Doctor Who_ Halflife - Mark Michalowski [46]
The silence was shattered by a shout from somewhere behind her: ‘The police are on their way!’ someone called out, and a half-hearted cheer went up. Trix heard the harsh music of breaking glass and knew what it was a prelude to.
The spell was broken. As if the night beast had understood the words, it took a sudden step back from Fitz, raising its massive arms from its sides. It looked around at the harsh, angry, frightened faces that surrounded it, and a low, thunderous rumble issued from its mouth.
‘It’s a warning,’ said Fitz, not moving an inch. His eyes swept the crowd, as if trying to hold them back by force of will alone. But it wasn’t enough. Trix didn’t see who started it, but suddenly the whole crowd was surging forwards, a mad beast – madder, by far, than the creature that stood in their midst.
‘Leave it alone!’ Trix suddenly found herself shouting as she grabbed at Fitz’s arm. ‘Just leave it!’
‘Get lost, alien,’ someone shouted – a woman’s voice, somewhere at the back of the crowd.
‘Yeah,’ someone else chimed in. ‘Piss off, alien!’
An elbow struck Trix’s upper arm and she yelped, pulling herself closer to Fitz as the mob swirled around her, jostling them, pushing them, but never quite hitting them. It was as if the crowd, now absolved of any individual responsibility, was toying with them – showing them its power, showing them just how much it could hurt if it wanted to. Trix didn’t know whether the display was for them or the night beast. Probably both.
‘This creature’s done no har–’ Fitz broke off with a pained oof! as someone pushed him viciously in the stomach. He staggered back, but only by a pace, colliding with another part of the mob. Angry hands pushed him back and he stumbled against Trix. She could hear mutters and shouts of ‘Aliens!’ And worse. She gripped her bag to her chest like a comfort blanket.
‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ she whispered, her voice sounding unnaturally thin and stretched. Fitz nodded, turning his head this way and that, looking for some way out. And it was only when Trix heard the creature bellow and the crowd begin to shout and scream that she knew that the people’s fury had found its target.
Suddenly, Trix felt a hand grab hers, and she was pulled away from the centre of the storm, dragging Fitz in her wake. She couldn’t see who it was, jostled and bumped by the bodies around her as she was. She felt resistance 82
in Fitz’s arm, and knew that he didn’t want to leave the creature there; knew that, however many people the creature managed to throw off or to kill, there would be others, piling in with sticks and knives and bottles. If they tried to help it, she knew too, there would be more than one body lying there in the morning. In spite of the fact that this could be the very creature that had attacked Fitz and the Doctor, Trix had never felt so cowardly, so ashamed. So shit. She let herself be half led, half dragged from the crowd, wishing she’d never set foot on this vile planet.
83
Chapter 10
‘Should you be out on your own at this time of night?’
It took a few moments for Trix to realise that the person dragging her away was the woman with the coat and the beret. She didn’t look round as she kept a firm hold on Trix’s hand, and soon they’d reached the edges of the mob.
Most of the people were heading the other way, towards the creature, and the two of them drew many looks – most just curious, but one or two openly hostile.
In the distance, Trix heard the sound of something like a steel band start up, carnival spirit juxtaposed uncomfortably with the threat of mob violence. She didn’t look back at the people heading towards the night beast: most of them didn’t actually know what was going on – but, like people across the centuries, they were sickeningly attracted to a crowd that promised a fight. Suddenly, Trix found her hand being grabbed again, and