Doctor Who_ Combat Rock - Mick Lewis [4]
Victoria blushed at the lengths of thigh and cleavage that were revealed by short skirts and plunging tops. Jamie caught her reaction and nudged her, grinning.
‘Come on, let’s see if these lasses can show an old-fashioned matron like you a thing or two.’ Victoria pushed him in the back indignantly and turned to the Doctor for help, just as she always did when the young Scot was teasing her.
The Doctor glanced over at the noisy bar and then smiled placatingly at Victoria.
‘Perhaps we’ll go somewhere a little more... er... quiet to have something to eat, Jamie,’ the Doctor said.
‘Och, Doctor...’ Jamie’s face fell. Now it was Victoria’s turn to smirk.
The Doctor patted his shoulder. ‘You join us later if you like, Jamie. Maybe you can find out exactly where we are while you’re about it, eh?’
Jamie beamed brightly, and then just as suddenly looked a little disconcerted. ‘But where are you two going, then?’
The Doctor looked around the busy square. Then he pointed to a terraced restaurant festooned with exotic plants.
‘Well, what about over there for something to eat, Victoria?’
Victoria followed his gaze. It didn’t look as exciting as the venue Jamie was planning on visiting, but at least her modesty wouldn’t be affronted. And she was more hungry than she’d realised too. She nodded her head and then frowned at Jamie as he waved cheekily before striding off towards the bar.
The Doctor called him back. ‘You won’t get very far without these...’ Jamie looked at the small pile of coins the Doctor had fished from his voluminous pocket and took them from him eagerly. Then he paused as a thought struck him.
‘Are you sure these will be all right?’ He examined one of the mould-blue coins a mite dubiously.
The Doctor treated him to a conspiratorial smile. ‘Have I ever let you down before, Jamie?’
It was a stupid question. ‘Aye, loadsa times!’
The Doctor’s face fell. ‘Well, if you don’t want them,’ he said petulantly, reaching for the coins.
Jamie moved his hand so the Doctor couldn’t retrieve them. ‘Och, no. I’ll trust you.’ He turned towards the bar again.
‘We’ll be waiting for you, Jamie!’ the Doctor called after his retreating back. Jamie waved again briefly and practically ran up the steps into the bar.
The Mumi’s shrivelled head swivelled, staring at the tourists with no eyes. One bony arm lifted, pointing at the plump woman. For a moment the other tourists were convinced the keening scream was coming from her, despite its horrifying unearthliness. But the woman’s mouth was closed for once, her ample bosom pumping up and down in her terror. An object flew from the Mumi’s mouth – the tourist in the blue suit saw it clearly. It flashed across the space between dead thing and fat woman and then connected, coiling around her throat, an emerald green snake the width of a man’s finger. Its fangs sheathed themselves in her bolster-like neck.
One of the satellite tourists dropped his camera and toppled backwards. His friend thought it was just from shock until he saw the snake hanging from his face, clinging to his forehead by its teeth. Another snake whipped from the Mumi’s open mouth, fastening itself to the beautiful throat of the Indoni woman. Her husband caught her as she fell.
The plump woman was writhing on the ground, and her skin had already transformed. Her face looked like a carnival mask – lurid green as if smeared with Halloween greasepaint, her mouth a clown grimace. Her wobbling husband wobbled over her, gut heaving, until a snake latched onto his bald patch and he followed his spouse to the grass.
The guide was already running. As he dashed for the gate leading out of the compound, he couldn’t resist one look back, and saw the Indoni businessman screaming, screaming, then swallowing a snake that hurled itself from the Mumi’s mouth.
He went down, no longer screaming but choking. Blue Suit