Doctor Who_ Prime Time - Mike Tucker [37]
Ace gripped Gatti’s arm. She could feel the girl tensing, ready to run, but they weren’t outside the gates yet. They were tantalisingly close, but running too early could ruin everything.
Ahead of them commissionaires were collecting visitors’
passes, letting the huge crowd of girls back out on to the street in a steady, orderly stream. Ace could see the commissionaire she and the Doctor had had their run in with sitting in his glass booth.
She pulled Gatti close. ‘Keep your head down and watch me. When I nod, we leg it.’
Gatti nodded. ‘I’ve got my dad’s spinner parked by the perimeter wall.’ She held the keys up.
Ace grinned. ‘Right. Here we go.’
The line of girls moved ever closer to the gates.
Commissionaire Gurney suddenly looked up, straight into Ace’s face.
There was a moment of stunned recognition. Then he started to haul himself from his seat. Ace swore under her breath.
‘Come on Gatti!’
The two girls exploded towards the gate, pushing at the crowd in front of them. There were screams of indignation.
Ace could see commissionaires reaching for her.
She ducked her head down and shouldered her way forward. One of the scarlet-uniformed guards gave a grunt of pain as she swung her rucksack into his stomach. The gates were starting to close.
With a final effort Ace hurled herself, through the narrowing gap. Gatti was right on her heels, her hair streaming out behind her. Ace could hear shouts from behind her, but the road was wide and clear and soon the two girls had left the Channel 400 building far behind them.
Lukos switched off the videophone in his desk and turned to Rennie Trasker.
‘Our young friends have made their dramatic escape from the studio. I believe that you’re on, my dear.’
Chapter Ten
Greg Ashby groaned and tried to force his crusted eyes apart.
The light overhead was painfully bright. He screwed his eyes up again. His entire body ached, needles of pain stabbing at him.
Slowly he opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness.
Beyond the glare he could see nothing, just blackness.
He tried to move, but something was pinning him down.
He was on some sort of couch, strapped down. He tried to twist himself around but waves of pain and nausea flowed over him and he slumped back.
He licked at his cracked lips. He remembered the car park, remembered those... things swooping down on them and then... nothing.
There was a noise from the darkness, a shuffling.
‘Eeji Tek?’
He tried to twist himself around, straining at his bonds.
There was another bench alongside him and he could see a shadowed shape in the gloom.
‘Eeji Tek, is that you?’
He tried to twist his head further. The shape was definitely Eeji Tek. He could just make out the distinctive shape of the Monteekan’s skull.
‘Eeji!’
The chamber was suddenly flooded with light. Greg screamed. All that remained of the Monteekan was a head, the blue skin tom and bloodied, deep gouges in the skull. The entire disembodied head was clamped into a surgical brace with pulsing clear pipes winding from the severed neck.
There was a chuckle from behind him.
‘I’m afraid that our Zzinbriizi friends didn’t leave much.’
Greg struggled wildly against his restraints, trying to ignore the pain.
‘There really is no point. You are quite secure.’
Greg could feel his heart pounding, the room was starting to spin, the pain was overwhelming. He collapsed back on to the bench.
His unseen tormentor emerged into the pool of light. Greg recoiled in horror. The figure was swathed in dank heavy robes with arm-thick pipes trailing from beneath them and snaking off into the shadows. Its features were shadowed by a cowl, but Greg could see scarred weeping skin and a twisted quivering mouth. The nail-less hands clenched and unclenched as the creature shuffled towards him.
‘Who are you? What the _________ have you done to Eeji Tek?’
The creature chuckled horribly. ‘We did nothing, we would