Doctor Who: Torchwood [011] - Bay Of The Dead by Mark Morris

Author:Mark Morris
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Harkness, Intelligence officers, Horror, General, Science Fiction, Human-alien encounters, Suspense, Adventure, Cardiff, Wales, Fiction, Media Tie-In, Jack (Fictitious Character)
ISBN: 9781846077371
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2009-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

NINE

Deep breaths, Andy told himself. In and out. That's it. . . that's it. . .

Little by little he forced himself to calm down. He loosened his death-grip on the steering wheel and eased his foot off the accelerator. Twice since leaving the hospital car park, he had almost lost control of the car. How ironic it would be to evade the marauding undead only to plough head first into a lamp post or bus shelter.

Beside him, slumped in the passenger seat, Dawn was now deeply unconscious. For a moment Andy envied her. How nice it would be to sleep through this nightmare, wake up when it was over.

That's if she ever does wake up, a little voice whispered in his head. There was no denying that she now looked desperately ill – her flesh lard-white and clammy-looking; her lips almost purple; her eyes sunk deep in bruised sockets.

Andy's priority remained the same: to get her some medical attention – but from where? What if the zombies had isolated all the hospitals? Bearing that in mind, his best bet was probably to head back to the station, get the doc there to take a look at her. It wasn't ideal – the medical equipment there was limited – but at least it was a plan, something to work towards.

Feeling more purposeful, he looked around, trying to work out the quickest route – just as a figure hobbled out from behind a white van parked at the side of the road, and stepped directly into his path.

On the surface, the figure appeared to be an attractive young female, wearing a tight, sparkly top and a short skirt. However, she was in such a state that Andy's first assumption was that she was yet another of the walking dead. Her blonde hair was in ratty disarray and she was limping so badly she was all but dragging her left leg behind her. Andy clenched his jaw, deciding in a split second that he would swerve around her if he could, but that he would not be averse to smashing her out of the way if she left him with no alternative.

Then, in the headlights, he saw her eyes widen, the stark – and very human – look of terror on her face, and suddenly he was stamping on the brakes and twisting the wheel in a desperate attempt to avoid running her down.

Although it happened almost too quickly to think about, he couldn't help experiencing a weird sense of déjà vu as the car slewed to the left, tyres screeching. The girl flashed by on his right – a pale, almost wraith-like form. The main obstacle directly in front of Andy now, across a pavement edged by a high kerb, was a street-length wall punctuated by a variety of garden gates. He wrenched the wheel to the right, though not quickly enough to prevent the passenger-side wheels scraping against the kerb with enough of an impact to cause his teeth to clash painfully together.

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