Doctor Who_ Empire of Death - BBC Worldwide [93]
Doulton called to the Doctor for help but heard no reply. Instead he could just hear a distant screaming, like an animal in agony.
After that all was a blur of darkness and pain, voices swirling around him in a fever.
The general had come to in the cell, surrounded by nearly a dozen of his men. Clark saluted and gave thanks that Doulton was still alive. They had thought him dead, so still had his body been since they arrived. The soldiers had no way of knowing how long they had been in this place. They claimed it was Doulton who had led them through the gateway before bringing them to this place, but the general knew that could not be true - could it?
Later - perhaps days, perhaps only hours - the door to the cell had opened inwards and a young boy had peered inside.
Doulton was eager to leave but Clark and the others had volunteered to stay behind, in the hope it might mask the general's escape. He had never been prouder of any men under his command and told them so, saluting their bravery before he departed. The boy led him up a spiral stone staircase and out into the open air. Run towards the darkness, the lad had said, pointing at a black stain on the horizon. That leads you back. In the distance a woman's voice was calling for the boy, summoning James for a morning feast.
Doulton had run for what seemed like forever, wishing he was younger and fitter, regretting those late night glasses of port and fine cigars. Suddenly he was surrounded by the blackness, veins of it reaching out across the ground and sky. Ahead was a vertical aperture, like an eye turned on its side. The darkness was seeping out of that, reminding the general of festering, gangrenous wounds he had seen in field hospitals. Could this be the gateway to his world?
He was about to venture forth into the aperture when it began to pulse and throb. Doulton could hear a familiar voice, urging others onwards, commanding them forwards. He retreated into the shadows beside the aperture and watched as dozens of soldiers poured through, all soaked to the skin, looking around themselves in wonder. The voice ordered them forwards, telling them to walk towards their dearly departed. Doulton watched in fascination as the men marched onwards, now being led by a figure in a general's uniform.
Once they had gone, Doulton emerged from the shadows and stood before the aperture. How had the soldiers been able to reach the gateway without diving suits? The general didn't want to think what fresh torments might be in front of him. He had no choice, he had to go back through and warn the others. It was his duty, as an officer and a gentleman. Doulton filled his lungs with air and plunged into the aperture, letting the darkness envelope him.
Hawthorne knew he was not a brave man. He had gone out of his way to avoid facing danger, always afraid he might be discovered a coward. So when the stranger had walked into the cell with Lady Nyssa, Hawthorne made sure his back was against the wall with several soldiers in front of him. The private did not believe he had anything to fear from the Doctor's travelling companion. Her bewildered face betrayed only her gentle nature. But the man -
his eyes had the same remorseless quality Hawthorne had seen in too many soldiers. The stranger would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Strangely, Lady Nyssa called the man father, but Hawthorne could see no resemblance.
The private felt the bile rising in his throat when Clark died. The sound of bones snapping in the lance corporal's neck stirred a memory. At Christmas Hawthorne and Johnson had crept into the officer's mess after dinner and picked at the carcass of the turkey, scoffing