Doctor Who_ Peacemaker - James Swallow [48]
Save her. I will stay and answer to the Great Spirit.’
Nathan’s brow furrowed as the Doctor came forward and grabbed his arm. ‘Hey Doc, what’s that redskin doin’? We’re picking up speed.’
He glanced back along the narrow trail and saw Kutter and Tangleleg 117
racing to keep up with them.
‘This is going to be bumpy,’ he said, by way of explanation. ‘Help me with Martha. Keep her steady.’ Hearing her name, the girl blinked awake. ‘Are we there yet, Tish?’ she slurred. ‘Oh, good.’
From the driver’s seat, Walking Crow called out as he grabbed the wooden lever that would apply the wagon’s brakes. ‘Go now!’ The Pawnee gave the lever a hard yank and the wagon’s wheels squealed and groaned. With a sharp, juddering jerk, the vehicle skidded and the rear end swung wide, jack-knifing across the trail leading up to the mine head. The front bar and singletree rig around the grey horse was turned so tight that it tore from its mounts and for a long second the wagon tipped up onto two wheels, before gravity snatched it back and it crashed down on its axles in a cloud of thick dust, blocking the steep-walled pass.
The vehicle bounced on its suspension as the Doctor and Nathan leapt down, taking Martha with them.
Walking Crow saw them
take her, half-running, half-stumbling toward the mine entrance. The Pawnee ducked into the wagon as the two outriders came racing up towards it, sliding to a halt in the churned dust. He heard the telltale clatter of metal on leather and knew that Kutter and Tangleleg had drawn their guns.
Walking Crow fought to still a trembling in his hands and an odd kind of calm washed over him. Ever since he’d had that first inkling of what the fallen star – the Clade – had represented, he had known that this moment would come. The Great Spirit expected him to do what had to be done, and the Pawnee finally put his fears behind him.
Lightning screamed as white fire tore into the wagon, sending out waves of flame to set the wooden panels alight.
Smoke churning all around him, Walking Crow grabbed at a leather carry-roll and tore it open. Inside was a bow and a quiver full of arrows.
Holding tight to Martha, supporting her weight on his shoulder as the Doctor did the same, Nathan twitched in shock at the sound of the Clade guns.
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‘Don’t look back,’ snapped the other man. ‘Take her, get inside.’
The boy did as he was told, hauling Martha into the cool darkness of the mine. Despite what he was told, he chanced a look back and saw the Doctor crouching at the entrance, twisting the collar on his wand contraption. Nathan’s throat tightened as he saw past him, to the makeshift blockade of the medicine wagon. It was afire and burning quickly.
‘Keep going!’ shouted the Doctor. ‘Hurry!’ He aimed the glowing blue tip of the wand at the rocky ceiling and pressed a stud; the device hummed, and in concert there was a sudden and ominous groaning from the timber supports.
Walking Crow burst out of the burning wagon with an arrow nocked and ready. He released it straight and true toward Tangleleg’s head; if he could remove just one of these creatures, then he would double the chances of survival for the Doctor and the others. . .
The shot did not miss. The arrow entered Tangleleg’s right eye and lodged there, throwing the longrider from his saddle. Walking Crow set a second arrow, but he was distracted as the outlaw got back to his feet, pausing only for a moment to snap off the length of the shaft, leaving the metal head still embedded in his skull.
The Clade gunslingers took aim at the Pawnee and sent him to meet his ancestors.
It began as a rain of dust, then a clatter of pebbles; in seconds the support pillars began to bow and flex, as rocks the size of footballs and bigger dropped from the trembling ceiling. The Doctor switched off the sonic screwdriver and ran as fast as he could down the tunnel, pulling his coat around him as sand and grit rained from above. The ground trembled like a struck drum skin, and with a monumental crash,