Doctor Who BBCN19 - Wishing Well

by Doctor Who

  ‘What? Oh, yes, of course. Wait a minute.’ Gaskin crossed to one of the kitchen cupboards and rummaged inside. ‘Will this do?’

  He handed the Doctor a plastic Tupperware box. The Doctor looked at it in dismay. ‘Actually, I was thinking of something metal. Lead-lined, if possible.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry.’

  ‘But I’ll keep this just in case I ever come across a ham sandwich threatening to take over the world.’

  Somebody tittered. Angela had a hand over her mouth and Sadie was biting her lip. Within seconds everyone was laughing.

  And then Martha pointed at the brain and yelled for them to be quiet. ‘Look!’ she said. ‘It’s moving!’

  They all fell silent and stared. A hundred tiny filaments were moving on the surface of the stone.

  ‘That’s disgusting,’ remarked Sadie.

  The brain stirred on the table as the cilia grew into waving, worm-like fingers groping for something in the air.

  ‘What’s it doing?’ asked Angela.

  ‘It’s reacting to something,’ said the Doctor.

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  ‘Us?’

  ‘I doubt it.’

  They all heard Jess suddenly barking, loud and clear, outside. A warning.

  ‘Something’s coming,’ said the Doctor.

  The barking reached a sudden, panicky crescendo and then dropped to a whimper.

  Gaskin headed for the back door. ‘Jess!’

  The Doctor grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t go out there!’

  ‘But that’s my dog –’

  There was a terrific noise from outside, a huge crunching sound as if a tree was being uprooted. Everybody stood still, listening.

  ‘What is it?’ whispered Angela nervously.

  ‘I can’t hear Jess any more,’ said Gaskin anxiously.

  ‘What’s happened to her?’

  There was a rustling noise outside as something approached the house. Sadie yelped as the kitchen window suddenly cracked as if hit by a stone. Something pushed against the pane like the branch of a tree, and when the Doctor raised the blind the window was full of white weeds crawling all over the glass like worms, probing for some kind of opening.

  ‘Doctor!’ exclaimed Martha. ‘Back door!’

  They all turned to see the kitchen door suddenly shake as something struck it hard. The glass panel cracked and then shattered, sending broken shards right across the kitchen. A thick arm covered in luminous white weeds followed the glass, the big hand thrusting its way inside, grabbing for the door handle.

  ‘Get back!’ roared the Doctor, grabbing Sadie and pulling her out of the way.

  Sadie screamed as the large, clawed hand suddenly withdrew and something struck the door a second time, rattling it in its frame. Then, under a third impact, the door itself splintered and broke from its hinges, flying into the room with a loud crash.

  And then the creature was inside – a boiling mass of writhing weed in the shape of a man, long spines standing up from its head and 139

  shoulders. There was soil and dirt all over it, but that wasn’t what Martha noticed first.

  What she saw first was that the monster was still wearing Duncan Goode’s clothes.

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  There was pandemonium; everybody ran for the door leading out of the kitchen as the monster burst through. Weed writhed and flailed like prehensile twigs, snatching at anything within reach, tearing down cupboards and scattering crockery everywhere.

  ‘It’s after the brain!’ yelled the Doctor. ‘Don’t let it get the brain!’

  Martha was still nearest; without hesitation she scooped the stone off the kitchen table and tossed it to the Doctor. He caught it, just as the creature’s heavy fist smashed through the table, splitting the top into firewood. It roared with anger and surged forward, bludgeoning the remains of the heavy table into jagged splinters as it came.

  The Doctor ran out of the kitchen after the others, still clutching the stone. Gaskin was urging Angela upstairs, with Sadie and Martha following.

  ‘Don’t go upstairs!’ warned the Doctor.

  ‘We need the high ground, man!’ bellowed Gaskin.

  There was no time to argue. The monster crashed through the doorway into the hall, sending wood and plaster flying through the air. Its distorted bulk was too large to fit through without causing damage, but it didn’t seem to care.

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  The Doctor gritted his teeth and raced up the stairs after the others.

