Travels in Time and Space
By Lumendea
Chapter Seven: The Unquiet Dead: The Walking Dead
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of the spinoff material and I gain no income off of this story, just the satisfaction of playing with the characters.
…
It took the Doctor only a moment to scan the street and come to the correct conclusion. Rose was in the hearse. Even knowing that she had her sword and was capable didn't stop the flood of worry. He headed for a nearby carriage and climbed into it, snapping at the driver to follow the hearse. Charles Dickens was still following him and at any other time the Doctor would have been delighted, but right now he had Rose to worry about. When the author revealed that it was his carriage, the Doctor pulled him onboard and snapped at the driver to move.
Thankfully the driver started them moving and the Doctor allowed himself to feel a little relief. Worry for Rose churned in his chest and his two hearts tightened. He wondered how they'd managed to kidnap her at all. If Rose Tyler was one thing it was capable of defending herself. Maybe she hesitated for some reason. Or they got the jump on her. That was possible, happened to the best of them. He just hoped she wasn't badly hurt. He felt the stirring of anger at that very idea, but kept it at bay.
"Everything in order, Mister Dickens?" their driver asked, turning in his seat to look at them.
"No! It is not!" Dickens snapped.
"Sorry about all this," the Doctor said in a rush. "This isn't how I imagined meeting you Charles Dickens." Then the Doctor laughed. "Honestly, me stealing the carriage of one of the most brilliant writers of all time! This is a new one!"
"Well…. I'm not without a sense of humor," Dickens said. The man suddenly looked uncertain with his earlier anger deflating.
"Completely one hundred percent brilliant," the Doctor continued. They were still following the hearse and he was grateful for the distraction. "I've read them all. Great Expectations, Oliver Twist and what's the other one, the one with the ghost?"
"A Christmas Carol?" Dickens sounded a touch annoyed at that one.
"No, no, no, the one with the trains. The Signal Man, that's it. Terrifying! The best short story ever written. You're a genius."
"You want me to get rid of him, sir?" the driver asked.
Dickens was watching the Doctor with a slight smile. "Er, no, I think he can stay."
"Thanks," the Doctor said. He glanced at the hearse again. "Come on, faster!"
"Who exactly is in that hearse?" Dickens asked with a hint of worry.
"My… partner," the Doctor answered. He wasn't sure what to call Rose. Friend was true, but it didn't seem to do the trick, companion didn't give her enough credit either, but now wasn't the time to worry about that. "She went to check on that old woman that the gas creature came out of, but something seems to have gone wrong. Not sure who took her, but I can't leave her with them. She's in danger."
"Why are we wasting my time talking about dry old books?" Dickens demanded. "This is much more important. Driver, be swift! The chase is on!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Attaboy, Charlie."
"Nobody calls me Charlie," Dickens said reproachfully.
"The ladies do," the Doctor replied with a slight smile.
"How do you know that?"
The Doctor just smiled. "Let's say that my admiration and knowledge of you goes further than your books."
….
Rose woke up slowly. She was vaguely aware of being laid out on a hard surface and voices. They sounded panicked and she felt someone touch her bum and the side of her chest. That was almost enough to pull her out of the darkness, but not quite. Then the voices were gone and she slowly gained more control over her body. Everything felt heavy and odd.
Sitting up slowly, Rose took stock of herself. Nothing felt injured and her outfit was intact so there hadn't been a fight. She could just remember that young woman with the dark hair and the hearse. Someone had come up behind her and… Rose groaned. She'd been drugged. Rose hoped that the Doctor never revealed this to Alistair or Benton, they'd never let her live it down.
…..
Dickens climbed out of the carriage first, putting his top hat on to make a rather impressive figure. The Doctor followed and looked up at the old house. Nothing about it screamed dangerous plot, but his concern for Rose was growing. He itched to storm in and find her, but stayed back as Charlie knocked on the door.
A young woman opened the door, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of them. "I'm sorry, sir. We're closed," she said quickly.
