Something in the Water

by Trevor Baxendale

  Ianto had taken cover behind a bench, firing at the remaining water hags, trying to hold them off. No matter how many carefully aimed shots he used, they refused to die. ‘Alien anatomy,’ Ianto muttered in disgust as he hurriedly snapped a fresh magazine into the H&K. ‘You can never be sure which bit to shoot at, can you?’

  Gwen stepped over the bench and dropped down beside him. ‘Jack’s gone after Saskia,’ she said. ‘Can you hold them here?’

  Ianto nodded. ‘I can try. No promises, mind.’

  Gwen nodded, got up and ran down towards the sea front.

  ‘Which way did they go?’ she asked Toshiko.

  ‘Down towards Mermaid Quay, I think. They’re in a CCTV black spot. I’ve lost them both.’

  Gwen swore and hurried on. The pain in her hand was terrible now, a momentous throb of agony that kept distracting her. She stopped, hunched over, fighting back the urge to sob and wail, knowing she had to concentrate and do the job. But she could hardly move for the pain; she could hardly think.

  She stumbled on a few paces. ‘Jack? Jack, are you here?’

  There was no reply except for the sound of the water washing against the quayside. She slumped down against the side of the building, feeling cold and utterly alone. Her hand was burning, but she was starting to shiver as the cold wind came in off the bay and cut right through her denim jacket.

  ‘Jack?’ she called out again, but her voice sounded very small and the word was carried away into the night by the wind.

  Slowly she lifted a hand to her ear. ‘Tosh? Toshiko? Are you there?’

  Silence.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  She heard footsteps pounding along the boardwalk and opened her eyes to see Owen arrive, breathing hard. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Jack’s after Saskia,’ Gwen told him faintly. ‘Tosh saw them heading for the waterfront. I can’t find them, and now I can’t get a reply from Tosh either. What’s happening?’

  Owen collapsed next to her against the Tourist Information kiosk, his breath coming in harsh, ugly gasps. ‘Dunno. The water hags won’t stay down when we shoot ’em. How unfair is that? Ianto’s trying to pin them back, but he won’t be able to keep it going for ever.’

  ‘We’re stuffed, aren’t we?’

  He rested his head against the wood and closed his eyes. ‘Give me a second and then I’ll try to find Jack. He might know what to do.’

  ‘Stay here, you’re done in,’ advised Gwen.

  ‘What about you?’ he panted, nodding at her hand. ‘You’re injured.’

  ‘It’s nothing, I’ll live.’

  Owen shook his head. There was too much blood. When Gwen glanced down she saw that her T-shirt was soaked in it and the sight almost made her faint.

  ‘Let me see it,’ Owen said, dropping his MP5 on the ground.

  Carefully, Gwen pulled her hand out from under her arm. The blood had started to congeal and her T-shirt stuck momentarily to the flesh, making her gasp as it came free.

  Owen already had his medical kit out, unwrapping a field dressing with trembling fingers. Gwen cried out as her turned her hand over, examining the deep cut along the edge with a tut. ‘Nasty. Could’ve been worse – missed an artery by half an inch.’

  ‘Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel any better …’

  Owen pressed the dressing against the wound and then began to wind adhesive tape around it. ‘This’ll stop it bleeding, but you’re going to need stitches.’ He looked up at her and smiled coldly. ‘For you, my dear, ze var is over.’

  ‘What about you? What happened down in the Hub?’

  Owen avoided her eyes then, looking quickly down at her hand as he worked. The smile faded. ‘Tosh came up with a serum – some sort of vaccine. God knows what she was thinking of, she’s no doctor. Educated guess, I suppose – and the best person for it. Made the homunculi emerge early.’

  Gwen watched his face carefully. It was twitching in a way she knew only too well – Owen was being forced into talking about something he didn’t want to even think about.

  He still wouldn’t look at her as he fished out a morphine syrette from his kit, pulled the cap off with his teeth and jabbed it quickly and expertly into her arm.

  ‘Ow,’ she said.

  ‘Painkiller.’

  ‘You could have fooled me.’

  ‘Always do.’

  ‘What happened to the homunculi?’

  Owen stopped for a moment, hesitated, and then packed away the rest of the medical kit. ‘Dead.’

