Doctor Who_ Wolfsbane - Jac Rayner [26]
She was used to seeing the same few faces day after day after day, so was almost surprised to see someone new.
Almost surprised, because she had little energy left for any emotion that wasn‟t related to pain or fear, but this new man came close to intriguing her. There were moments, when the others were talking, lecturing, demonstrating, and he was looking at her, when she could almost think his eyes showed compassion towards her. Then he would switch back to whatever the other men were saying and seem absorbed in it.
He almost scared her more than the others; he seemed so intense. He was an imposing looking man, hugely tall with those staring eyes and a wild mass of dark curls. He wore a scarf of brilliant red tartan, and although she still found it hard to distinguish one British accent from another, she did not think he sounded as if he came from Scotland.
The men were explaining the project to him. He was obviously in the know already - he did not seem surprised in the slightest to hear them talk about the possibility of an upcoming war, but seemed happy to let them tell him everything anyway.
„There are always those willing to commit suicide,‟ said a man, which is invaluable. But the disadvantage is that they cannot, obviously, be used more than once.‟
„You could raise them as zombies,‟ said the mad-eyed man.
„Isn‟t that the sort of thing you do?‟
The others seemed not to know whether to laugh or discuss this bizarre suggestion seriously. After a few hmms, they apparently decided upon brief, unamused laughter.
She suddenly realised that this man - this new man who seemed to be mocking them without their knowledge - it was his voice she had heard somewhere outside her door, minutes or perhaps weeks ago. She looked up at the window, through the bars: it was still snowing. Minutes then, perhaps.
„So far she has been stubborn,‟ one of the hated men said.
„But we will find a way to force the change eventually.‟
„Ah yes,‟ the new man said, „I‟m sure you will. Humans can force almost anything if they try hard enough.‟ He smiled to show he meant it as encouragement, but the rest of his body was saying: I despise you, I do not wish you well. „Perhaps I could see the test results now; I have a theory or two that might help.‟
He might be from her own country, she thought, a saboteur. But although he hadn‟t looked her in the eye, had treated her like an object as they all did, he hadn‟t shrunk away from her. The others were wary of her, every single one of them, whatever brave show they put on. But not this man.
The men all left, even the Tartan man. She didn‟t try to speak to him, there was no point. If he could help her, he would; if that was not what he was here for then no words of hers would make a difference.
She remembered that counting snowflakes had amused her, for a while. She looked up at the window and started again from one.
Harry just kept climbing. Couldn‟t call it walking, it wasn‟t that straightforward. He didn‟t know any more what direction he was going in, or what time of day it was. He thought he was still following the Doctor, but didn‟t even know that for sure. His whole life was reduced to making the next step, finding the next gap. And he was rapidly getting out of puff.
He thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, whirled round in alarm and fell backwards over a root. There was no one there, it had been a leaf, or a branch. He scrambled to his feet and forged ahead - or what he thought was ahead -
again. He‟d wrapped the Doctor‟s massive scarf around his face to protect it from scratches - hoped the Doctor wouldn‟t be too cross at all the snags in the wool. He‟d tucked as much