Doctor Who_ Last of the Gaderene - Mark Gatiss [72]
Another two sprang from the water, like ship’s ballast escaping a wreck. Soon the marsh was awash with them; dozens and dozens of the ebony coffins, floating on the stinking water or coming to rest in the soft shallows.
Somewhere, the low, rattling hum from Bliss’s desk increased in pitch.
There was a strange, sticky sound coming from Mrs Toovey’s coffin. One of the old woman’s gnarled hands appeared over the edge, gripping the slick surface and hauling her upright. The vile thing clinging to her upper body reacted as she stumbled to her feet, coiling itself tighter around her throat and face. Its fierce little eyes blazed.
One after another, the coffin lids shot back, folding in on themselves and revealing their contents. Men, women and even children shuffled wetly from their caskets, orientating themselves in the black night; each and every one with a foul parasite clinging to their flesh.
John, Helen and little Nichola Trickett stepped from their confinement, their faces ghastly pale, and began wading through the shallows. The embryo within John was firmly established, warm and comfortable within his face. His wife and child still bore their infection for all to see, the creatures gradually burrowing into their mouths like fungus.
The army of villagers advanced, fetid water sluicing over them as they made their way forward, staggering like an invading army; harvested early by Bliss’s clarion call.
Slowly but surely, they made their way towards the village..
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Ninth Key
The Doctor sat in an armchair, thoughtfully chewing a knuckle. The Brigadier came through into the living room.
‘Yates is here,’ he said.
The Doctor nodded. Outside, the familiar sound of trundling trucks and jeeps formed a constant background noise.
Jo and Noah came in, holding two plates of hastily prepared corned beef sandwiches. The Doctor took one and absently stuffed into it his mouth.
‘What’s up, Doc?’ asked Jo smiling.
The Doctor smiled in return. ‘Oh, I’m just trying to think this thing through, Jo.’
He leant forward in his chair, interlacing his fingers.
‘Alien parasites. That worm creature behind the aerodrome...’
Noah shrugged. ‘What’s to work out, Doctor? The Legion people are obviously behind it all.’
‘Yes,’ nodded the Doctor. ‘But why wait this long? Surely they could have taken over the village if they’d wanted to.
And what about the Wing Commander?’
The Brigadier frowned. ‘What about him?’
The Doctor gestured towards Noah. ‘Well, he was captured according to our friend here. And then they sent someone to search the house. He seems very important to them.’
‘Because of something he knows?’ queried Noah.
‘Or something he has,’ said the Doctor.
Jo sat up, almost choking on her sandwich. ‘It couldn’t be his Spitfire, could it?’
The Doctor looked suitably astonished. ‘His what?’
Noah smiled. ‘Oh yeah. The old fella’s got a working Spitfire from the war. It’s in the garden. He usually flies it for the fête.’
The Doctor and Brigadier both seemed startled, then the former got to his feet, smoothing down the creases in his narrow black trousers. ‘I’d like to see it.’
The front door opened and Yates came inside. He saluted.
‘Ready when you are, sir.’
‘Really, Doctor,’ muttered the Brigadier, returning Yates’s salute. ‘This is hardly the time for pottering in antiquated aeroplanes. I think a frontal assault on the aerodrome will do us more good.’
‘Yes, well, as usual, you’re opting for the most obvious solution first, Lethbridge-Stewart.’
The Doctor slipped an arm around Jo’s waist. ‘Come on, Jo. Show me this aeroplane.’
The Brigadier sighed in exasperation. ‘Very well, Doctor.
While you’re playing toy soldiers I’ll see about sorting out this situation. Captain Yates...’
‘Sir?’
‘We’ll use this room as our HQ. I want to see Benton right away.’
Yates saluted smartly. ‘Right away, sir.’
He turned smartly on his heel.
Noah was already leading the Doctor towards the French windows at the back of the room. ‘We can go