8
FLOOD WATERS
The pain in Tom's hand was getting worse, he could see that the bandage was now crimson with fresh blood and it was almost impossible to move his fingers without arrows of excruciating pain shooting up his arm. With his free hand he was just about able to lift the pager and thumb its emergency 'help' button. With any luck Phil and Gary wouldn't be too far away, it all depended on how busy they were.
OAKSIDE was only a small village and the evacuation had been well under way when Tom and his team had arrived. Inflatable rubber dingies had been fine at the start now they were airlifting people out off their rooftops. Moping perspiration from a hot brow Tom waited for the dizziness to pass, it had been coming in regular waves for the last few minutes and he knew he couldn't let himself pass out.
The house was rapidly filling he had about thirty minutes left before scrambling onto the roof became unavoidable, assuming of course he could do it. He would have done it already had it not been for the thing that had bitten him, and now there were more of them. He could hear their movements above his head, that horrible clicking noise they made with their mandibles and that drawn out almost pneumatic hiss as they expelled air or something from a sac under their heads.
He had no idea what they could be but there was no doubt that they like him were keeping away from the floodwaters. He would have used his mobile phone but he'd dropped it when the first creature bit him and now it could be miles away, carried by the torrential contents of the long-breached river Oak.
Despite the heat in his head Tom felt cold everywhere else and was actually shivering, he also felt the first daggers of nausea stab at his throat and just prayed he didn't start vomiting.
Like everyone else he'd laughed at the local kids when they spoke of 'monsters' crawling all over the landfill site, things as big as dogs one lad had said. Another had come out with some tale of these monsters eating feral cats, and a drawing of the creature was pinned to the works canteen to amuse everyone. Well I'm not laughing now Tom thought, I've seen them, touched them; I know they're only too real and now I'm developing a fever to prove it.
Removing a safety pin he began to unwrap the hastily applied bandage, glad of at first elementary first-aid training. The gash on the back of his hand was dry, a wicked looking diagonal cut slightly curved from the top of his smallest knuckle to the head of the ulna bone. It was the star shaped puncture in his palm that was bleeding and giving off the foulest stench, the puckered skin around it now coloured black with tendrils of purple extending under the flesh in all directions and the fingers horribly swollen into stiff inert sausages. God it was one hell of an infection, this had all happened in barely half an hour.
His wrist was swollen now to and the puffiness was spreading, was he going to lose his hand, his whole arm?
Swallowing down the hysteria Tom peered through the bedroom window of the massive detached house. All he could make out as far as the eye could see was water a swirling, frothing biblical expanse of it blotting out the countryside. Occasionally a roof could be detected popping up out of the maelstrom, or a car being carried away by the current like some abandoned kids toy.
He jerked back with a cry of pure horror and fell onto the carpet spitting disgust and revulsion. One of the creatures had descended across the outside of the window without warning and was peering in at him! The small red eyes boiled with an intensely focused hatred, and he could swear the thing wanted to get at him to hurt him some more to feed on him. Oh yes there was hunger in those mean, malicious little orbs. For out on the roof there was nothing to eat unless these brutes ate each other, and he wouldn't put that past them.
This one hung there adhered to the wet glass, its many legs splayed out wider than the window itself and it was a big window, the torso heaved back and forth undulating angrily and swollen. Long sharp stingers were visible all across the abdominal sac, curved barbs each as sharp as a scalpel.
Weapon Tom thought I need a weapon of some kind to fight the thing off with if he gets in here. His good hand searched the carpet sweeping over it to chair leg, table leg, wainscoting and shoe.
Shoe?
Yes there could be no doubt about it a man's laced shoe slightly scuffed near the toes, leather to by the feel of it.
Turning Tom saw the shoe and its twin not a meter away from him, spats over the tops of them and growing out of these were two trousers legs. The man was not in waterproofs - that was Tom's first thought, quickly followed by a vague impression of some Edwardian gentleman dining in his private club.
