Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [29]
The engine, spluttered a little, but only a tiny amount.
‘Almost there,’ the Doctor assured her.
Debbie remembered something about the film. ‘Doesn’t Richard Dreyfuss have trouble starting his car in that one because there are UFOs around?’
‘That’s right.’ The Doctor beamed. ‘Sure sign we’re on the right trail. Er... can we take your car?’
* * *
‘Here we are,’ the Doctor announced. The bleeping from the device he’d plugged into Barry’s car radio was insistent now. The Doctor turned it off and disconnected it.
Debbie could just about see the Hunters’ black Volkswagen parked in a lay-by. She parked the Cortina alongside it.
Over a dry-stone wall was a dark wood. The bare trees stood out against the snow.
‘Do you know the area?’ the Doctor asked as he got out.
Debbie locked the driver’s door and shook her head. ‘I think that’s Cooper’s Wood. A lot of couples come here. I’ve never been.’
‘Well, it’s definitely the right place.’ He pointed at the Beetle. The Doctor was already strolling off down the footpath.
Debbie caught up with him, doing up her coat buttons and tying her coat belt. ‘Is this wise?’
‘I think so.’
‘Arnold was scared. I bet he’d tell you not to come here.’
The Doctor stopped in his tracks. ‘Arnold Knight is dead,’ he told her. ‘Murdered last night in hospital.’
Debbie suddenly felt terribly sick, terribly out of her depth.
‘The Hunters – do you think they’re involved?’
The Doctor shook his head. ‘There’s a connection, I’m sure. Everything here is connected.’
Debbie shivered. Even the first time she’d met them the Hunters had scared her – and they’d been hanging around the playground a few nights later. The Hunters had been following her around.
‘I don’t understand what we’re meant to be doing here. Shouldn’t we call the police?’
‘They wouldn’t listen. Wait!’
Debbie froze in place.
‘Down!’ the Doctor hissed.
As they took position behind a bush, Debbie caught sight of the strange man and woman. Mr Hunter was leaning against a tree. His wife, or sister, or whatever she was, had knelt down, and was playing with what looked like a camper stove. She seemed to be trying to encourage it to work by talking to it.
Debbie knew she should be getting cold, but she was excited, and the adrenaline seemed to be keeping her warm. This was an adventure for her – she was sure the man and the woman were up to no good. They looked like criminals, she decided – there was just something shifty about them.
The woman said something to the man. The Doctor looked over to Debbie hopefully, but she shrugged: they were too far away to hear anything.
Mr Hunter was clearly restless, and it was getting infectious – the woman began pacing about. She pulled something from her belt and checked it: Debbie recognised it as a communicator, just like the one the Doctor had.
There was a flash of light. It took Debbie a moment to realise that it was the man, taking a photograph of the woman. It was a Polaroid, and the little square picture emerged. The man looked confused by the fact that the picture hadn’t quite developed yet.
‘They could pass for human, don’t you think?’ the Doctor asked softly.
Debbie looked at the two people standing in the clearing, then back at the Doctor. ‘No,’ the Doctor said, answering the question she hadn’t asked. ‘I don’t think they are.’
‘They’re the aliens,’ she whispered.
‘Yes.’
Debbie was almost disappointed they didn’t look like the monsters in her pupils’ drawings. Where was their robot? Why couldn’t they be lizard people, or have blue skin or tails, or something? They drove around in a Volkswagen, for God’s sake. But she realised she didn’t doubt what the Doctor was saying.
‘We have to make contact,’ the Doctor said, the words hanging in the air.
Debbie realised she must have looked horrified at the thought, because before she’d had the chance to say anything, the Doctor continued: ‘No, no, don’t worry. It has to be on our terms. And we have something they want.’
‘We do?’ Debbie asked puzzled.
‘Yes. They’re very, very unlikely to kill us.’
Debbie imagined that