Doctor Who_ Father Time - Lance Parkin [90]
‘Miranda,’ the Doctor began, edging forward.
‘Stay away,’ she told him. She shrugged Ferran off her. ‘And you get off me, too.’
Ferran was following her into the hallway. The Doctor hurried after them, and Debbie tagged along. ‘It’s fate,’ Ferran called after her. ‘It’s in your blood. It’s who you are.’
Miranda shook her head. ‘I don’t want any of this.’ She unlocked the front door and opened it.
Ferran grabbed at her as she stepped over the threshold, catching the scruff of her shirt. ‘You’re not going anywhere. I’m right. I’ll make you see that I’m right.’
Miranda turned and punched him in the face.
Caught out, he reeled, but he recovered quickly. He drew a knife – the knife, Debbie thought – and lurched towards Miranda.
Debbie had time only to register the knife (another part of her brain seeing that the Doctor was already moving to help). Miranda’s eyes were wide.
But the Doctor had been expecting the attack, and caught his wrist. He pulled him over, and Ferran lost his balance as he stumbled over the doorstep.
Ferran tried to pull free, but the Doctor squeezed his wrist. Ferran was wearing a bangle, which was covered in what looked like buttons and lights.
There was an electronic sound, which built and built to a crescendo.
‘Wait!’ Ferran shouted, ‘the co-ordinates aren’t set!’
Miranda stood back. The Doctor let go.
Ferran was surrounded by a shimmering blue aura. He was sprawled over the doorstep, holding his hands up as though it was trapping him and he could use the knife to cut himself free. Already he wasn’t quite there. Debbie couldn’t describe where he was: there just wasn’t the vocabulary for it, at least not in English. An instant later, he had gone completely.
The Doctor was heading towards his daughter. ‘You’re safe now,’ he said, the relief obvious. ‘We’re safe.’
Miranda backed away. ‘No,’ she said. She stayed outside, in the sunshine. ‘You lied to me. You... I can’t stay here.’ She hesitated for a moment, then turned on her heels, started running up the drive.
‘Miranda!’ the Doctor pleaded, but she didn’t even look back.
And then the Deputy was blocking Miranda’s way, aiming a pistol at her chest. He’d been hiding in the bushes.
The Doctor’s eyes were wide. ‘Keep away from her!’
The Deputy smiled. ‘So, Ferran failed in his mission?’ Miranda was slowly backing away: he was still at point-blank range.
‘Your dispute is with me,’ the Doctor said.
‘My duty is to kill the Last One.’
The Doctor smiled, relaxed. ‘Zevron and Ferran called blood feud on her, not you. You’re just working for them. But you declared blood feud on me. Remember? Just after you watched your Prefect die, just after I’d beaten you.’
Sallak stepped out of Miranda’s way, to get a clearer view of the Doctor. Miranda hurried past him.
‘I’ll come for you, girl.’ He aimed his gun squarely at the Doctor.
Miranda stopped about ten yards away from the Deputy, looking hack, seeing how she could help.
‘Go,’ the Doctor said softly.
The Deputy smiled at the Doctor.
‘The universe will thank me for this, Doctor.’
‘Will it, now?’ the Doctor spat. ‘It’ll send you a card, will it? A thank-you note? Don’t flatter me, Deputy, and don’t flatter yourself.’
There were sirens. The police were coming.
‘It’s over, Sallak,’ the Doctor said. ‘You must have tripped an alarm when you came over the wall.’
The Deputy ignored him.
‘Your line ends here,’ the Deputy spat. ‘I’ll kill you, then I’ll kill your daughter.’
The Doctor cast a worried glance towards Miranda, who was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to do next. Debbie entertained the idea of throwing herself between the Deputy and the Doctor. Taking the bullet for him, like a minor character in a cop video.
The Deputy took a step forward, his face like that of a predator waiting to pounce: weighing up his options, deciding how to do it. In the films, gunmen like this held their pistols at arm’s length, and all the hero had to do was bat it out of their hand, but