The smile he received was benign enough, surprisingly so under the circumstances could this be the owner of the house, what the devil was he doing still here? Why would anyone remain in a house quickly turning into an aquarium?
But the man's smile froze when he saw the thing on the window and quick as a flash he removed something from a pocket. It was like a torch only very streamlined and it seemed to be made of gold, its bulb was long and tapered to almost a point. Tom couldn't see an element inside it and when the man switched it on the light was a fierce lime green that projected a narrow beam of even brighter intensity at the window.
Instantly the thing outside was framed in a brilliant corona of the same light that seemed to shimmer around it, but more than this Tom was amazed to see the interior of the creature illuminated x-ray style, a complex maze of organs and blood vessels and there lower down in the belly was a cluster of what could have been eggs.
In the head was something else he didn't understand that heaved and throbbed like a second heart with tendrils that extended into the creatures brain and wove their way down the spinal chord.
"Fascinating," the strange man muttered as his thumb altered something on the torch and the green changed to ultraviolet. More internal detail appeared, a complex web of fine filaments that intersected every part of the monster from body to limbs as though it was being subjected to an MRI or CT scan now.
"Oh yes so I see," said the man.
Suddenly the creature's body stopped undulating and hammered itself against the glass so that's its stingers acted like ice picks creating a welter of small and not so small holes surrounded by a frost of broken fragments. God it was breaking it, it would soon be attacking them.
Calmly the odd man altered his torch one more time and a fierce silver light struck the beast, causing the fur on his back to erect and smoke to rise from all ten legs. The next instant it was gone plummeting downwards into the torrent as though kicked by a horse. Tom couldn't hide his relief and the sigh that escaped his lips was almost a laugh of pure joy.
Switching the torch off the man came to him seeing his swollen hand and wincing, "Very nasty." He said in sympathy.
"I need hospital treatment, have you got a mobile?" Tom pleaded hoping the answer was yes even if it meant amputation.
"I think we can do better than hospital," the man said mysteriously. "Are you able to walk?"
Helped to his feet the rescue worker found that his legs would support him although they felt horribly feeble. "I've got a fever," he said.
"So you have, don't worry it isn't far."
What did he mean by that, Oak General was fifteen miles away and Tom couldn't hear the drone of a chopper anywhere.
"That creature there are more of them," as if to prove his words a nasty series of hurried taps came from overhead as the pack no doubt wanted to know what had happened to their comrade. "I don't know what the hell they are but one of them bit me."
The man was surprisingly calm, "Well if he bit you, you'll have his DNA in your wound and that should tell us quite a bit. It's this way. What's your name incidentally?"
"Tom Halstead."
Amazingly the man didn't lead Tom to a ladder or rope but into the master bedroom where to one side stood the strangest looking wardrobe he'd ever seen, unlike the others, which were brown this was blue. "What are you doing," Tom gasped as another dizzy spell hit hard?
"The first order of business is to treat that wound of yours and I can only do that in the…" As Tom lost his footing the man held him with a surprising strength for so slender a frame, easily steering his sixteen stones to the wardrobe and supporting it whilst with one hand he inserted a key into a lock.
Just as the door opened and a curious humming soliloquy filled his mind, the rescue worker felt his grip of conscious slip and fall away. I'm being taken into a wardrobe he thought, this makes no sense at all.
Wind battered him on the roof of the house. He'd been lowered there because frankly there was no other way to enter the property. The downstairs was under water and the place half full of the raging torrent, there wasn't much time before the rest of it followed. Gripping on for dear life he crawled like a lizard towards the guttering, one of the upstairs windows was open and he should be able to affect entry through it if he was careful and if this fierce cross wind eased off.
Tom was just at the roof edge when he heard a scuttling sound, pausing to try and figure out if it was the wind or water or both he was in no way prepared for the appearance of the creature. The thing just loomed up in front of him as though it had been scaling the side of the house like some monstrous spider. Any resemblance to an arachnid was purely superficial, as this brute was much bigger and much stranger than any normal animal.
