Doctor Who_ Warlock - Andrew Cartmel [103]
As they crossed the lawn back towards the big farmhouse he noticed Maxine was walking unusually close beside him. When she spoke it was in a low, confidential voice, as though she was afraid of being overhead. ‘What do you think happened?’
Sean shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe Dieter miscalculated their dosage. Maybe the drug was so strong it just fried their brains.’
‘No, I meant what do you think happened to Tommy?’
‘I think he must have finally flipped out,’ said Sean.
‘How is Pam taking it?’
‘Dieter’s got her under heavy sedation at the moment. She isn’t in much better shape than those three back there.’
‘Do you think Tommy killed himself?’
Sean shrugged again. ‘It would be a pretty weird way of going about it. Electrocuting yourself in shallow water.’
‘It’s pretty weird for an accident, too.’ They both fell silent for a moment. ‘How many animals did we lose?’ said Maxine.
‘Just one dog and one cat. They came from the new acquisitions. There were five of them. The other two cats are still locked up in the lab. The black bitch is still secure in the barn. She was on heat and I was going to take her into Canterbury tonight. Attract some more stock.’ He sighed. ‘I suppose I’m just going to have to find them.’
‘How do you think they got out?’
‘Tommy must have opened their cages.’
‘That doesn’t sound like Tommy.’
Sean was studying the tree‐line on the hill behind the lab. Speculating about the missing animals, no doubt. ‘What else could have happened?’
Despite the warmth of the autumn afternoon, Maxine shivered. ‘I don’t know,’ she said.
* * *
You run.
You run with your own voice ringing in your ears. You are crying out at the top of your lungs, because at last you have escaped from the place of terror and you are free.
You shout your freedom to the wide winds and you run as fast as you can, the wet grass feeling wonderful and cool on your fleet bare feet.
You burst forth, escaping from the cold dead building into the soft living world. The ground kisses your feet. You flee, shouting joyfully, from the place of pain. You run naked across the cool damp grass into the endless clean air of the day.
And you gasp in the cold air like drinking cold water from a swift running stream. You hold your mouth open so the air rushes in over your strong jagged teeth. Your tongue pulses, shedding heat and you drink the cold flowing air and you run and run and shout with joy, grinning a savage, happy grin.
Free.
You race towards the crest of a hill, nose low to taste a million smells. Gorgeous wafts of lavender coming to you from half a mile away to intoxicate your senses.
You bound up the hill towards the magic glowing globe of an orange sun. The low evening sun looks like it sits on top of the hill in easy reach, like a giant orange ball.
Many are the times you’ve chased that ball, but always it moves as you race up the hill towards it. Always the magic ball lifts away into the sky and eludes you. Hanging there, mockingly out of reach. No matter how red and low it gets you can never quite catch it, no matter how fast you run. Finally it vanishes in a dark sky to be replaced with the equally elusive silver ball.
But today you have a feeling you might manage to catch the hot orange ball. The memories of the place of pain are already fading. Even the details of your escape are fading and all that remains is a powerful lingering euphoria inside you. You can’t remember what caused it but you feel wonderful and your blood is fuelled with joy. You don’t question where that joy came from. You just let it carry you on, faster than you’ve ever run before.
All that you can think of now is that great orange ball that lies ahead at the brow of the scented green hill, cool and sweet beneath your racing feet. Your feet fly along, doing your thinking for you. The orange ball fills your attention and carries you up the hill. The excitement of escape is transforming inside you, changing into the excitement