Doctor Who: New Series Adventures [016] - Forever Autumn by Mark Morris

Author:Mark Morris
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Comics & Graphic Novels, Halloween, General, Science Fiction, Doctor Who (Fictitious Character), Fiction, New England, Media Tie-In
ISBN: 9781846072703
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2007-11-27T08:00:00+00:00

even in their dormant state, without help. He ran his hands over the metal walls of the storage chamber, probing for gaps, searching for a dodgy hinge, a hidden catch, anything. It didn’t take him long to find it, a loose rivet at the top of the right-hand wall. He pressed it confidently – and nothing happened. Nonplussed, he tried twiddling it, and a metal door about a metre square swung open to the side of him.

‘Now that’s what I call a cat flap,’ he muttered, and rummaged in his pocket until he found a pencil-torch. He turned it on and shone it into the darkness beyond the door. The light revealed a narrow tunnel, the walls roughly clad in rotting timber.

‘Ready or not, here I come,’ he said, and clamping the torch between his teeth he crawled inside.

The walls were writhing around her. The ceiling was undulating above her head. Even the floor was rippling beneath her feet. Martha’s entire surroundings were made up of black roots or vines, which were constantly on the move, twisting and intertwining like a chamber of snakes. She might have thought they were snakes if it wasn’t for the fact that green light was pulsing and flickering through them, bathing the place in a dim, toxic glow. Indeed, the only thing that wasn’t moving in the hellish environment was Martha herself. She was immobile, her muscles locked into place, able to do nothing but think and observe.

She was trying to stay calm, to behave as the Doctor would behave, to look around with interest and curiosity. She was trying to overcome the fact that she was terrified out of her wits, trying to tell herself that the reason she kept stepping back into the TARDIS was precisely so that she could have experiences like this.

I mean, she thought, here I am in an alien. . . lair? Base? Anyway, here I am. And I’m surrounded by giant, skinny pumpkin-men. I mean, how amazing is that?

The pumpkin-men, she knew, were called Hervoken. She knew that because she could understand their language, even though it was composed not of traditional speech, but of a complicated fusion of 75

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