Doctor Who_ Grave Matter Part 24

The main window to the drawing room was another matter, however. Villagers were pulling the bottom of it away from the stone mullion that held it. Another few minutes and it would be out altogether, allowing them into the house. Inside the drawing room the fire was spent, having burned itself out on the armchair and the body of Bill Neville.

As they continued their a.s.sault on the window another, smaller, group of villagers emerged from the inky night. They had been round the house, to the barns and outbuildings, to find tools to help with the attack on the house. Robert Trefoil was at the front of the group. He was carrying a sledgehammer, holding it across his chest.

The sound was m.u.f.fled but audible down in the cellars. It was a heavy repet.i.tive thump that reverberated through the whole building.

The Doctor was standing by the metal door. He had given up trying to guess the key sequence to unlock it, and had removed the front panel of the keypad. Inside was a ma.s.s of coloured wiring that he was staring at without enthusiasm.

'That was upstairs,' Sir Anthony said as the thumping sound continued.

'I'm afraid you're right,' the Doctor agreed. 'They've obviously decided it's time they came to get us. And I don't think it will take long.'

'Can we get out?' Peri asked.

'Not upstairs we can't.' The Doctor returned his attention to the wiring, picking out strand after strand and examining the connections. 'Best to keep the door shut and try to barricade it.'

Sir Anthony examined the table. 'No good,' he decided.

'It's fixed to the floor.'

'So we're trapped in here, with no way to keep them out for long,' Peri pointed out. Her voice was strained. 'And we can't even get into the lab where we might find something to help.'

The Doctor turned slowly to answer. 'Peri,' he said, 'would you please try not to state the obvious with such a.s.sertion? We're all well aware of how much trouble we're in, thank you very much.'

'There's no other way out of here,' Janet said.

'You see,' the Doctor said indistinctly. 'Even Janet there agrees.' His voice was indistinct as he had the ends of several wires between his teeth now. He added yet another, and then gave a sudden high-pitched yelp. The wires fell from between his teeth. 'That one was live,' he said in a peeved voice. Then he started scrabbling through the loose ends. 'Which one was it?' He tentatively tapped the bare end of a wire against his hesitant tongue. 'Not that one.'

'It was the red one,' Peri told him.

'Thank you.' The Doctor turned back to the keypad, pulling out a length of red wire. He paused, then he dropped the wires again. He turned to Janet. 'You said there was no other way out of here, didn't you?' His voice was low and thoughtful. 'So, where is it?'

'I told you,' Janet replied evenly, 'there's absolutely no other way out of here.' She pointed up at the square of metal set into the wall above a workbench. 'That is not, I repeat not, a coal chute behind there, and there is no way you can get outside through it.'

They all stared at Janet. Then they stared at the metal plate. The Doctor leaped on to the workbench and reached up.

He could just get his fingers behind the bottom of the plate and worked at it frantically. After a few moments the plate lifted away, and fell with a clang to the work surface below. It bounced to the edge, then fell to the floor with another, louder clang as it hit the stone.

Behind the plate was revealed a square hole. It was just possible to make out a steep chute running at an angle upwards. The hole was about two feet wide and eighteen inches high. The Doctor stood on tiptoes atop the work bench to peer into it. 'I'm not sure that it really is a coal chute,' he announced loudly into the opening. His voice echoed round inside the empty s.p.a.ce.

A moment later a cloud of black dust fell out and splattered across the Doctor's face. He coughed, wiping at his eyes. 'Definitely a coal chute,' he decided.

'So what do we do now?' Sir Anthony asked. 'I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hardly up to climbing out of here through that thing.' He nodded at Sheldon, still huddled under the table, rocking back and forth and singing to himself.

'I don't think Christopher here is up to it either. Janet?'

'I think it would be very easy to climb out,' she said.

The Doctor finished dusting himself down and jumped from the workbench to land squarely on the floor beside Peri.