It was a curious brownish-black in colour with long multi-jointed legs that ended in talons. It had a four-sectioned body with fur running the entire length of the top portions. The head was triangular with horns or barbs jutting from all three sides, the mandibles at the front were as big as hedge sheers and between them thrust a proboscis as big as a tent peg.
Fear rooted Tom to the spot he couldn't do anything as horror clung to him like a second skin, what he was seeing just couldn't be real it had to the product of a mind made weary by crisis and overwork.
Then the monster bit his hand, closed its mandibles around it and drove the proboscis in like a lance. The pain was excruciatingly electric it tore from him an awful scream and a spasmodic jerk of every muscle. He couldn't be sure if he kicked the creature or just overbalanced it but it fell backwards into the foaming flood and was lost from sight leaving its snapped proboscis embedded in his bloody palm.
Hearing noise behind him he saw three more of the devils appear near the chimneystack. Faced with no choice he levered himself as best he could over the side of the roof planted his boots on the window ledge and with his good hand he pushed the window open even wider.
His plan was to jump inside and seal the thing behind him but as he jumped into the bedroom his impaled hand struck a bedpost and a million volts of pure undiluted agony exploded up his arm.
He screamed.
With a similar scream Tom awoke to find himself inside a vast white-walled private room with a high ceiling. Built into the walls were machines, monitors of an extremely exotic design. There was another machine around his chest like a giant polo mint upon which were flat screen displays and curious winking rubies. His injured hand could not been seen as it was encased in a grey cone that extended halfway up his arm. He felt no pain just a curious tingling sensation, when he tried to move his fingers he found he could.
The odd man who had rescued him was close by peering into a microscope with seven lenses within it was held a sample dish containing blood and an ugly black residue that seemed to be moving. As he stared at it for longer Tom saw that the residue was in fact dozens of tiny insect-like creatures adhered together by thick fronds of clear mucus.
This was not the General that much was clear it was too new, too clean and far too quiet. Plus this odd man wasn't in a white coat he wore a dark frock coat, a ruffled shirt and some kind of grey waistcoat. Was that a chain watch hanging from one of his pockets?
"Don't try to move," he said without looking up. "The anti-serum I devised is doing its job perfectly but your arm needs to remain fixed in place." Now the man looked up and he was frowning, "You were lucky Tom I caught the infection just in time, it was so aggressive and pernicious that in another few minutes… But let's not dwell on maybes, you're fine and that's all that matters."
Coming over and perching on the side of the bed the man said, "I'm the Doctor."
So thought Tom this was a hospital after all.
"How did we get out of that house?"
"Swiftly," he was told.
"So where are we now?"
"Close to the town," the Doctor replied without supplying details. "I've been studying the DNA of the thing that bit you, and it's a confusing polyglot of unpleasant genetic tampering."
The words meant little to Tom but he did understand one term, "Tampering?" he repeated uneasily.
"Oh yes there's not much doubt these creatures are the product of design not accident, but something has clearly gone wrong the protein changes are mutating out of control due to some external factor. These things are much bigger and nastier than their progenitors intended and they are dying."
"How can they be dying, they're so powerful?"
The Doctor nodded and gave an ironic little smile, "Too powerful, there's speeding pell mell towards metabolic burnout."
"Hang on Doctor let me get this clear in mind – somebody deliberately created those horrible freaks?" it didn't make any sense, who on earth would do such a thing?
"Yes and set them down in a controlled test area, unfortunately no one foresaw the flood waters, which forced the specimens to migrate to higher ground and seek an alternative food source." Tom's covered hand was nodded at and he inwardly shuddered.
"Where is or was this test area?"
"The TARDIS has just materialised near by and I'm going out to take a look, ironically the flood waters have now receded and it's drying out."
What had this Doctor just said, tar-what and materialised?
"I'd like you to stay here Tom, there's no point in both us risking our necks."
