Doctor Who: Doom's Day: Extraction Point by M G Harris

Author:M G Harris [Harris, M G]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781473533486
Google: leaUEAAAQBAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 62981216
Publisher: BBC Digital
Published: 2023-08-09T23:00:00+00:00

In mounting bewilderment, Doom watched the video two more times. Kulekvo’s death must have happened at around the same time as his own scheme to murder her and trap the ghost, because the first attempt to arrest her had taken place mere minutes afterward. It was hard to believe she was even a suspect; surely she’d barely been unaccounted for long enough to fit in another ‘hit’ with a side of ‘mutilation’ while making her own escape.

‘If all they found was one organ, it’s probably because he got too close to his own boobytrap,’ Doom muttered to herself. She peered more closely at the snake paintings. They appeared crudely drawn, like cave art of early human civilisations. Those folk usually painted bison and mastodons, noble creatures of the hunt, didn’t they? Snakes struck her as out of place and weirdly unnerving. Like some kind of warning.

Cave art … Asteroid? Nope.

From the shadows behind her, Doom heard a rustle. Snakes on her mind, she swung round, casting the beam of her headlamp onto the rough ground. The rustling – definitely not the swishy type you might associate with slithering animals – became more frenzied as she tracked it with the light. Beneath a thin layer of thermally controlled fabric her skin prickled as the hairs on her neck and arms stood on end. Slowly, reluctantly, she shifted the light towards the far end of the tunnel, more than five metres away. A dark mass seemed to be accumulating there, piling higher as the beam of light approached. Doom’s mind took another second to process what she was seeing. Then she froze, shuddering in revulsion.

A two-metre-tall column of cinnamon-brown somethings was teetering as the units at the top began to unbalance the whole. As a few began to fall away, they hit the ground and shimmered a neon orange for a second before scuttling away from the light. Casting the light this way and that, increasingly panicked, Doom watched as they headed in every direction aiming for whatever shade they could get. And she could still hear them: thousands of tiny feet scraping and scratching through the fine dust layering the ground. Finally, for just a second she caught one in the full beam of her headlamp. It was a cockroach, huge, at least twenty centimetres long. Bristling with rage and aggression and along with hundreds of others, headed straight for Doom.

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