  ‘It’ll trap us up here!’ he told Gaskin as he reached the first landing.

  ‘Then we’ll have to barricade ourselves into one of the rooms.’

  The creature wrenched the entire banister rail off the stairs and charged after them. Its clawed legs bit deep into the carpet as it swung itself up towards the first storey.

  ‘That might not be as easy as it sounds.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ Angela said, ‘if it wants the wretched stone that badly, give it the thing!’

  The Doctor scrambled out of the way of another blow which gouged deep scratches into the stairs behind him. ‘That wouldn’t be a good idea, Angela!’

  ‘Why not? It might let us go then!’

  ‘It’s going to kill us otherwise, Doctor!’ added Sadie.

  They mounted the next flight of stairs with the monster close behind. On the second floor, Gaskin led them down the passageway to the main bedroom at a run. ‘In here!’

  They all piled inside and he slammed shut the door behind them.

  Within a second he had turned the key in the lock.

  ‘That won’t hold it for long,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘It’s all I could think of,’ snapped Gaskin, desperation making his voice ragged.

  Angela sat down in a chair, panting for breath. ‘That’s twice I’ve had to run for my life today,’ she gasped. ‘I can’t say I’m enjoying it.’

  ‘Dammit,’ spat Gaskin. ‘I left the shotgun in the kitchen!’

  He glared at the Doctor. ‘That’s your fault! You took it off me!’

  ‘We don’t need a shotgun,’ said the Doctor. ‘We need to think!’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ said Angela clearly, ‘I’d feel a lot better if we did have a shotgun!’

  The stout bedroom door shook in its frame as Duncan hurled himself against it. The second attempt was so powerful that the wood split right down the middle and picture frames jumped off the wall.

  ‘It’s going to kill us,’ Sadie whimpered. ‘Why don’t you just give it the stone like Angela said?’

  ‘It might be the only way to save us, Doctor,’ agreed Gaskin.

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  The Doctor looked at them all in turn. Martha could see the fear etched in their faces, knew how they must be feeling. She was terrified herself, her stomach in knots, her heart racing. And she, like everyone else, found herself looking back at the Doctor, waiting for an answer.

  ‘If the Vurosis gets hold of the brain,’ the Doctor warned them, ‘there will be no way to stop it.’

  ‘Surely there’s no way of stopping it now!’ Gaskin shouted.

  The door bulged, cracked, split in two.

  A huge arm crunched

  through the gap, tearing away long staves of varnished wood. Weeds groped their way through the gap like a hundred thin worms, tearing more timber away, making the hole bigger.

  ‘We can’t let it have the brain!’ argued the Doctor, almost pleading with them to understand. ‘If it gets it, we’ve lost.’

  ‘I think we’ve already lost,’ Sadie said quietly.

  The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’ll think of something!’

  ‘Doctor,’ said Martha. ‘Hurry!’

  The Doctor suddenly ran across the bedroom, bouncing over the big double bed to land by the window. He threw back the curtains and peered out into the night.

  ‘What’s he doing now?’ Angela demanded.

  ‘We’re two floors up,’ the Doctor said, thinking aloud. ‘Trapped.’

  ‘T
hen open the window and throw the ruddy thing out.’ urged Gaskin.

  The Doctor ignored him. Desperately he scanned the bedroom looking for inspiration and spied another door. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘En-suite bathroom,’ replied Gaskin automatically.

  The Doctor leapt across the bed again, his long legs hurdling the room in two strides.

  ‘Hardly the time,’ Gaskin scowled as the Doctor disappeared into the bathroom.

  The bedroom door suddenly gave way as the creature forced its way through the narrow frame with a series of guttural roars. Its cluster of black eyes roved around the bedroom, searching for its prey.

  To Martha’s dismay, everyone else instantly pointed towards the bathroom.

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  With a snarl the monster trampled its way across the room, dragging pieces of broken door and ornaments with it. It smashed the entire doorframe and part of the wall away with one enormous swipe of its arms, exposing the tiled bathroom and the Doctor standing inside.

  He was holding the stone at arm’s length over the toilet.

  ‘One false move and it goes,’ the Doctor said.

