Doctor Who_ Corpse Marker - Chris Boucher [73]
‘Not a great plan,’ the Doctor agreed, reaching along the wall from the side of the hole and starting to bang one shard into the surface using another one as a hammer. ‘Better than frying, suffocating, or getting blown up, though.’
‘Only just.’
The Doctor hammered another piece of metal in a foot or so higher and about three feet further along from the first. ‘Right,’
he said. ‘We stand on those and we hammer in two more higher up and further out.’
‘Only if we’re insane,’ Poul said, looking down at the wall dropping vertically away below the flimsy pegs.
‘Or if we have no choice,’ the Doctor said, putting more pieces of metal into his coat pockets.
‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Poul said.
The Doctor patted his shoulder. ‘We’ll be on that bridge in no time,’ he said, hoping he sounded reassuring rather than desperate. ‘Two things to remember. The first is don’t look down. And so is the second.’ Smiling, he stepped out on to the metal footholds. They were as firm as he hoped they would be, which was a relief because he knew there was no going back now and if he was going to die he would have preferred to do it with a better joke.
Slightly turned in the direction he was travelling, he pressed himself against the rough surface of the wall. Reaching forward with both arms, he tentatively started tapping the next piece of metal into place. When the peg was part way in he let go with one hand and hammered harder with the other. Almost at once the masonry fractured and crumbled and the metal peg tore free and spun away. The Doctor groped in his pocket for another and tried again. This time it worked.
Trying to concentrate on what he was doing without thinking too much about where he was doing it, he repeated the procedure and successfully put a second peg beyond the first.
Transferring his feet to the two new pegs was awkward - he had to turn outwards slightly and squeeze one leg slowly past the other and then turn back to face the wall again. Having completed the contortions, he was disappointed to see how far he still had to go to reach the bridge. He was beginning to ache a little. It was possible he would run out of strength before he ran out of metal shards. And it was possible that he would run out of both before he reached that bridge.
‘Tell me again,’ Poul’s voice said close behind him, ‘what a good idea this is?’
‘I don’t think I said "good",’ the Doctor grunted, feeling in his pocket for the next peg.
Suddenly behind him there was a dull thump and a roar. A rush of hot air touched him. The wall trembled. The sound of tumbling rubble and metal cascaded by and down into the distance. Unable to turn his head, the Doctor said, ‘Are you still with me?’
‘I am,’ Poul gasped, ‘but I think the flier left by the sound of it.’
‘Seems we got out just in time,’ the Doctor said. ‘Shall we proceed?’
‘It’s a long way to that bridge,’ Poul said.
‘It looks a long way.’
‘There’s a difference?’
The Doctor reached forward and placed the next piece of metal. ‘Someone might throw us a rope.’
‘These are the Sewerpits. How is it I remember that?
Anyhow they’re more likely to throw rocks.’
‘Why?’ the Doctor grunted, banging the shard.
‘See us as food.’
The Doctor hammered the peg home. ‘They have to rescue us before they can eat us,’ he said.
‘No,’ Poul murmured. ‘Only got to pick up the pieces.’
Above them someone came on to the bridge and stopped at the rail to look down at them. For a moment the Doctor half expected to be bombarded with stones.
‘Doctor?’ Leela called down. ‘It is you!’
‘Hullo, Leela,’ the Doctor called back, trying to look up without tipping backwards. ‘What took you so long?’
‘I had trouble finding rope,’ Leela shouted as she finished securing the length she had spliced together from odds and ends she had found and what she had cut from the bridge lashings.
Carefully she lowered it. It hung out over the chasm. She swung it towards the Doctor. He tried to catch it as it brushed against him but he missed it and it swung away again. She swung it back more positively