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‘Come on,’ she muttered sullenly. ‘It’ll be getting dark soon.

I don’t fancy being out in these woods when it does.’

Suddenly Ace heard a zinging, zipping sound, and a chunk of bark from a tree nearby exploded into fragments and dust. They looked back to see a couple of indistinct figures in the distance through the trees.

‘Oh great,’ Ace said. ‘The bloodsports brigade.’

Michael hoiked the Doctor up, and the two of them stumbled deeper into the wood.

The past few hours, Ace realised, had taken more of a toll on her than she’d thought, and she quickly found herself tiring.

Michael was taking more and more of the Doctor’s weight.

Twigs snapped and cracked like pistol shots under their feet as they carried the Doctor through the trees. Every so often, his legs, brushing the ground, would snag on a branch, pulling them up hard, sending shots of pain through her knee. Behind them they could hear the sounds of their pursuers, crashing through the undergrowth. She drew some small comfort from the fact that they didn’t seem to be getting closer. But the throbbing in her knee increased its already frantic tempo, and she motioned for Michael to pause.

‘It sounds like they’re falling behind,’ she said through deep breaths and massaged her leg, wincing. Michael nodded.

‘But at this rate, we’ll be tiring faster than they will. What’s up with your leg?’

She shook her head dismissively. ‘It’s nothing – amateur gymnastics were never my thing.’

‘Are you going to be OK with it?’

Ace nodded, slightly embarrassed by his concern, and looked around her suddenly realising that she hadn’t the faintest idea where they were or in which direction they were heading. Great.

A few hundred feet away, only just visible through the trunks of the trees, she could see some sort of hut or shed. She pointed towards it. ‘What about that? Maybe we could take a breather in there?’

Michael looked back, listening, and shook his head. ‘If they come this way and can’t see any sign of us,’ he said, ‘that’d be the first place they’d look.’

Ace chewed her lip and looked at the Doctor, who they’d plonked down on a fallen tree trunk. His eyes were closed, his lips were moving rapidly but silently. She couldn’t work out what had happened to him: he’d been like this – only more talkative –

when she’d first disconnected him from the other sleepers aboard the ship.

‘The TARDIS!’ she suddenly said.

Michael frowned at her.

‘The TARDIS – the Doctor’s ship.’

‘The police box – right?’

‘You’ve done your research then.’

‘It’s part of UNIT folklore,’ Michael said, ignoring Ace’s sarcasm. ‘When it makes an appearance, you know there’s trouble round the corner.’

‘You really have it in for him, don’t you?’

‘Like I said – the Doctor means trouble.’

Ace felt herself flushing, defensive. ‘The Doctor sorts trouble; he doesn’t cause it.’

Michael gave a derisive snort. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’

he said – and raised his hand sharply as the sounds of pursuit cut through the still, spring air. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get moving.’

They took the Doctor’s weight between them and set off again.

‘If we can get him to the TARDIS, it might help him recuperate... or something,’ Ace finished lamely, realising that she wasn’t quite sure what the TARDIS would be able to do for him. If nothing else, he’d be safe there. She glanced over the Doctor’s slumped shoulders and saw Michael was looking at her with a sceptically raised eyebrow.

‘If it’s hidden in that hut,’ he said, ‘we might just make it.

Any further than that, and we’re gonna get caught.’ As if to underline his concerns, the three of them were spattered with ichor and fragments of bark as another shot rang out, blasting a chunk from a nearby tree.

Ace shook her head. The TARDIS was miles away, up on the hillside overlooking the village. Weighted down with him as they were, and with her knee playing merry hell, there was no way they’d make it there before they were caught. At least, she thought, looking over at the tumbled-down hut between the trees, not