Doctor Who_ Sleepy - Kate Orman [17]
‘Eep,’ said Benny. ‘I hope this doesn’t mean our help is a sort of insult.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Zaniwe elbowed her in the back.
‘Go to sleep.’
Couldn’t get the canopy open.
Chris was dreaming that he was walking through the forest. In the dream, he was wading through water that was almost knee deep, struggling to move his legs and keep his eyes open, the way you do in dreams.
Got caught in the blast.
It became harder and harder to keep battling along in the darkness. He banged his foot onto something and tripped over.
When he woke up, he was astonished to find himself actually in the forest.
‘Whoa,’ he said out loud. ‘Brain check.’
He flinched at the volume of his voice. It was nearly pitch black; the tops of the trees were defined by the stars they blocked out.
Finagle’s nostrils! Where was he? And what was he doing out here? Sleepwalking? He couldn’t remember ever having done that before. How long had he been wandering about like this?
His bare feet were soaked with dew, and he was freezing cold. He was just wearing the stuff he’d gone to sleep in, a Jets T-shirt with a huge hole under one arm and a pair of old tracksuit pants. The last thing he remembered was muttering
‘Lights off’. They’d been staying in the TARDIS, for once; the colony just didn’t have room for them.
Chris squinted. Was that a glimmer of light through the trees? It must be the habitat dome, or one of the surrounding buildings. The TARDIS was parked barely fifty metres from the base, an odd blue bump in the even field. He set off in the general direction of the light.
He jumped back as a low-hanging frond brushed against his face. He reached out to the celery-stick tree, leaned against it while he got his balance back.
A flash of heat so huge it went right through him, from one side to the other. Flame blossomed across his skin as his fur kindled. He tried to scream, but his mouth was full of fire.
He ought to be safe in the TARDIS. Safe from anything.
If he had to, he’d just stay there. There was no point in making a fuss about it. He might not be much use to anyone, but he’d just stay inside.
Chris!
He whirled around, fingernails raking at the juicy bark of the tree. ‘Who’s there?’ he yelled, like a frightened kid.
But there wasn’t anyone there. He frowned.
‘There’s no point in making a fuss about it,’ he told himself, and set off for the TARDIS.
Benny poked her head out of the tent. ‘It’s stopped raining,’
she said.
Zaniwe and Jenny muttered and stretched as the archaeologist climbed out, glad of her big coat. The ground was soaked, the stones slick with water. The waterfall had swollen, sending great clouds of spray into the air. The morning light was refracted through the drifting droplets.
She unzipped the front of her tube tent. Water rushed out in a puddle around her boots. She looked down in disgust.
‘D’you think it’s fixable?’ said Zaniwe, wriggling free of the tent. ‘No offence, but I don’t think I want to play sardines again...’
Benny grimaced, kneeling down by the side of the tube.
‘I’ve got a patch kit, but they’re not very large. I’ll try putting a couple on.’
‘Wait until after breakfast,’ said Zaniwe, yawning hugely.
‘Ration cubes once more,’ said Jenny, emerging.
‘Scrumplicious,’ said Zaniwe, sticking out her tongue.
‘We can heat them up a bit, I guess.’
‘Can we eat any of the native plants without our heads exploding?’ said Benny, dragging her sodden sleeping-bag out of the tent.
‘We don’t have the list of edible species with us,’ said Jenny shortly. ‘Ration cubes it is.’
Benny hung her sleeping-bag over a tree branch to dry while Zaniwe cranked up the portable electric stove. If only a soggy sleeping-bag and an unappetizing breakfast were the worst problems on the planet.
She tugged at the tube tent’s support lines. Maybe this was the reason the Doctor had asked her to come out here
— nothing more sinister than realizing she needed a bit of a break. A spot of fresh air and a bit of rummaging about in some interesting alien ruins. She could