'One of us needs to get out,' he said calmly, 'and send for help.'

'How?' Peri asked.

'Well, climb.'

'No, I mean how do we send for help?'

The Doctor looked to Sir Anthony. 'Do you have your mobile phone about your person?' he asked. 'We should have thought of that earlier. It may not work down here of course, but once out, Peri can call up help from your friends at the ministry.'

Sir Anthony's face fell. 'It's back at the cottage,' he confessed. 'I don't tend to carry it round. There's rarely a chance of a signal, so I just got out of the habit, I suppose.'

'Wait a minute.' Peri was frowning. 'What do you mean "Peri can call up help"?'

The Doctor looked round, wide-eyed with surprise. 'Well, I don't know who else you think could do it,' he told her. 'Sir Anthony and Sheldon are obviously out of it. Janet would only be able to tell them that everything here is hunky-dory, thank you very much, and I...' He set his right hand on his left breast and struck a theatrical pose. 'As you are so fond of pointing out, Peri, I have a statuesque and well-toned physique which is sadly just a little too ample to fit through that hole up there.'

He smiled. 'Which leaves...?'

'OK, Porky,' she said. 'Point taken. You just want me to crawl up that chute, get out at the top, avoid the roaming zombies, get a boat back to the other island, find Sir Anthony's phone and hope that I can get a signal. Then I call some people who have no idea who I am and hope they'll agree to send some sort of help. But we don't know what. Is that it?'

The Doctor sucked in his cheeks and nodded. 'You seem to have the general idea,' he agreed.

As he spoke, there was the sound of running feet from outside the door. A moment later, the first blows hammered against the door. It shook under the impact, the sound echoing round the room.

'Except,' the Doctor added, 'that you missed the bit about haste, urgency and speed.'

Peri looked at the Doctor. Then she looked at the door.

'Right,' she said, 'give me a bunk up, then.'

'The phone,' Sir Anthony told her as the Doctor hoisted Peri on to the workbench then jumped up after her, 'is in the top left drawer of my desk at the cottage. The ministry is speed dial three. I a.s.sume you know how to work a mobile phone?'

The Doctor was just lifting Peri into the chute. She had her arms stretched out above her head, reaching into the narrow shaft. 'No,' she said. 'Not a clue.'

The Doctor gently set her down on the work surface again.

They found a sc.r.a.p of paper, and Sir Anthony scribbled down hasty instructions.

'You'd better give her the home number of your friend, what's her name?' the Doctor said.

'Madge. Good thought.' Sir Anthony added a phone number to the bottom of the paper, then handed it to Peri. She stuffed it into her pocket.

'Right,' the Doctor said. 'Here we go again.' Behind him the door frame was splintering under the relentless onslaught.

He lifted Peri into the chute. 'Try to brace yourself against the sides and wriggle upwards,' he suggested.

'Thanks, Doctor,' she told him. 'What a good thought.'

But the Doctor had disappeared from the bottom of the chute. He was already working at the wires behind the keypad that controlled the lock of the metal door to the main lab. The last thing that Peri heard from below as she eased herself up the shaft was the sound of splintering wood, and the terrific crash as the door was knocked out of its frame.

Chapter Thirteen.

Close Calls There was no time to waste and little to be gained by wondering what was happening in the room below. Peri had managed to worm her way up the chute. It seemed to go on for ever, and there was no sign of a light at the top. It was night, Peri reminded herself, she would see nothing until she arrived, probably. However, a little moonlight or the sight of a star would have been encouraging.

She continued to wriggle upwards, bracing herself against the steep sides and pus.h.i.+ng up with her toes, then pulling with her hands. Fortunately the chute was made of brick or stone, she could not see which, so there were handholds and niches the whole way. The disadvantage was that it was rough and grazed against her legs and her arms, dug into her sides, rubbed painfully on her cheeks and nose if she rested her head.

