Doctor Who_ Deep Blue - Mark Morris [81]
Without hesitation, Mike aimed his gun and fired. Just as he squeezed the trigger, the hybrid sprang towards him, swooping low as it did so. The bullet passed over its shoulder and smashed a hole through the French windows. The hybrid collided with Mike’s legs, sending him staggering back against the wall.
Mike knew how important it was to stay on his feet. As he bounced back from the wall, the hybrid was rolling over. It was too close now for him to use his gun, it would spring to its feet and close the distance between them before he could even get the weapon levelled. Deciding, therefore, that discretion was the better part of valour, Mike turned and fled.
The hybrid came after him, which was what Mike had expected and wanted. If it had got back to finish off the woman, he would have felt honour-bound to turn and confront it again. All the same, being pursued by a ravening psychotic predator was not a pleasant experience. Mike ran as he had never run before, expecting to feel the weight of the creature slam into his back with each pounding step.
‘Start the engine!’ he screamed at Tegan, seeing her peering out of the truck at him as soon as he burst out of the house.
He saw her face change from surprise to shock as she recognised the thing chasing him - or at least who it had once been. ‘Do it now!’ he yelled.
She started the engine. ‘Drive!’ Mike shouted. ‘Drive! Drive!’
If she hesitated they would probably all be dead. He was thankful, therefore, to see the truck pull away from the kerb almost immediately. Mike leaped off the kerb and pounded after it. The truck was doing maybe ten miles an hour when he launched himself at the tailgate. He grabbed it with both hands, ignored a splinter that slid into the ball of his thumb, and hauled himself up and over.
He was lying in a sprawl next to the Doctor’s feet, gasping and congratulating himself on his timing, when he heard something thump against the tailgate. Looking up, he saw two hands curled over the top of the wooden flap, a face with tar-black eyes and mouth twisted in a bestial snarl rising between them.
With frightening speed and agility, the hybrid slid its upper body over the tailgate and grabbed Mike’s ankle. Its grip was brutally strong, and instantly Mike read its intentions from the glee of anticipation on its face. It meant to twist his foot and break his ankle, and Mike had no doubt that it could do it too. Imbued with the savage strength of the Xaranti, Tegan’s former friend could snap his bones as easily as he could have snapped the stick of celery pinned to the Doctor’s lapel.
Instinctively Mike whipped up his gun and pulled the trigger. This time the bullet didn’t miss. It struck the top of the hybrid’s head, sheared it off and scattered it across the road in the truck’s wake.
For one terrible moment the hybrid still clung to Mike’s foot. Then the grip slackened and the creature tumbled back into the road, arms spread like a horizontal crucifixion.
Tegan stopped the vehicle in the middle of the road and Mike heard her sobbing bitterly. He jumped down from the back of the truck and opened the driver’s cab door. She was slumped with her face in her hands as if trying to prevent her near-hysteria from seeping out.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Mike, ‘I didn’t want to kill him. I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been him or me.’
Tegan didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge him. At least not until he touched her arm, whereupon she wrenched her hands away from her face and snarled, ‘Don’t you dare!’
The sea boiled and churned, waves crashing on to the deserted beach as if heralding a storm. A hundred feet from the shore,