast an unearthly glow over the spiky dome, making it look like a vast, alien pustule on the face of the Earth. The brambles – or whatever they actually were – were still growing as they watched, extruding from the ground beneath their feet, bending and weaving themselves together to form an impenetrable barrier.

Villagers had gathered around the dome, although almost all of them were keeping their distance. Many were talking on mobile phones or taking pictures. Someone ran out of the pub to say that the police had been called, along with the ambulance service and the fire brigade.

‘Might as well call in the Marines as well,’ muttered Gaskin.

‘What do you mean?’

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‘They won’t get here in time. The Doctor and Martha are inside that thing – trapped. They could be dead already for all we know.’

Duncan leaned forward between the front seats. His face was pale and haggard, but otherwise back to normal. ‘But we don’t know,’ he said. ‘They could still be alive.’

‘What can we do, though?’ Gaskin asked, gesturing impatiently at the forest of thorns. ‘Look at that thing! It’s the perfect barrier.’

‘It wants to keep us out, then,’ Duncan said.

‘You know,’ said Angela, her eyes narrowing, ‘I really don’t feel like doing anything that thing wants, do you?’

‘What on earth do you mean?’ asked Gaskin.

‘Well, as Duncan says. . . it clearly wants to keep us out. I don’t think we should give it that satisfaction, do you?’

‘I don’t think there’s much we can do about it.’

‘Really?’

She straightened her bush hat and then turned the key in the ignition. The Land-Rover rumbled into life.

‘Where are you going?’ Gaskin asked.

‘I’m going to see why it’s so keen to keep us out.’

She put the Land-Rover into gear, turned the wheels towards the thorns and then put her foot down.

Automatically, Martha grasped the Doctor’s outstretched hand.

His fingers felt hard and bony, but they grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed. It was all she needed. Somewhere inside, the Doctor was reached out to her – not just physically, but mentally. He needed her.

He needed her to
do something
.

She forced herself to look into his eyes. They were bloodshot, wide with pain, but inside them the Doctor’s intelligence still burned fiercely. It wasn’t the insane stare of someone driven beyond their ability to think or act. It was a look that implored her to help.

And then, in a flash, she saw it.

The Vurosis was trying to force the Doctor to change, to mutate so fast that his molecular structure ignited and blew itself into dust. Just 170

like it had with Barney Hackett, and Ben Seddon, and Nigel Carson.

But the Doctor was resisting it.

His body was palpitating, rippling before her eyes as the cells within twisted and turned, but he was holding the damage at bay.

But now he was asking her to help. He couldn’t do it alone.

She held his hand tightly in both of hers, as tightly as she could manage, and nodded. Then she looked up at the Vurosis, and the flickering green diamond of its brain.

Martha closed her eyes. She let the green glow envelop her, felt the first tendrils of power sneaking into her mind, alien and cold and malignant.

It was strong. She sensed its power and intention. She sensed the way in which it tried to change her, to dominate her. She even felt it when her body began to change and mutate, causing her to panic and almost let go of the Doctor’s hand. Her veins seemed to fill with something other than her blood, something that was as cold as ice and yet burning in its intensity. It was as if a sudden floodgate had been opened deep inside her, precipitating a massive and comprehensive transformation that she could not control.

But the Doctor’s hand kept its grip on hers, and his mind was there too, somewhere, because she could sense him as well as the Vurosis.

‘Concentrate, Martha! Keep holding it back!’

–you will not stop me–

Martha let out an involuntary cry, whether it was pain or fear she wasn’t sure. ‘I can’t. . . It’s too powerful. . . ’

The Doctor’s voice again, clear in her head: ‘Yes, you can. You can halt the transformation. Reverse it! Sadie’s was halted, remember.

Duncan’s was reversed. We can do it!’

The Vurosis renewed its attack and Martha felt the change sweeping through her system, literally sensed the veins beneath her skin beginning to respond to its telekinetic effort.

–you will not stop me–

‘I can’t do it, Doctor! It’s too strong!’