  The creature paused, its ragged breath spraying saliva across the room. Flecks of tar-like goo specked the pristine tiles and shower door.

  ‘I’m warning you,’ the Doctor continued. ‘I’m not afraid to flush.’

  The monster regarded him sourly but didn’t approach. It seemed to be thinking what to do next.

  Everyone held their breath.

  Then, quite suddenly, the white weeds growing from Duncan’s flesh spread out like a nest full of snakes and coiled around Sadie, lifting her bodily off the floor. She screamed as it carried her over its head and dangled her in front of the Doctor.

  The Doctor held out his free hand towards the monster, fingers spread. ‘Wait! Don’t! Don’t do it!’

  He still held the brain in his other hand over the toilet, but everyone could see that it was stalemate.

  Sadie sobbed in fear as the weeds tightened around her and the creature breathed its foul stench across her face. Tears ran down her cheeks as she twisted away, looking to the Doctor.

  Very slowly and distinctly the Doctor said, ‘Let her go.’

  The beast growled, its jaw distending and its fangs splaying out like the fingers of a hand. Tongues flapped like eels fighting in its mouth.

  It couldn’t speak, couldn’t articulate a single word, but it didn’t need to. The meaning was clear. Not until you give me what I want.

  In a small, wavering voice, Sadie said, ‘Don’t let him get it, Doctor. . . ’

  ‘I can’t,’ he replied grimly.

  A green glow appeared in the creature’s throat, welling up past its teeth, shining out towards Sadie.

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  Tight-lipped, the Doctor opened his hand and let the brain drop into the toilet. It landed with a heavy plop. He met the creature’s gaze and then reached for the chain and pulled.

  In a surreal moment, everyone listened to the sound of a toilet flushing.

  Then, with an alien howl of rage, the creature leapt forward. It tossed Sadie’s body aside like a rag doll. The Doctor dived to one side as the monster tore into the bathroom, smashing the toilet bowl into porcelain fragments, digging through the floor in a rending, tearing fury, pulling apart the pipe work beneath.

  The creature crashed through the entire floor of the bathroom, tiles, floorboards and plumbing flying in its wake. Clouds of plaster dust obscured it from view as it literally chased the brain down through the drainpipe like a pig after a truffle.

  ‘Dear God,’ breathed Gaskin. ‘Won’t it ever stop?’

  ‘Not until it gets what it wants,’ said the Doctor tersely. He helped Gaskin lift Sadie onto the bed.

  Martha felt for a pulse. ‘Her heart’s going like an express train. It’s racing – it’s too fast to count.’

  ‘Oh no. No, no, no. . . ’ The Doctor grabbed Sadie’s face and turned it towards him, pushing her eyelids roughly open with his fingers. The eyes were white. ‘No!’ he shouted. ‘No, I won’t let it happen!’

  As they watched, the whiteness of the eyes darkened, turning a deep grey like slate. Suddenly Sadie’s entire body began to shake, veins standing out on her skin like wires. She threw back her head and screamed, green light crackling over her lips.

  ‘She’s turning!’ Martha yelled. ‘She’s going to die like Ben!’

  ‘No!’ The Doctor snarled through clenched teeth. He aimed his sonic screwdriver at Sadie and activated it. A shrill whine filled the air and a fierce, pulsing blue light enveloped her body. Sadie continued to spasm as her human metabolism struggled to contain the alien energy.

  The screwdriver’s noise rose to a scream and the Doctor held it with both hands, training the blue rays on the trembling woman.

  Martha wanted to cover her ears, whether to block out the sonic squeal or Sadie’s cries she couldn’t be sure.

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  ‘What are you doing to her?’ yelled Angela over the noise.

  She was trying to drag the Doctor away, but he refused to move, keeping the sonic screwdriver aimed steadily.

  ‘Her molecular structure is collapsing,’ the Doctor explained. ‘I’m trying to stabilise it!’

  The screwdriver’s emissions rose in pitch until they passed beyond human hearing. Martha guessed the Doctor could still detect it; sweat was trickling down the side of his face as he concentrated on the work.

