Doctor Who: The Way Through the Woods by Una McCormack

Author:Una McCormack
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Doctor Who, Published Fiction
ISBN: 9781849902373
Publisher: BBC Books
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

10

Rory and Emily had run out of places to hide. The ship turned out to contain no more than a few empty rooms similar to the one where Rory had woken up, and the passages all led back to the spherical room containing the circular console.

As they arrived there for a third time, Emily started to sound a little desperate. ‘We’re not going to get away, are we? There’s nowhere to hide!’

‘Not looking good, is it?’

They ran down the steps and around the back of the console. Rory’s thinking was that – perhaps – it was special space plastic and it would act as some sort of barrier between them and whatever was coming. OK. Not very likely. But possible. There was another door behind them, through which they could run (again) if the need arose, so they wouldn’t be completely trapped, even if, in the end, they’d probably just end up back here (again). He looked around for something he could pick up and brandish, but everything was fixed down and, anyway, he wasn’t sure how convincing he would look.

The footsteps clanged steadily upon the metal grating. At the doorway, however, they stopped. Rory peered over the console, but the hollow of the room was too low down for him to be able to see out.

‘We don’t mean you any harm,’ he shouted up at their pursuer. ‘We hope that’s the same for you. Can’t we talk?’

‘Talk…’ It was a young man’s voice. ‘Talk…’

‘OK,’ Rory whispered to Emily, ‘so whatever it is, at least it’s got a throat.’

‘Ooh, that doesn’t make me feel better!’

‘Sorry! Yes! What I meant was that makes it similar to – and therefore less immediately terrifying for – us. Not that human beings are universally marvellous and lovely, of course, and not that we should judge by appearances… I’m going to stop talking now and do some breathing instead, if you don’t mind.’

‘Fine by me,’ Emily whispered. Leaning forwards on the console, she called out, ‘We’re scared, you know. Both of us are scared. We don’t know where we are and we don’t know what you want from us. Your standing out there isn’t helping much! If we’ve disturbed you, we’re sorry. We can’t hurt you and don’t want to hurt you.’

‘Hurt…’ said the voice.

‘I hope it won’t, you know, fixate on that,’ Rory muttered.

‘We don’t want to be here,’ Emily went on, ‘and we’d rather leave you in peace.’

‘Peace…’

There was a silence. The voice added nothing more, and its owner made no move.

‘Sorry,’ Emily said to Rory. ‘Best I could do.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Brilliant job. The Doctor would be proud.’

‘Who?’

‘I’ve no idea. It just… came out.’ But he didn’t get a chance to chase that thought further. The owner of the voice entered the room.

He was a young man of about seventeen, with reddish hair, his cowlick slicked back inexpertly, and the merest makings of a moustache. He was in his shirt sleeves. He wore thick boots, and his trousers, held up by braces, were patched and muddy.

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