Doctor Who_ Warchild - Andrew Cartmel [43]
That was the sound she’d been hearing following on each chorus of howls. But suddenly Benny had the oddest feeling that it hadn’t been following the howls. It had been preceeding them.
As if the howls were in response to the movements of the man. Benny stared at the face in the liquid.
‘He’s alive, then?’ she asked.
‘Of course he’s alive,’ said the Doctor testily. He was kneeling on the floor, punching buttons at the base of the cylinder. ‘It’s a life-support tank. He’s always been alive.’ The Doctor frowned at the control panel then, satisfied with his adjustments, scrambled nimbly to his feet. He smiled at Benny, excitement showing in his eyes. Then he turned and patted the glass, his hand just above the pale face.
‘Jack was always alive,’ said the Doctor. ‘He just wasn’t...
here.’
‘And now he’s back?’
The Doctor leant closer and peered into the thick liquid of the tank, as if meeting the blind idiot stare of its occupant.
‘I think he’s on his way.’
Chapter 17
Creed parked his car in the wide empty lot outside the Agency and sat for a moment looking up at the big white building. He sensed that he was about to set out on a course of action which would change his life.
Reaching to open the car door he hesitated, his hand pausing in mid-air. Thoughts of Justine and the kids began to surface in his mind. Then thoughts of his son, Ricky.
But of course Ricky wasn’t really his son. And Ricky knew that now. Thanks to Justine.
Hot steady hatred flowed into Creed’s heart as he thought of Justine. Then all thoughts of her faded from his mind. He opened the car and got out. He walked through the parking lot, past a disgusted-looking kid in overalls. The kid was getting plumbing equipment out of the back of a van.
Creed thought he was probably pissed off about being called out for a repair job on Saturday night. Who could blame him?
Besides the van there wasn’t another vehicle in sight.
The sensors in the lobby read Creed’s pheromone signature while the computer checked the barcode on his identity card.
Then the doors opened automatically, and let him into the big area in front of the elevators. He walked across the Agency logo set in the cool marble floor, past the empty desk where the security guard sat during the week, and stepped into the elevator.
As he rose he checked the computer in the elevator.
There was a skeleton maintenance staff and a few other eager-beavers working the weekend shift. But up on their floor, he and Amy would be quite alone.
He hoped she would be waiting for him when he stepped out of the elevator. But when he got there the carpeted corridor was quiet.
He hurried along it and through the glass doors into his office. He remembered Amy pushing through those same doors on her first morning, with melting snow on her parka.
He walked through the maze of low walls that separated the desks in the big open office. The place was quiet, dim, empty. Beyond the tall narrow windows the sky was fading to the magnificent bruised purple of a summer night. Light glowed in a distant corner of the office.
Amy was sitting there in front of a computer with the pale screen-light shining on her face. He saw her dark eyes locked on to the screen, shadows over her high cheek-bones, the corner of her tongue straying out of her mouth as she squinted at the computer. She looked like a child lost in concentration and Creed’s heart turned over.
He realized that he didn’t know what he was going to say to her. But then she turned and saw him and he saw the look of startled delight on her face and he knew it didn’t matter what he said.
‘You came,’ she said. Then, ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘Well, you promised me free beer,’ said Creed. ‘Who wouldn’t come?’
‘There’s one in the fridge,’ said Amy, jumping up eagerly to get it. As she rose out of her chair she smashed her knee against the corner of the desk and winced with pain.
‘Ow.’
‘That was clever.’ Creed reached out and touched her