The sound and light from below had receded into nothingness. That was her only indication that she was making any progress. Even so, Peri was worried that she was slipping back as far as she pushed upwards each time, without realising. As her journey continued, still with no end in sight, her worry turned to anxiety, and her anxiety to fear. By the time she reached the top, she had no idea how much later, tears of frustration and terror were streaming down her dusty cheeks.

She heaved herself forwards again, reaching out, and her hands. .h.i.t the metal plate that covered the top of the chute. For several seconds she was unable to work out what was wrong, what she had hit up against. Then slowly, it dawned on her, and she lowered her head and sobbed. Her hands battered on the metal plate, making a hollow clanging sound. But it refused to budge.

She was feeling sick again. Though whether this was because of the situation or the Denarian gradually taking hold within her, Peri neither knew nor cared. She continued to batter at the metal plate, her only options to break through it or to slide back down to the room below and whatever was waiting for her there.

The first indication that her thumping at the plate was doing any good was a breath of fresh air against Peri's cheek.

At first she was merely glad of the cool, clean air inside the stuffy chute. But then she realised that it must mean there was a gap somewhere to allow the breeze through. A gap that had not previously been there. She renewed her attack on the plate, pus.h.i.+ng herself further up the chute to try to bring more force to bear on it.

When the plate gave way, it did so suddenly. With a metallic wrenching, the whole dented rectangular sheet of metal ripped away from the opening, and Peri found herself looking out into the night mist.

With a sense of relief greater than she could recall ever feeling before, Peri hauled herself out of the chute. It emerged about two feet above the ground at the back of the house, and she climbed out on to the gravelled driveway that circled the house. Her feet crunched noisily on the small stones as she stumbled. She froze, scared that someone might have heard.

Her feet had pins and needles, and it took her a moment to regain her sense of balance after the disorientation of the climb.

After a few moments there was still no sign of anyone about, and Peri decided they must all now be inside the house.

Nevertheless it was with exaggerated care and caution that she made her way round to the front of the house. She needed to get down to the jetty and find a boat. With luck she could row it across to the main island before anyone even knew she was here.

She had been a.s.suming that the villagers were the only threat. But it became apparent, as she reached the front of the house and set off across the lawn, that this was not the case.

At first she thought they were bats, black shapes swooping through the misty night sky, screeching at the pale shape of the moon. But as one dipped low over her, Peri saw that it was an owl. The creature's sharp clawed feet were extended downwards as it flew, ripping at the air. Instinctively, Peri ducked. And a claw ripped through the top strands of her hair.

She screamed in fright, surprise and pain.

She a.s.sumed it was an accident, that the owl had simply not seen her. But then it came round for another try. And others joined it. She ran on, desperately waving her arms above her head, thras.h.i.+ng at the owls. They screeched and howled as she hurled herself along the narrow path through the trees. Claws tore at her hair, whipped at her cheeks. Then suddenly, they were gone. The night air was empty again.

Peri did not stop to wonder where they had gone - she simply gave silent thanks that they were no longer after her.

Perhaps she had blundered through some territorial area, or disturbed them while feeding. Her mind struggled to rationalise the attack as she neared the jetty. Then she saw the fox.

It was crouched down at the near end of the jetty, as if guarding it. As Peri approached, the fox's head snapped upwards and it stared directly at her. Saliva dripped from the side of its jaws as it opened its mouth slightly at the sight of the girl. Its pallid eyes gleamed through the mist. And at that moment, Peri realised what she faced.

They had talked about the infection spreading into the food chain. The fox, the owls too, were infected. They probably did not know why they were doing it, but they were out to stop Peri reaching the main island of Dorsill. She ducked back into the shadows of the trees.

As Peri considered what to do, the fox leaned forward, its snout close to the ground as if smelling her out. Slowly, it started forwards, keeping low, its body moving fluidly over the path as it crept towards Peri. Behind it she could see the jetty, could see several small boats tied up along its length.