‘You must! Together we must!’

–YOU WILL NOT STOP ME–

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The searing heat of the transmutation overtook her. Martha felt something burning deep within her, at the very core of her being, transforming everything that was human. Her eyes opened, slowly, agonisingly, and in the milky blur of her vision she saw the Doctor.

Or what had once been the Doctor.

Now there was a mass of writhing white weed surrounding his wide, brown eyes, the lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral cry.

The Land-Rover punched right through the thorn barrier, ripping the long wire-like stems apart. The thorns scratched at the vehicle, almost as if they were reacting to its intrusion and were determined to stop it. They dug deep into the metal hide of the car, forcing a series of screeching protests from the old, worn bodywork. The engine roared and the wheels clawed at the ground, churning into the white weed.

Angela kept her foot hard down on the throttle and dropped down a gear, forcing the engine into a metallic shriek. Her knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel as the veteran Land-Rover bucked and rattled under her grip.

‘Keep going!’ bellowed Gaskin. ‘We’re getting through!’

He was holding on to the dashboard, willing the machine on. The Land-Rover reared and then surged forward, the last of the brambles scraping the dark green paint off in strips.

But it was free.

‘Ha!’ barked Angela gleefully. ‘Take that, you blasted alien mon-strosity! This isn’t just Earth you’re trying to invade. It’s England!’

The Land-Rover slewed around as it skidded on the weed, narrowly avoiding the large, gnarled growth containing the barmaid Lucy. Angela swung the wheel and the Land-Rover turned, tipping onto two wheels before crashing back down and speeding towards the well.

It was an eerie, twilight world of pale, alien weed. It was almost like a giant snow globe containing the well and the monster squeezing itself out of it like an enormous worm.

And in front of it, lit by a halo of putrescent green light, were the Doctor and Martha.

‘They’re still alive!’ Duncan said, pointing.

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‘Are you sure?’ Gaskin asked as the Land-Rover came to a stop.

Without thinking, he was already opening the passenger door to step outside.

Angela had climbed down from the driver’s seat. ‘Of course he’s sure! Look!’

Martha and the Doctor were crouched in front of the Vurosis, hands clasped together. The Doctor was clearly in a bad way, but he still looked up at Angela as she approached. His eyes looked white and cold. ‘Trying to. . . hold it back. . . ’ he croaked. A pained smile appeared on his lips. ‘Could do. . . with a hand. . . ’

Angela nodded immediately and said, ‘Come on, Henry!’

Gaskin stepped forward a little uncertainly. ‘What can we do?’

‘Help them, of course!’ Angela grabbed hold of Martha’s free hand and held out her other hand towards Gaskin.

He reached out and took it. Her hand felt warm and dry in his. She smiled back at him and said, ‘It’ll be just like making a wish.’

Duncan joined them, looking up in disgust at the Vurosis. ‘That thing bullied its way into my mind, made me kill my best friend!’ He grabbed hold of Gaskin’s other hand. ‘Let’s do it!’

The Vurosis suddenly twisted and released a ferocious hiss of annoyance. Green light crackled around the well, discharging into the five people gathered around it in a semi-circle.

The Doctor got to his feet, shakily, but the veins were now settling beneath his skin, and his eyes were shining with renewed determination. ‘Keep fighting it,’ he said. ‘It can’t change all of us! That’s why it was trying to keep you out!’

The green glow of the telekinetic energy flowed over them, winding around their arms and legs, sparking and crackling but unable to settle. There were too many minds to infiltrate at once.

–i must grow–

‘I’m sorry,’ the Doctor said. He was looking more like his usual self again, tall, thin, standing up straight as the light flickered over him, his hair moving wildly as the telekinetic force scratched and scraped at his head. He looked directly up at the Vurosis brain, which was now shining with a desperate, blinding green light.

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Then the electrical storm of energy surged up and around the well, up the Vurosis itself, concentrating on the brain. Long, jerking fingers of green light stabbed out of the brain, lashing at the humans assembled around it, but without actually connecting. Instead, the wild arcs of light zig-zagged back towards the creature itself. Suddenly it was illuminated from within, so brightly that its internal organs were visible through the fibrous outer hide.

