Doctor Who_ The Hollow Men - Keith Topping [105]
„What the –‟ began Ace.
„I am the leader of the Wild Hunt. I have my freedom, and my instructions, which I chose to follow. Come with me.‟
Ghost or not, Ace bristled at the man‟s patriarchal conceit.
„Why should I?‟
The Hunter snorted, as if unused to dissent. His reply was to flick the reins of the horse - a big brute of a creature, more at home on a farm than a racecourse, thought Ace - and he swept down towards her.
The hooves pawed at ancient ground that was no longer there. Even so, the Hunter was swiftly at Ace‟s side. He reached down to pick her up, pulling her on to the saddle behind him.
Ace instinctively struggled against his grip, but there was little to kick against. His arm was broad and strong, but the moment she pushed against the hunter he became as substantial as a half-remembered breeze.
„Put me down!‟ she exclaimed, not used to being treated like this by anyone.
„Be not afeared,‟ pronounced the man, as the horse swept high into the air.
„I‟m not,‟ said Ace, through gritted teeth. „And why are you leaving Joanna behind?‟
The Hunter laughed. „Because,‟ he said, ‘you do not show fear. You have been chosen.‟
„Chosen?‟
„There is work to do.‟
Ace smiled for the first time. „Wicked,‟ she said.
The landscape blurred beneath the ghostly horse. The view was certainly extraordinary, the village a hive of activity as scarecrows and hunters wheeled in combat.
Ace reached down to pat the flank of the horse, but only the faintest tingling reached her hands where the creature‟s flesh should be. Pale against the dark greens of the fields, the horse‟s skin was slick with sweat, and the smell prickled at Ace‟s nostrils. If this was all an illusion, it was an extraordinarily convincing one.
Without thinking, she tried prodding the rider in the back, but her finger went right through the thick cloak and ancient armour.
„Oi,‟ she said loudly. „Where are we going?‟
„The centre of all things,‟ said the Hunter, as the horse began to plummet like an aeroplane hitting turbulence.
Ace groaned as her stomach lurched. „Fine,‟ she said.
„Wherever.‟
They were coming down towards the village green. Ace‟s eyes opened in alarm. The whole area, encircled by lanes and cottages, was open, like some great wound. The centre of the green, now a deep pit, seemed as dark as midnight. The tarlike soil was alive with the fluid, alien mass.
The horse plunged down, as if impatient to be consumed by the open mouth of the creature.
Just as they were about to reach the ground, the Hunter swivelled in his saddle, pushing at Ace with his broad hands.
Ace slipped from the horse, her hands scrabbling at thin air.
Then she fell into open space, and the pit at Jack‟s heart.
Rebecca seemed to have been walking for ever. She did not know why she had left the unconscious Trevor and walked half a mile down the road to A Taste of the Orient. Neither could she recall exactly what emotions ran through her mind as she saw the bodies of Mr and Mrs Chen, lying in pools of their own blood in the road outside.
She couldn‟t even remember what prompted her to pick up the carving knife, which lay abandoned beside the jade lions, caked with blood. She knew only that she held it in her hands, and it was good.
She stumbled back towards the Land Rover. Her feet ached and her head was full of voices.
Do it.
Do it.
As she neared the vehicle, she could see Trevor stretched out on the grass verge. He was just beginning to stir, his face bruised and lacerated from the earlier attack.
Finish him off.
The sensation of falling had been as awful as in a dream, but Ace neither woke up nor lapsed into unconsciousness as the ground hit her.
Somehow, she had landed on her feet, and was unharmed.
She felt her legs and ankles gingerly. Not a bruise.
The pit extended