Picking up a jar filled with something like baking soda the Doctor unscrewed its lid, poured a film of the powder into his free palm and sprinkled it onto the blood sample heaving with small, malignant life. Instantly the black mass began to smoke and dissolve into a stagnant smear of crimson red.
"Yes it seems to work, which is fortunate under the circumstances."
"Poison?" Tom enquired.
"No it merely speeds up the metabolic decline, a bio-accelerant if you like, I just hope I've made enough."
That thought Tom dependent on just how many of the monstrous predators where left. As the Doctor headed for the door Tom chose to ignore all the sage medical advice he had been given, sitting up suddenly he wriggled free of the huge polo mint machine and pulled the grey cone with him as he slid out of bed. There was no dizziness, he no longer felt sick and his legs supported him.
He couldn't let this man take all the risks alone it wasn't fair, on top of which he now felt back on form not a hundred per cent but more than capable of providing another pair of eyes should they be needed.
"I owe you," he said. "You saved my life and I'm not going to lie around in here while you put yours on the line. How far is this site from the hospital?"
Nodding in appreciation the Doctor patted an arm then with a chuckle he led Tom down a long corridor, a shorter corridor and through a white door into the strangest room Tom had ever seen. At the far side of this where some double doors and when these hummed open Tom's eyes bugged with disbelief.
LANDFILL SITE announced a lob sided sign, PROPERTY OF BIOTRAX INDUSTRIES.
Good grief it was the dump site three miles outside of town and there were right on the edge of it, six mounds of heavily treated clay once ringed by a tall fence that was now nowhere to be seen.
"Stay in the TARDIS entrance," he was told. "The door can be closed by depressing that lever."
A dozen fevered questions boiled across Tom's mind but he wasn't given the chance to ask any of them as his host was already trotting outside, jar in one hand and torch in the other. Moving up to the entrance Halstead peered out and to the left seeing the side of a blue wardrobe, it was the same on the right. He was stood inside a small cabinet yet behind him was something out of NASA plus a state-of-the-art hospital.
Yes all right he thought maybe I'm not totally recovered after all, clearly this phase of my illness involves delirium. "Don't ask," the Doctor smiled and Tom thought no I won't then he was shouting in terror as four of the vile, many-legged carnivores had just appeared on top of one of the mounds and seeing the two intruders they had begun scuttling down the side of it at high-speed, their intentions only too obvious.
"Get back inside quickly." Tom's advice was blithely ignored as the Doctor was already running in the opposite direction his intentions far from obvious unless he wanted to commit suicide.
Spotting him instantly the three creatures changed direction to intercept, something they could easily do as they were moving much faster. Tom thought of shouting a warning but what use would that be, the Doctor had to know he was being hunted. Looking around the vast control room Halstead's eyes fixed on something resting on the six sided main console, it was another of those weird torches that seemed to be part diagnostic and part weapon.
Grabbing it he went outside fumbling with unfamiliar switches, if he could get the blessed thing to work he might be able to help this man who had saved his life. Totally ignoring him as though they didn't regard him as any kind of threat, the creatures zeroed in on the Doctor.
At the last moment he turned and removed the lid from his jar clearly intending to hurl some of the dust on his attackers. Before he could the lead creature pounced like a cat, launching itself through the air to strike him in the chest. Flung back off balance the Doctor careered down a small incline with the monster tumbling head over heels beside him both of them out of control.
Lost the jar landed on a patch of earth on its side, some of the dust had spilled out but most was still inside. Tom noted that the other two creatures skirted around it with great caution making no attempt to touch it.
Then the thing in his hands flashed to life emitting a strong purple beam that shot into the sky as far as he could see, levelling it he aimed the beam at the creatures but they scattered and took cover with amazing rapidity. So much for the all conquering hero, thumbing the beam off he went to see if the Doctor had survived his long fall.