The Vurosis thrashed from side to side like a wounded snake. A horrible scream filled the air, tearing through the dome of thorns.

Everyone inside and outside covered their ears with their hands, but the noise reverberated inside their heads.

‘Look!’ shouted the Doctor. Martha couldn’t actually hear him over the shrieking, but there was no mistaking what he was pointing to.

Cracks were appearing all over the Vurosis, and through the cracks a brilliant, dreadful green light was shining. Its scream reached a terrifying peak and then suddenly the creature blackened, and as it whipped from side to side in its death throes it broke itself apart, crumbling under its own weight. Its skin shredded into nothing, the alien guts inside unravelling and splitting, before finally turning to dust.

The fire spread out through the white weed, searing it away, leaving nothing but ash behind.

‘We did it!’ Martha yelled, whooping and jumping.

‘What did we do?’ Gaskin demanded.

‘Turned the Vurosis’s own power back on itself,’ said the Doctor as they watched the weed wither and die. ‘It wasn’t strong enough to take on all of us. It turned the power right up, but all that happened was that it got caught in its own telekinetic energy field. The transmutation process was accelerated beyond anything it could cope with.’

The last of the weed blackened and faded, revealing the figures of the people that had been caught up in the initial growth. They fell to the ground as soon as the supporting weed disappeared, and Martha instantly ran to help.

The Doctor caught up with her as she knelt by Lucy’s prostrate form.

Martha looked up at him. ‘I don’t know if she’s alive or not.’

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‘Let’s move her and the others away from here,’ he told her. ‘It’s not over yet.’

There was no time to ask any more questions. The Doctor lifted Lucy onto one shoulder and carried her off the village green, his trainers slipping and sliding in the mud. Several onlookers helped him as he reached the pavement, lifting Lucy down onto a bench. Gaskin and Duncan were carrying another man out between them.

‘What’s happening now?’ Angela asked.

The ground was trembling beneath their feet once more. People were started to panic again, and there was talk of an earthquake.

‘The Vurosis had its roots deep underground,’ explained the Doctor calmly. ‘It’s spread out all under the village. It’s dying, but the chain reaction is carrying on all the way to its deepest parts.’

People were pulling the thorn brambles away, using gloves or spades or broom handles. The stems simply snapped and broke, crumbling to flakes. Soon the entire dome had caved in as if it were made from straw.

A weak green light shone from the well. It flickered and pulsed as the remainder of the alien being that had been growing for so long beneath the village finally burned away. There was a last, long moan from deep inside the earth and a final, bright flare. Soil and debris spewed out of the well, trailing bits of glowing weed which quickly turned to ash. Slowly the green light died away and all was still and dark.

The village green looked like a battlefield, and there were casual-ties.

‘Stand back, let’s have some air here, please. . . ’

said Martha,

cradling Lucy. The barmaid looked deathly pale and a number of people were crowding around. Martha laid her down and concentrated on clearing the girl’s airways, making sure there was nothing left inside her mouth to stop her breathing normally. ‘Lucy! Lucy! Can you hear me?’

Lucy’s eyes flickered open and she gave a sudden cough, doubling up as if she was choking. Her mouth gagged and she spat out the last bits of weed and soil. The weed crumbled to nothing.

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‘This one’s alive too!’ called Duncan, sitting with one of the other men who had been caught in the weeds. He was spluttering too, but holding up a hand to indicate that he would be all right.

The Doctor had wandered back towards the well, which now stood in the middle of a field of churned mud and ash. He picked around in the dirt until he found a small rock no bigger than a lump of coal. It was grey and weighed next to nothing.

Gaskin joined him. ‘What is it?’

‘The remains of the Vurosis brain.’ The Doctor clenched his fist and the rock crumbled into powder. ‘Gone for ever.’ He dusted his hands, and the last fragments of the Vurosis blew away on the night air like smoke across a battlefield.