Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [100]
Bernice left them to it, although as she made her way over to the final pit, she noticed that Michael was keeping his distance. Scott wasn’t going to be pleased to see his brother.
She’d left the glow lamp with the others, so she pulled another out of its grip on the wall and knelt down by the edge of the final hole. Before she dared look, she thought of Mum, and whispered a prayer to God or anyone or anything that might be listening. And then she peered over the edge.
A man lay curled up in the far corner of the pit. He was asleep, his head resting on his outstretched arm, like a dog. There was frost in his long stubble.
It was Jason.
For a moment she just stared down at him, taking in every inch of him. He looked tired and ill.
There were cuts on his legs and arms. His feet were bare and filthy. Probably had a terminal case of frostbite.
She lowered herself slowly over the side and dropped gently to the floor of the pit. The soft sound woke him, and he pushed himself against the wall, holding his hand over his eyes.
‘Please,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘Please . . . don’t . . .’ He looked terrified, like an animal that somehow knew that it was destined for the slaughterhouse. She swallowed. All the things she had thought of saying to him over the last couple of weeks – all the quips and jibes, the jokes at his expense – all faded away. Feeling like she was walking on air, she crossed the room unsteadily and knelt beside him. Initially he tried to push her away, screaming and yelling. Bernice was scared the Sunless might be alerted by his cries.
‘Jason, it’s me,’ she said. ‘It’s Benny.’ She repeated the words over and over again until he stopped struggling and collapsed into her arms.
21
ALL MEN ARE BASTARDS
‘Michael, take off your boots.’
‘What?’
‘Just do it!’ Bernice snapped, impatiently. Jason was having trouble walking on the rough surface. Even in the strange light, his feet looked blue. The skin was painfully cracked around his heels and toes. She doubted he was going to keep all of his toes.
Michael shook his head, sullenly. His round face was ebony in the low lighting. Bernice was about to start arguing with him again when the large man stalked over and lifted Jason effortlessly over his shoulder.
‘Hey!’ Jason exclaimed, impotently.
‘I’ll carry him, but I need these shoes as much as he does.’
They hid in a network of smaller holes which perforated the nearby tunnel walls. They led into cramped sleeping quarters. Nothing more than cells. The beds were short. This was still part of what Bernice had decided was some kind of school or children’s quarters. The sound of young voices was slightly louder now, raised in a flat, toneless song. Bernice didn’t recognize the language. It was both sharp and guttural, lots of consonants and clucking sounds. The voices sounded like they were shouting instructions or making demands. They echoed around the tunnels, grating on her shot nerves.
Michael wasn’t happy with her decision to hide there, but Bernice knew that running blindly through the enemy’s lair, hoping to just bump into the exit, was the easiest way to get caught.
The easiest way to get themselves killed. Her idea was to hide out here until the alarm was sounded. Hopefully the Sunless wouldn’t think to start looking so close to their prison. And then all she had to do was work out some way of getting off this world.
Easy.
Scott was slipping in and out of consciousness, murmuring words Bernice couldn’t make out.
His green hair was filthy and plastered to his skull. He was drooling saliva and kept repeating something about the sun.
‘Iranda has that dream,’ Jason said, quietly from beside her.
‘Everyone in our Eight does,’ Michael said quietly from the shadows.
Bernice ignored this remark. She turned to Jason. He was sitting up, hugging his scrawny knees. His eyes were clear now; and he looked