Doctor Who_ Daemons - Barry Letts [0]
AND THE DAEMONS
By BARRY LETTS
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Based on the BBC television serial The Daemons by Guy Leopold by arrangement with the British Broadcasting Corporation
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Prologue
Thunder rumbled ominously; fitful lightning mocked the darkness of the green with a sudden day; a few threatening drops of rain splashed heavily on the cobbled road...
'G'night, Josh.'
'Night, Pete. 'Night, Tom.'
Old Josh Wilkins turned reluctantly away from the friendly light of the pub and set off across the green.
'What's the matter with the dratted dog...? pulling fit to choke hisself. Wants to get home, I reckon. Don't blame him; we're in for a soaker. Better cut through churchyard...'
Josh shivered, turned up the collar of his jacket and plodded on.
All at once, the sky split open with a crack that jolted Josh's old heart, and the rain came. In a moment he was wet to the skin.
'Hey! Come back, Dan, you great fool!'
The dog, yelping hysterically, had pulled the lead from his master's hand and dashed through the churchyard gate. Cursing under his breath, Josh stumbled after him.
Suddenly the, barking became a howl like a scream of fear. A high-pitched chattering noise cut through the hiss of the rain.
Josh stopped, irrational terror clutching at his throat. But the dog was silent. He had to know.
Fearfully, he rounded the corner of the church and saw Dan, still and lifeless; and, crouching menacingly above the poor thin body, there was...
Josh struggled to run, to scream, to fight the roaring in his ears and the agony in his chest. He pitched forward on his face.
There was a rustling in the undergrowth. The 'thing' was gone, but Josh just lay there quietly, one arm lying protectively across the drenched fur of the dead animal...
'He died of fright, Doctor. I don't care what you say... the man simply died of fright.'
Doctor Reeves sighed. 'My dear Miss Hawthorne, the medical diagnosis is quite clear. He died of a heart attack.'
The morning sunshine flashed on Miss Hawthorne's indignant pince-nez . 'But his face...!' she exclaimed.
'An expression like that is quite common in cases of heart failure. Now, if you'll excuse me...'
The doctor walked across to his car. Miss Hawthorn, clutching desperately at the folkweave cloak slipping from her shoulders, scuttled after him.
'The signs are there for all to see, Doctor. I cast the runes only this morning.'
The doctor frowned irritably. 'Superstitious nonsense!' he snapped. 'I'm sorry—I have my rounds to do.'
With an exasperated crunching of the gears the doctor's ancient car rumbled away. Miss Hawthorne took a few frustrated steps forward, raising her voice as the doctor receded...
'If Professor Horner opens that barrow, he'll bring disaster on us all. I'm warning you! This is just the beginning!'
1 The White Witch
Doctor Who was a happy man, the birds were singing a spring song, the sun was gleaming on Bessie's new coat of daffodil paint and there was a pleasant tang of engine oil in the air...
'Doctor! You haven't been listening!'
The Doctor looked up from the open bonnet of his beloved old car. 'Oh yes I have,' he said, smiling at the indignation in Jo Grant's face. 'You were talking about this new pop group who wear vine leaves in their hair.'
'That was ages ago! I mean, simply centuries . I've been going on about that TV programme. What do you think'll happen?'
'Happen? When?' The Doctor wandered over to the bench and picked up a fearsome-looking monkey-wrench. Jo followed him.
'Tonight, of course... when Professor Horner opens up that burial mound. I mean, what with the ancient curse and all.'
'Oh, Jo,' sighed the Doctor patiently. 'You don't really believe in all that nonsense, do you?'
'Of course I do,' she replied. 'There's been a lot of it about lately.'
'You make it sound like the measles,' commented the Doctor, returning to his car.
'But it really is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius just about now. Astrologically, like in the song. And that means the occult... you know, the supernatural and all the magic bit.'
The Doctor smiled