Doctor Who_ The Taint - Michael Collier [74]
He went inside, and stood very, very still, as if listening to something. Then his frown of concentration eased into a self-satisfied smile.
'That'll be of use,' he said to himself.
***
It turned out that Azoth's and Tarr's Batcave was in Bethnal Green.
Wonderful spot for a secret base, thought Sam. A dump out East. Seemed her neck of the woods attracted all manner of extraterrestrials. Obviously the place to be.
That said, she wished right now she could be anywhere but here. Every passer-by, every man, woman and child, was simply covered in bloated monsters. They were floating lazily in midair, anchored by those horrible nozzle-like mouths. One boy walked by, holding his mum's hand, and she could barely see him for the creatures that were swarming all over him. But, for some reason, the sight that distressed her most was of a golden retriever trotting alongside its master, it too surrounded and smothered by ghostly alien life. A pigeon flapped through the air, two of the creatures seemingly holding it up by its wings.
Each living thing completely unaware. All going about their business as normal, their heads, bodies and limbs a breeding ground for these fat balloons of shadowy flesh, little horns ridging over the pale button eyes. A bus went past, a big red double-decker. Every face at every window was obscured by the alien sucklings.
They were the Beast... She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. She should call them the Beast.
The terror that had gripped her so badly before began to seep back into her. She started shivering. Her head began to swim. Her throat felt tight, and saliva began to pump into her mouth.
Tarr poked her. 'What can you see?'
'I think I'm going to be sick,' she said.
Tarr wasn't having it. 'Tell me what you can see!'
'It's... These things are everywhere. It's absolute, bloody hell, OK? They're all over us. Everywhere .'
She heaved, and was sick on the pavement. People turned to look at her, and Tarr backed away automatically.
It wasn't a good chance, but it seemed the only one she was likely to get.
Sam took advantage of his increased distance from her to run like the very hell she'd just described.
He shouted after her. He was following her. Now it was just her speed against his. But she still felt so nauseous...
Clutching her stomach, looking down at the pavement and barging through the crowds, Sam ran for her life.
***
From the landing, Watson watched Mrs Kreiner and her boy negotiate the splintered front door and walk through the hallway. He nodded to himself, and went down the stairs.
The first step was to make this house secure. They would need a base of operations, and this house would do very well, for now. He lifted the heavy oak door with only a little difficulty, and hefted it back into its frame. Then he took hold of one of the wrought-iron hinges, pressed it against the point where door met frame, and concentrated.
He smiled. It was working. The iron began to grow hot under his fingers, red hot. He felt his skin crackle and brown as the iron melted, fusing into the wood, holding the door in place with a molten seal.
He cried out, finally, and pulled his smoking hand away. Then, after a few seconds, he grasped the other hinge, pulled it from the frame, repositioned it and repeated the process.
He looked at his hand, charred and bleeding, and blew on it, softly, watching the metal cool and go brittle. Then he brushed the iron splinters away from the skin, like snowflakes.
His hand would mend in a short while. Of course it would.
The second step was to recruit, to swell the ranks. Lucy would take Russell. He would take the old woman.
***
The girl was weakening. Tarr could tell. He was gaining on her.
Why then was he slowing down?
Eventually, he stopped altogether, and watched as she scrambled on to a bus that