From somewhere came the screech of an owl, answered immediately by another.

'Peri?' The voice was from the woods behind her. 'Is that you, Peri?' A woman's voice.

It took her a few seconds to identify the direction. She peered into the darkness, barely able to discern a dark figure on the path. 'Who is it?' she called out, her voice trembling.

'It's me, Liz.' The figure took a step forwards, illuminated now by a shaft of moonlight that sent the mist scurrying away into the trees. 'Come back, Peri. Everything's all right, you know. There's no need for this.'

She was right, of course. Peri knew that. Somewhere inside her mind she knew that all she needed to do was wait and everything would be fine. For everyone. Especially for herself.

Liz Trefoil leaned her head to one side as she waited, silhouetted hair falling sideways. 'What do you say, Peri?'

Peri opened her mouth, about to answer, about to say that yes she knew everything would be fine. But then she saw the other figure, the dark shape behind Liz in the shadows.

It was Madsen, the silhouette of his head jagged and broken.

And suddenly Peri's mind was clear again. She turned back towards the jetty. The fox's mouth opened in a wide hiss of anger and antic.i.p.ation. Peri ran towards its jaws.

She almost left it too late. The fox snapped at her heels as Peri leaped over it. Almost. Then she landed on the edge of the jetty, already running, sprinting for the nearest boat.

No, not the nearest. The next one. The one with a motor, she could now see even as the moon receded behind the mist again. Peri slipped the rope from round the stumpy pole of the jetty and jumped down into the boat, feeling it lurch beneath her as she landed, as she rocked with it and almost fell.

The fox was racing towards her. Liz Trefoil was running too, Dave Madsen stumbling after her. Peri grabbed the motor's starter cord and pulled. She pulled so hard she almost lost her balance. The fox jumped, was in the air as the motor caught.

The blades of the propeller were in the water already, and they bit immediately into the water. The boat lurched, tipping backwards as the prow lifted and the whole boat shot forwards. The fox's front paws scrabbled on the stern of the boat, scuffling, desperate to gain purchase. It managed to pull itself up on to the edge of the boat, eyes glinting, cruel and pale with antic.i.p.ation. Its jaws opened wide.

Just as Peri slammed the blade of an oar into it, sending the fox howling into the water.

She sat down, angling the motor and setting the boat towards where she hoped the main island was.

Behind her, above the sound of the motor, she fancied she could hear the steady dip and pull of the oars as another boat set off after her. But, she told herself, it must be her imagination.

There was a strange air of similarity between the journey on the boat and Peri's climb up the coal chute. Again she was heading into the darkness with little or no way of judging how far she had come or exactly where or when she would eventually arrive. She just prayed that her memory of the position of the island was not flawed, and that by keeping the motor in the same position she was not going in circles. She tried not to consider what the effects of tide and current might be on her trajectory.

She also hoped that she was going at a speed sufficient to keep the owls from attacking her again. But in the event it was not owls she needed to worry about.

Peri's first intimation of trouble was when the boat was thumped in the side with a jarring thud. She was almost knocked from the wooden seat by the outboard, the impact was so sudden, so unexpected and so violent. Then came another. And another. There was precious little moonlight, and what there was served mainly to illuminate the swirls of mist that clung to the surface of the water. But beneath the smoky texture of the night, Peri could make out a dark shape circling in the water. Barely more than a long shadow, it undulated through the sea, coming round in a wide arc before hurtling towards the boat. A long, thin tail became visible thras.h.i.+ng it through the water as the creature attacked again.

Then a triangular fin sliced through the mist, and Peri realised it was a shark.

There was water in the bottom of the boat now, slos.h.i.+ng over the side as the whole thing shook and trembled beneath the onslaught. One of the planks that made up the floor of the boat was loose, shaken out of place and more water was pus.h.i.+ng up through the gap, was.h.i.+ng round Peri's feet.