Doctor Who BBC857 - The Crooked World by The Crooked World (Steve Lyons)

Author:The Crooked World (Steve Lyons)
Language: eng
Format: epub

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Somebody was pounding on the side door of the warehouse. Fitz was bemused to see that the door strained inwards and threw off faint white lines, as if part of the noise were being converted into light. The four villains raced out from their office but didn’t seem to know what to do next. They looked at each other, then three of them looked at the Green Ghost. He put a finger to his lips, demanding silence, and Fitz wondered if he should take the opportunity to cry out for help. Perhaps later, he thought, when he knew what was happening; he didn’t want to risk looking stupid.

The Ghost motioned his racing driver colleague towards a small window. Dirty Duck crept over to it and used the sleeve of his trenchcoat to wipe away years of grime, allowing him to peer through. Something looked back from the other side, its eyes almost pressed up to the glass, and the duck recoiled with a ‘waaaaaark’ of fear. Fitz caught a vague impression of white feathers before the figure disappeared.

‘It’s the Stork!’ exclaimed Dirty Duck. ‘It’s the Baby Stork!’

‘What?’ cried the Ghost. He frowned. ‘Is anyone expecting a delivery?’

‘Don’t look at me, dearie,’ said Repugna. ‘If I want a little brat, I’ll build one myself.’

‘I’m not even married!’ protested the Masked Weasel. ‘Don’t open that door!’

‘It’s a trick,’ spat Dirty Duck. ‘A low‐down trick. It’s a spy, that’s what it is, sent here undercover to find our secret hideout.’ Fitz was beginning to enjoy this.

There was a thump as something landed on the roof, then the tapping of what he guessed was a beak against glass. Even as the villains looked up in unison, a skylight smashed and the Baby Stork fluttered into the building amid a hail of shards. They cowered from it comically as the huge, white bird alighted atop a pile of crates and surveyed its surroundings with a series of jerky head movements. A fluffy, white bundle hung from its beak, and suddenly Fitz remembered something he had said to Angel Falls.

The Stork made eye contact with him and flapped its wings once, tucking its spindly legs beneath its body as it soared towards its target.

‘Oh bloody hell, no!’ moaned Fitz. ‘I don’t want it. No, get away! Shoo! Shoo!’

The Stork dropped its package into his lap and rose again with a second powerful beat. Fitz was too busy staring downward, petrified, to care where it went. He couldn’t see the baby inside the swaddling‐clothes, but the thought of it was terrifying enough. What was he supposed to do with it? He couldn’t look after a kid, not with his lifestyle. His first instinct was to get the thing away from him – but, tied up as he was, he could do nothing but let it rest on his knee, a dead weight, growing slowly warmer. Why was it making that hissing sound?

The villains had recovered from their shock and they crowded around him, beginning to find the situation every bit as amusing as he himself had done a few seconds earlier.

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