  Gwen thought back to Jack, raising his boot so that Saskia could see the bloody detritus in the treads. She felt sick.

  ‘Still,’ Owen said, finally looking up at her and rewarding her with that sudden, cheeky smile, ‘Better out than in, eh?’

  ‘Saskia Harden!’

  They heard Jack’s voice calling out from somewhere behind them. Owen helped Gwen up, and together they limped down to the quayside.

  Further along, next to the railings overlooking the bay, stood Jack. His coat swirled in the freezing wind coming in off the water, but otherwise he stood rock still, as if he was challenging the elements themselves.

  Of Saskia there was no sign – until a dark blur appeared out of the night air and struck Jack square in the chest, lifting him right off his feet. He hit the ground and rolled, coming up on all fours, ready for the next assault.

  The water hag leapt on him with a savage growl, talons raking the air, missing him by a fraction of an inch as Jack twisted away, but not quickly enough – the next slashing sweep caught him on the shoulder and tore right through the heavy material of his greatcoat.

  He used the impact to dive further, hit the ground again and jumped to his feet. At the same time, he threw off the greatcoat, wrapping it around one forearm as a bulky shield to absorb the next lash with the talons. He just about made it, as Saskia was on him with another series of wild, flailing attempts to rip his head clean off.

  Eventually, Jack was able to drop his body, swinging his boot up so that it connected with the water hag’s throat and sent her flying backwards. Jack stumbled, shirt hanging in tatters off one arm, blood running down from his shoulder. Saskia rounded on him again, exchanging furious blows and snarls, until Jack swung under one of the swinging claws, punched her hard in the kidney area, and then flung her in a judo throw high over his shoulder to land with a splintering crash on the boardwalk.

  Saskia scrambled back onto her feet, eyes blazing, but stationary.

  Jack stood, his shirt in shreds, blood streaming from multiple cuts and slashes over his shoulders, chest and face.

  For a minute, the two of them stood where they had landed, glaring at each other, waiting to see who would make the next move. Jack was panting hard but Saskia still looked fresh. Then her grey-green flesh suddenly rippled, and she resumed her appearance as a striking blonde human woman.

  A striking, blonde, naked human woman.

  ‘Oh, I bet you do that to all the boys,’ said Jack. Even from behind, Gwen could tell in his voice that he’d summoned that boyish grin of his, the one that, combined with his looks and blue eyes, could charm a nun out of her habit.

  ‘By the way,’ Jack continued, beginning to get his breath back, ‘Saskia Harden or Sally Blackteeth? If we’re gonna get to know each other better, I need to know which one is your real name.’

  ‘Neither.’ She started to walk towards him, controlled, poised. Ready for the contest.

  ‘I bet your real name’s unpronounceable by human beings,’ Jack said. ‘They usually are.’

  Saskia spat something which sounded like a cross between a curse and someone choking on custard.

  ‘Nice name,’ Jack said. ‘Prefer Saskia, though.’

  She stopped short of him by just a couple of metres. ‘So this is it, is it, Jack?’

  He drew his revolver and pointed it at her head. ‘Stay where you are.’

  ‘Too close for comfort?’

  ‘Close enough. I never kiss on a
first date anyway.’

  ‘So what are you going to do? Shoot me where I stand?’

  ‘If I have to.’ Jack let out a sigh, a tiny wisp of breath that disappeared on the breeze. ‘But I’d rather give you the chance to leave. Just go.’

  ‘That could be a problem.’ She was standing so close to him now, her nakedness contrasting with his torn clothes and boots. ‘I have nowhere else to go. I’m hopeless. Strepto is gone – just disappeared.’

  Jack raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  ‘So it’s Earth or nothing, I’m afraid.’

  ‘It can’t be Earth,’ said Jack. ‘So that leaves nothing.’

  ‘Or somewhere in between,’ Saskia replied. Then she simply turned, stepped up to the edge of the quay in one smooth motion and leapt out into the bay.

  Jack roared, ‘No!’ He darted forward, just in time to see her disappear beneath the waves. Immediately he hurled his greatcoat away and removed his boots.

  ‘Jack, don’t be stupid!’ yelled Gwen, catching up with him.

