Doctor Who_ Rags - Mick Lewis [89]
He paused beside a black tarn and studied his reflection in the troubled waters. There was light of a kind in this dismal place; a diffused, bloody glow on the horizon that did not tempt him to seek out its cause. He realised that walking indefinitely was pointless. The doors, the walls of the truck were still there - of course they were. He was probably walking around in a circle within the back of the truck like a clockwork toy that refused to wind down. Well, perhaps it was time to stop his aimless wanderings and refuse to play the Ragman’s game. He was about to sit down beside the tarn when he saw the blue box.
The TARDIS.Waiting for him behind the black bone of a tree.And yet, of course, just another illusion. Should he waste his time checking? He would still be playing to the Ragman’s sadistic rules. Then again, the TARDIS might have responded to some summons
211
- maybe the Time Lords were coming to his aid again. It wasn’t an impossibility. Surely even their short-sighted apathy could not ignore the universal peril the Ragman presented. In fact, what society offered more of a challenge to the levelling hunger of the Ragman than the officious, hierarchical sophistry of Gallifrey?
He walked around the darkly rippling tarn, heading for the TARDIS.
Perhaps there would even be something he could lash up in the control room to help him against the Ragman. Last-minute contraptions sometimes had their place, after all.
Yates saw the purple camper van hammering along the moonlit country lane towards them, and turned to the UNIT driver.
‘Pull over, that’s the vehicle Jo was travelling in!’
The soldier obediently swung the Land Rover into the verge. The camper came on, and it must have been doing at least sixty-five on the dangerously curving roads.
Yates could see the driver of the van, and recognised him as Jo’s companion Jimmy. He could see the grey Confederate cap pulled low over the crazy eyes. Jimmy had always had crazy eyes, but now they were more bugged-out manic than ever. At the same time that Yates realised there was nobody else in the camper van, Jimmy noticed them and swung the wheel down hard right, flinging his long vehicle into a direct collision course with the UNIT Land Rover.
Yates acted instinctively. The driver was already flooring the accelerator pedal in a knee-jerk shock reaction but his hands were not working in conjunction with his feet, so the captain seized control of the Land Rover himself, frantically leaning over to grab the steering wheel.
The UNIT vehicle bounded forward in first gear as the camper van rocketed through the space they’d occupied seconds before.
Yates saw it veer manically as it slammed over the grass verge, threatening to flip over sideways into the hedge that divided the road from Salisbury Plain on the other side. Then it righted itself 212
and, without pausing, continued its hurtling journey onwards.
Soon it was around a bend in the road and gone from their sight.
‘You want us to follow it, sir?’ the driver asked, white-faced.
Yates gazed anxiously in the direction from which the camper had come. ‘No. That’s just convinced me more than ever that we need to get to Cirbury now.’
The mummer stood next to Charmagne, in front of the stone from space. He was careful to leave a distance of at least a few yards between himself and the rock, but there was nobody around with sufficient presence of mind to notice his caution. In this comfortable position he could bathe in the escalating power-flow streaming from the rock, the rock that was the focus for all the ley lines beneath the stones. The flames of rage from near and far were being stoked to a crescendo. Near was Cirbury, and far, although it was not so distant as to lose its almost tangible volatility, was Stonehenge. The hatred, the violence was rising, rising...
And the band played fast, faster...
213
Chapter Nineteen
The Doctor fitted his keys into the lock and the doors of the TARDIS swung open. He entered