  Gradually Sadie stopped moving. Her mouth fell slack and her eyes closed.

  Eventually the whine of the screwdriver dropped to a hum. Very carefully, the Doctor placed it on the bedside table, making sure it stayed trained on Sadie. A soft blue glow enveloped her as she lay on the bed, pale but peaceful. A vein fluttered in her neck as her heart rate returned to something approaching normal.

  The Doctor sank back down into a nearby chair, utterly drained.

  ‘Is she all right?’ asked Angela quietly, never taking her eyes off her friend.

  ‘She’s stable,’ the Doctor replied.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I’ve managed to disrupt the telekinetic field. It won’t, last long, but it should hold the transmutation in check for the time being.’

  ‘How long, exactly?’

  ‘There’s no way of telling.’

  ‘Can she be cured properly?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The Doctor ran a hand over his face. ‘I just don’t know.’

  ‘At least this buys us some time, right?’ said Martha.

  Slowly the Doctor got to his feet. ‘I don’t know about that, either.’

  He walked across to where Gaskin was inspecting the damage to his house. The creature that had once been Duncan Goode had torn its way through the floor of the bathroom, following the plumbing down through the next floor, and then the ground floor. From the torn edge of the bedroom carpet, they could see right down through the wreckage to the basement.

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  There was no sign of the creature now.

  Nigel Carson stepped through the hole in the bedroom wall which led to the landing. He was white-faced and shaken, almost unable to believe what had happened.

  He looked around the assembled people, saw Sadie on the bed, and said, ‘I thought you ought to know – that thing has dug all the way down to the sewer. It found the stone. Now it’s heading for the well.’

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  ‘We have to stop him,’ said the Doctor, running out with Martha in tow. ‘He’s taking the stone to the well. The Vurosis wants its brain back.’

  ‘But what about Sadie?’ Angela called after him as they all hurried downstairs.

  ‘We can’t just leave her here!’ added Gaskin.

  The Doctor whirled around to face them. ‘If we don’t stop Duncan, none of us will survive the night – let alone Sadie. I’ve done my best for her. It’ll have to do – for now.’

  ‘Perhaps you should stay with her, just in case,’ Gaskin said to Angela.

 
But Angela was having none of that. ‘Don’t talk nonsense, Henry!

  You heard what the Doctor said – she’s stable. There’s nothing we can do for her here.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘But nothing! Come on, you’re coming with me.’

  Angela grabbed him by the hand and dragged him as quickly as she could down the shattered remains of the stairs.

  ‘But where are we going?’

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  ‘After that creature, of course,’ she said as they reached the hallway.

  ‘I’ll wait here while you get your shotgun.’

  ‘You won’t need it,’ the Doctor told them.

  ‘That’s what you said the last time,’ Angela sold accusingly. ‘And look what happened!

  Next chance we get, Henry can blast the

  wretched creature to hell. No one messes with Angela Hook and gets away with it!’

  The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but Martha interrupted him.

  ‘Doctor! Look!’

  Nigel Carson was already out of the front door and running for Gaskin’s Daimler. Within seconds he had it open and the engine started.

  ‘Trust him to scarper when things go wrong,’ muttered Angela.

  Gaskin came through with the shotgun and swore loudly as he watched his Daimler pulling away. ‘How the devil did he get hold of my keys?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ asked Martha. The Daimler’s wheels spat gravel at the front door as Nigel swung the car towards the gates.

  But the gates had disappeared.

  In their place was a tangle of

  wrought iron where Duncan Goode had torn his way through. The Daimler bumped over the wreckage and purred away into the night, its rear lights coming on as Nigel found the headlamps.

  A series of loud barks heralded the arrival of a rather dishevelled Border Collie.

  ‘Jess!’ cried Gaskin, dropping to one knee as the dog ran to him, licking his face in a mad display of affection. ‘Good Lord, but I thought you’d bought it, old girl. . . ’

  Jess woofed and let her master ruffle the fur on her chest, She sat and panted as he straightened up and said, ‘Look, Jess, I want you to stay here and guard Miss Brown, understand?’