  ‘She’s gone! Let it go!’ Owen added furiously.

  Jack glanced back at them, just the once, and his eyes were ice cold. Then he turned, threw his arms above his head and dived off the quayside. He hit the churning water like an arrow and vanished beneath the dark, uncaring surface.

  Gwen stared, open-mouthed. ‘What did he do that for?’

  ‘You know Jack,’ Owen panted. ‘Never gives up.’

  ‘I can’t see him anywhere!’

  They watched the cold swell of the ocean but there was no sign of either Saskia or Jack.

  ‘The currents are strong around here,’ Owen said. ‘They could’ve been dragged right down into the bay.’

  They heard footsteps and turned to see Ianto coming up, Heckler & Koch slung over his shoulder. His face was smudged and dirty and his hair was a mess. ‘It’s no use,’ he told them, his voice ragged. ‘I couldn’t hold them off. The bullets just wouldn’t stop them.’

  ‘Where are they now?’ Owen asked.

  ‘Heading for the water tower. They’re circling it.’ Ianto swallowed hard. ‘Where’s Jack?’

  Gwen pointed out at the bay but, before Ianto could respond, Toshiko’s voice came through: ‘Everyone! Listen! We have an emergency in the Hub – repeat, an emergency in the Hub.’

  ‘What’s up?’ Gwen asked.

  ‘I think something’s coming through the Rift,’ Toshiko said. She was trying to keep calm, but there was no mistaking the shrill edge of panic in her voice. ‘It’s coming through right into the Hub. Lots of things … I can see something in the water … Oh no, they’re in the water …’

  ‘It’s them,’ Ianto said. ‘The water hags. They’ve got inside the Hub.’

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  The water closed over his head like a coffin lid, shutting out every sight and sound.

  It was cold, black, silent. For a few seconds, Jack let the current sweep him along, turning him over and over, letting the icy grasp of the water wash away the blood and the fear. Then, catching sight of a lithe, blonde figure in the darkness beneath him, Jack started to move. With strong, urgent strokes he pulled himself deeper, ignoring the flurry of weed and debris which caught in his arms and legs.

  Saskia swam deeper, using a strange, alien motion reminiscent of an eel. Her blonde hair transformed into long, trailing weeds, and her skin took on its native, muddy texture.

  Jack followed her, lungs and muscles aching as he hauled himself further down. She was disappearing into the murk. If he didn’t keep up, he would lose her for ever. Teeth gritted, he swam harder, aware that it was getting colder and colder the deeper they went. If he drowned down here, what would happen? The current would take him, wash him up some place, leave him to choke and gasp like a landed fish until life flooded back into him yet again. There would be no escape for him down here; but he wouldn’t let Saskia escape either.

  He found her floating in front of him. She loomed out of the darkness like the ghost of a drowned woman, her hair waving around her head like a living thing, part blonde, part weed. Her face was human and beautiful – until she smiled, revealing a mouthful of hundreds of sharp, needle teeth.

  She grabbed him, pulled him closer as if she was going to kiss him, jaws opening like those of a shark. Jack lashed out, grabbing her around the throat before she could bite, pushing her back, trying to keep her at arm’s length.

  A plume of bubbles broke from his lips as Saskia whipped back and forth, trying to break his grip. Jack swallowed water, clamped his lips shut, pulled back his fist and tried to break her jaw. But he couldn’t fight properly underwater. No one could.

  No one except a water hag, a creature born to live in the water as easily as out of it. A creature infamous for luring innocent humans underwater, dragging them down to their deaths.

  They pelted down the secret passageway leading from the Tourist Information kiosk, through the giant cog-wheel door, the flashing lights, the holding cage. The Hub looked all wrong. The main lights were down, and there was a dull green glow reflected from the tiled surfaces and metal walkways. In the centre of the Hub stood the base of the water tower fountain, strange, multicoloured lights shimmering across the surface.

  Toshiko was sitting at her workstation, where the screens showed a series of wildly fluctuating blue patterns, overwritten by computer graphics and equations. The others knew just enough to tell that the readings weren’t good.

  Gwen, Ianto and Owen all crowded around Toshiko, peering at the screens, firing questions.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Toshiko stammered. ‘It’s been fluctuating for some time, but this is a sudden change. Like nothing I’ve seen before – not even when the Rift was opened. This is different – as if the Rift itself is … reacting.’

