Doctor Who_ Wooden Heart - Martin Day [0]
by Martin Day
A vast starship, seemingly deserted, is spinning slowly in the void of deep space. Martha and the Doctor explore this drifting tomb and discover that they may not be alone after all.
Who survived the disaster that overcame the rest of the crew? What continues to power the vessel? And why has a stretch of wooded countryside suddenly appeared in the middle of the craft?
As the Doctor and Martha journey through the forest, they find a mysterious, fog-bound village – a village traumatised by missing children and prophecies of its own destruction…
Featuring the Doctor and Martha as played by David Tennant and Freema Agyeman in the hit series from BBC Television.
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Acknowledgements
Dedicated to the memory of Craig Hinton
‘He’s gone,’ said Petr in a choked whisper. ‘Just like the others…’
Kristine pushed past her husband and into the room. She wanted to see for herself.
She stared at the crumpled sheets on the bed, the pale pillow that still bore an impression of her son’s head. It looked for all the world as if Thorn had simply got up to get a glass of water – as if he was in the next room and would soon return, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
Kristine rested a hand on the bed. It was warm.
‘No,’ she said at last. ‘No, this can’t be happening. Not to us…’
‘Why should we be immune?’ asked Petro, He tried to place a consoling arm around Kristine’s waist, but she twisted free.
‘The bars you put across the windows, the lock on the door…’ There was anger in Kristine’s voice now, an anger that her silent tears could not soften.
‘We knew it might not make any difference,’ said Petro ‘The children just disappear. There’s no way of protecting them.’
Kristine shook her head. ‘How can you be so accepting of it all?’
‘I’m not,’ said Petr, an awkward tone to his voice as he struggled with his emotions. ‘But it’s like I said. Just because Thorn is the son of the elected leader, it does not make him any less vulnerable.’
‘I don’t care about the leadership,’ said Kristine. ‘I don’t care about the village. I just want my son back!’
‘I know,’ said Petro.
This time Kristine accepted his embrace; he wrapped his arms around her, muffling the tears. Her entire body shook like a slender tree caught in the wind.
Petr shook his head sadly. ‘If only this nightmare would end…’
‘How many more children are going to disappear?’ asked Kristine. ‘How many more families are going to suffer?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Petro. ‘No one does.’
‘We should ask for help.’
‘But that is not our way,’ said Petr, grateful that his wife was too weak to argue the point. ‘This… evil… will either resolve itself or…’
‘Or?’
‘Or we must hope for outside intervention. Some external factor, some miracle we have not considered – but you know we cannot make any approach ourselves.’
‘So we do nothing?’
Petr didn’t know what to say. In fact, he had tried every means at his disposal to protect the village from the gathering threat. But it was only now, after the evil had snatched away his own son, that he realised how pathetic their actions had been.
Just for a moment he thought he heard a footfall behind him – the creak of a floorboard, followed by the soft murmur of Thorn’s voice. But he knew his mind was playing tricks on him, and he wondered if Kristine was undergoing similar agonies.
‘We’re never going to see Thorn again,’ said Kristine in a voice so flat and hopeless it almost broke Petr’s heart.
Petr thought of his son – such a proud, energetic child, forever tousle-haired and impish. Would he always be like that in Petr’s mind, trapped in his youth and unable to grow older? Petr thought of Thorn’s strong hands, his clear eyes – his sheer force of will. And the arguments they’d had!
Petr would give anything in the world to have one last row with his son, just so that they could eventually come