Doctor Who: Target - Novelisations [015] - The Dæmons

Author:Barry Letts
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science-Fiction - Doctor Who
ISBN: 9780426113324
Publisher: Target Books
Published: 1993-12-14T23:00:00+00:00

8

The Second Appearance

‘But are you sure you can manage?’ said Miss Hawthorne anxiously, as Sergeant Benton carried the large pile of books through the door, and out onto the green.

‘Not the first time I’ve had a bit of a punch-up, Miss Hawthorne; said the Sergeant, ‘and I don’t suppose it’ll be the last.’

‘You’re a very courageous young man,’ she said, following him out.

Mike Yates closed the door behind them and watched, smiling through the window, as the big Sergeant and the wiry little spinster crossed the middle of the green, where the UNIT helicopter was standing patiently chewing the cud.

‘Well,’ he thought, as he turned back into the room, ‘what now?’ He and the Sergeant had been ordered by the Brigadier to ‘stay put and keep your eyes peeled’, an order which he had every intention of interpreting very liberally, should the occasion arise. For the moment, however, he seemed to be stuck here with no particular job to do. Right, this was a good chance to have another go at thinking things out – without going to sleep, this time! Jo was quite right. Blowing things up was no way to solve a problem. Brain was the thing, not brawn. So, where had they got to? Where as the enemy? Ah, but first, who was the enemy? The Master or the Dæmon? Both of course, but still, even if they managed to sort out the Master – and that was a big enough job in itself – they would still have to face the Dæmon. So, where was he? According to Miss Hawthorne’s story, he was almost certainly in the Cavern under the church. Why not go and have a look, then? Well, apart from the danger, there was the added difficulty that at the moment, if the Doctor’s theory was correct, the Dæmon was about as big as a grain of sand; for all practical purposes, he was invisible.

Mike walked down to the window and looked out at the church, seeking inspiration. ‘Here’s a character in a hurry. Still he certainly knows how to handle that motor-bike,’ he thought. Mike Yates realised with a sudden start exactly what the character on the bike was up to, riding up onto the grass, coming to a skid stop and running straight towards the UNIT helicopter.

‘Hey!’ yelled Mike, as he rushed out and ran across the grass to cut him off. The man, a thin wiry individual with a ferrety face, ignored him. Mike put on a spurt and managed to reach the chopper just as man started to clamber aboard. Mike Yates pulled him out. Wilkins swung round and landed a surprisingly heavy blow. Mike, though a little shaken, fought back. One, two, three, straight at the chin. The fellow ought to have been out for the count. He seemed quite impervious to the heaviest blows Mike could muster up. It was like fighting an automaton, a robot. Wilkins drew back his right hand and swung it like a club. It was a blow quite outside the normal run of boxing and should have been of little or no use.

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