Doctor Who_ The City of the Dead - Lloyd Rose [66]
'Oh, damn you, Fitz!' she panted. 'Just damn you! Just ' But why was she cursing Fitz? This was perfectly in character for him. And if it was such an outlandish thing to do, why had she instantly known what he was planning?
Well because, what else would he be doing? Digging potatoes? Planting winter wheat by the light of the waxing moon? Was the moon waxing? She could see it, not quite overhead and not quite full. Beyond the edges of its milky aura, the stars were brilliant. Was it in the eastern sky, which meant it would be waxing - or, wait, that was waning, wasn't it? -or - 'Oh, who cares!'
she gasped angrily. 'Who bloody cares.’
She began to be afraid she would miss the turn-off. She slowed to a walk, catching her breath. Maybe she had already missed the turn-off. Should she go back? She stamped her feet, partly in frustration, partly to warm them. If she walked miles up into the mountains looking for this stupid trail she'd probably already missed and if as a result she succumbed to hypothermia, it was all Fitz's fault. After satisfying herself with this conviction for a while she felt calmer and started trying to reconstruct her walk here earlier. She thought she remembered that the turn-off had come about ten minutes after they'd last passed a house, which meant, since an annoyingly cheerful jack o'lantern shone from a window only a few metres behind her, she wasn't there yet.
The torch she had borrowed from the inn wasn't particularly strong, and she was still nervous that she might miss the trail. She walked slowly along the left edge of the road, shining the light on the leaves and into the brush.
Fitz had gone mental. What did he think he was going to find, some revenant with claws and shark teeth, resting peacefully, its vengeance satisfied? What if it wasn't resting peacefully? All right, if it had been skulking around the countryside for the past fifteen years, people would have noticed. But that didn't mean it wouldn't be annoyed if you dug it up.
She thought of Fitz subjected to whatever had raked those walls, and suddenly she wasn't angry but frightened. She almost gasped with relief when she spotted the turn-off, and once on the trail she began to run again.
She couldn't go very fast because of having to watch for stones and roots, but she managed a steady jog. Should she call for Fitz or not? What if there were Something? If there were, she was running right at it, light in hand, a perfect target. But not enough moonlight sifted through the trees for her to dispense with the torch. There was nothing to do except keep the beam low and hope she wasn't heading straight into disaster.
She trotted into the ruined orchard. Through the trees, she spotted a glint of light. She slowed down and approached carefully, pointing her torch right at her feet. In a few minutes, she could see the sagging graveyard fence, and beyond it, by the light of a battery-operated lantern, Fitz, in his shirtsleeves, digging.
'You bastard!' she yelled.
Fitz leaped like a frightened sheep, tripped over the lantern, and fell with it out of sight.
'Fitz!' She ran forward. Her torch caught him sitting up, smeared with dirt -
he had tumbled into the hole he was digging. He winced away from the light in his eyes. 'It's me!'
'Well, who the bloody hell else would it be? Thanks for the warning!'
He hauled the lantern out of the hole and set it upright, then climbed out himself.
"Thanks for telling me what you were going to do!'
'I thought you'd think I was nuts.'
'I do think you're nuts!'
'See?' He brushed himself down, a bit sulkily. 'What are you doing here, anyway?'
'I was worried about you.'
'Why?'
'Why? You're digging up some flesh-rending ghoul and you ask me why?'
He frowned, puzzled. 'Flesh-rending ghoul?'
'The