  ‘Reacting to what?’ asked Owen.

  ‘Take a look,’ Toshiko replied. ‘At the tower.’

  They all looked across at the silver monolith rising up in the centre of the Hub. Heliotropic lights swirled across the tower like oil mixed with the water which streamed down the mirrored surface, sending ripples out into the pool of water at its base. But there was something causing further ripples in the water which ran vertically down the tower, as if something invisible was disturbing the flow.

  Owen and Ianto went down for a closer look. The water was trickling in specific patterns, making way for something they simply couldn’t see until Ianto pointed, and said, ‘Look – look at the shape the water’s making …’

  The water had bulged out as if running over a ball of air, but there were shapes in the bulge, moving, thrusting forward out of the mirror behind. A face – long, sharp, trailing weeds.

  ‘Water hag,’ breathed Owen.

  There were faces appearing all over the tower, spectral faces haunting the mirror.

  ‘How can we stop them?’ asked Ianto.

  ‘We can’t,’ Owen said, staring in fascinated horror as the faces grew more pronounced, more definite. He found himself looking directly into the eyes of a water hag as it began to emerge with a distinct sucking noise.

  ‘There may be a way,’ Toshiko said. ‘The water hags are all connected in some way – to the Rift, as we already know … but also to the first water hag to arrive on Earth.’

  ‘Saskia,’ said Ianto.

  ‘I’ve traced the temporal web between all the creatures,’ Toshiko confirmed, indicating a complex, ever-changing pattern on one of her computer monitors. ‘They all lead to Saskia.’

  ‘They are all her children on Earth,’ Gwen realised. ‘She said she was here first – the only survivor. This is her new generation. Preparing the way for takeover.’

  Toshiko nodded. ‘She used the Rift to travel to Earth. But it’s not a reliable method of travel. She arrived back in the Middle Ages. She knew she had to find a way to procreate – to use human beings to create more of her kind.’

  ‘Using coughs and sneezes,’ Owen said. ‘Reproduction via contagion.’

  ‘But she w
as the first one, the progenitor. She came through the Rift, and is inextricably linked to the Rift, and thus all the other water hags are inextricably linked to her.’

  ‘Which helps us how, exactly?’ demanded Ianto. There was an edge of panic in his voice as he continued to watch the water hags materialising in the stream. ‘What are they coming through here for? What do they want?’

  ‘Control of the Rift?’ suggested Toshiko. ‘Perhaps they know about the Rift Manipulator. The reproduction by contagion is a bit hit-and-miss for invasion purposes. Control of the Rift could help.’

  ‘What if it’s control of us they want?’ suggested Gwen. ‘Control of Torchwood? They know we’re the only people that can stop them.’

  ‘Were the only people,’ Owen corrected. ‘Past tense.’

  ‘Jack would know what to do,’ said Ianto.

  ‘Jack’s not here!’ Gwen yelled at him.

  He was practically blind now. They were so deep and the water was so black and murky that he couldn’t see his own hands, or the face of the creature in front of him. They were locked in a tight embrace, each trying to squeeze the life from the other, to exploit a moment of weakness neither would allow the other to sense.

  Jack felt his grip on her loosening. His fingers, cold and rigid with the effort, had long since lost any sense of feeling, but he could tell, nevertheless, that she was slipping from his grasp. It was almost as if she was dissolving before him, the constituent parts of her breaking away and turning to liquid as they fought. And then, quite suddenly, there was nothing in his arms except water and a residual cloud of mud and blood.

  He panicked. He was utterly disorientated, unable to tell what was up or down or how deep he was. If he tried swimming in any direction it could be the wrong one, taking him down further. But to allow himself to go limp, to hope that he would eventually float to the surface, would be to accept defeat. Saskia hadn’t simply dissolved. She’d escaped.

  And then there was the current, the deep swell beneath the waves that could suck him down, deeper and deeper and further away from the shore. He could feel it now, tugging at him, rippling through the freezing water all around him, clawing and dragging at him. And, in a distant part of his own mind, now as dark and cold as the water which surrounded him, he could hear the mad screech of laughter.