At the base of a small gully the traveller lay on his side groaning, he was moving his limbs and seemed conscious but he wasn't getting up. The same could not be said of his attacker already on its feet the brute was advancing towards its intended target, those huge mandibles yawning wide.
Taking careful aim Tom thumbed the torch – nothing happened. A blasphemy escaping his lips he shook the stupid thing, why wasn't it working? His thumb worked the control buttons again, not a flicker came from the torch was it broken, was the battery flat?
A sound behind Halstead alerted him to the fact that the other two horrors where emerging from cover and approaching him with a malicious gleam in their eyes. I've been a damn fool he thought, I should have checked this weapon before leaving the wardrobe.
Pocketing it he bent down and picked up a stone – it was a crude alternative but he seemed to have little choice. He threw his projectile at the thing on the left missing by a mile, picking up another he tossed this at the one on the right. With a thump the stone made contact yet seemed to have no effect, the creature's carapace sounded harder than cast steel and from deep inside it came an angry rumble.
One stone left, Halstead contemplated what to do then it occurred to him how idiotic he was being his true target was obvious and he should have thought of it before. Taking careful aim he made his last throw praying he was on target – he was.
The glass jar shattered with a loud crack and dust flew everywhere carried by a decent breeze, much of it was blown to the four corners but some of it landed on the two monsters sugaring their furry backs.
The effect was immediate and spectacular if grotesque, rolling onto their backs at once with their legs thrashing the air, the hybrids issued a series of high-pitched keening noises that sounded very like pain to Tom. Then their bellies exploded spewing vile greenish pus into the air, Tom had to duck to avoid being saturated by it. Legs still thrashing the hulks vomited an orange matter from their mandibles and gradually their movements became weaker. They were dying they had to be the Doctor's concoction was working.
Speaking of the Doctor Tom turned and looked down, the odd man was now in his knees facing his opponent torch held in both hands. The devil had stopped moving but was looking right at his opponent with those small, mean eyes. Go on Doctor shoot him Tom willed, what are you hesitating for he wouldn't show you any mercy?
From the head of the creature something spat with unbelievable speed, it was long and elastic, some kind of narrow flex that might have been a tongue or a tentacle. Wrapping around the Doctor's torch it plucked it from his grip and tossed it aside contemptuously disarming him.
Looking at his own torch Tom tried to get it working again but none of the switches were of any help at all.
There was no choice, "Doctor!" He threw the torch into the gully, he might not be able to get it working but perhaps its creator would.
Sensing the danger the last of the mutants lunged forwards mandibles wide, proboscis extending. Sidestepping the Doctor went into a gymnastic roll as one of his hands shot upwards, fingers splayed.
He'll never catch it Tom thought, my throw was extremely poor this time.
But the Doctor did catch the torch – in his teeth. How he managed to avoid breaking them Tom would never know but catch the object he did and with his tongue he poked one of the control buttons.
A blinding light enveloped the advancing predator lifting it off the ground legs and mandibles clicking furiously, its whole body strained and heaved to be free of the corona but as Tom watched the great beast vaporised, dissolving into nothingness.
Removing the torch from his teeth the Doctor permitted him self a weary smile then gave Halstead a wave of thanks.
"I think that's all of them," said Tom at least he couldn't see anymore. Athletically his newfound friend climbed up the side of the gully with no obvious ill effects.
"I just couldn't get that torch-thing to work, I'm so sorry."
Waving this aside the Doctor looked over at his broken jar, by now its contents where spread far and wide over the dumpsite and he nodded as if in satisfaction.
"Is it over," Halstead enquired.
"For you, yes." The Doctor was looking at the sign with the name of the company on it. "But not for me, or for them."
"They're a huge corporation, you can't take them on alone."
The smile indicated otherwise and in the blue eyes Tom saw an almost visionary zeal, this was not a man impressed by wealth or power.
"Can I drop you off anywhere Tom, the flood waters will take care of the mutants on that house roof and there don't appear to anymore left here?"
Tom almost said he'd like to join the Doctor in his fight against the company, almost.