"Nonsense. Since when did an Undertaker keep office hours?" Charlie said with disapproval. The Doctor almost smiled. "The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master."
"He's not in, sir," Gwyneth said quickly.
She began to shut the door, but Dickens shoved it open with an angry huff. "Don't lie to me, child. Summon him at once."
"I'm awfully sorry, Mister Dickens, but the master's indisposed."
Behind her, a gas lamp flared the Doctor noted it with a raise eyebrow. "Having trouble with your gas?"
Gwyneth looked behind her and gasped softly. A look of terror and hopelessness taking over her face. The Doctor began to move forward while Charlie gaped at the odd sight.
"What the Shakespeare is going on?"
The Doctor pushed past them both to examined the fixture despite Gwyneth's protests that he wasn't' allowed. "There's something inside the walls," the Doctor said in surprise. "The gas pipes. Something's living inside the gas."
…
Rose climbed off the black draped table. She was in some sort of chapel. A funeral home, her mind provided as she remembered the hearse. Rose shivered; she had a bad feeling that she'd been dumped on top of that old woman's body. A long groan made her turn sharply only to groan herself. A young man was climbing out a coffin with a vacant expression. The same odd blue glow surrounded his face. For a moment, Rose just stared in shock and disbelief until he began to move towards her.
"Stop right there mate," Rose said calmly. She shifted her right hand and her bracelet shifted into its sword form. "I'm not doing zombies. I have rules against zombies."
It didn't stop moving towards her. It just kept groaning and Rose felt a flicker of fear in her chest. Taking a step back, she glanced around and quickly located the white double doors. Then as the male figure walked towards her, the old woman from the theater sat up in her own coffin. That flicker of fear was becoming a bit worse. Rose tried to open the door, but it was locked. Someone had locked her in here with two corpses. Two corpses that were zombies.
"I'm going to kill Mickey for those zombie movies," Rose said. "This is his fault. Never should have let him pick the movies!"
Before they could get any closer, Rose spun around and swung her sword at the door. The wood cracked at the blow, forming a hole. Behind her the zombies were groaning louder and Rose reached through the hole. She twisted her left wrist and turned the doorknob. Thankfully she was able to open it. Rose pulled her hand loose just as something grabbed at her. A pair of hands tightened around her neck and the fear in Rose's chest exploded as pressure was put on her airway.
Snapping her elbow back, Rose felt it collide with a cool, but firm body. They released her and she opened the door, scrambling out into the hallway. She pulled the door closed as the zombies reached for her and realized that she was now stuck trying to hold the door closed by herself. She kept a tight hold of the knobs and braced herself with one leg against the wall. It made her dress fall back and exposed her leg, but Victorian decency be damned, there were zombies!
"A little help!" she shouted, desperately hoping that the Doctor was here. "I've got two walking dead on my hands! And I'm not happy about it!"
"Oh stop your moaning," the Doctor called.
Rose turned her head and smiled in relief. Despite his words, Rose could see the relief in his blue eyes at the sight of her. Behind him was Charles Dickens and the dark haired girl. The Doctor came up next to her and looked at the door.
"Walking dead you say?"
"Yeah," Rose said shortly. "Didn't fancy joining them."
"I need to talk with them, Rose," the Doctor said.
"Oh how did I know you were going to say that?" Rose half laughed, half groaned. None the less, she released the knobs and let the doors fall open. The Doctor grabbed her arm and pulled her back a little to stand beside him.
The two zombies were standing there looking at them. Their eyes were glazed over with a sheen of blue. Charles Dickens gaped at them and Rose looked over at him with smile. Zombies or not, this was the author of A Tale of Two Cities, one of her favorites.
"It's a prank. It must be," Dickens said. "We're under some mesmeric influence.'
"No, we're not. The dead are walking," the Doctor answered darkly. "My name's the Doctor. Who are you, then? What do you want?"
"Failing," the male figure said. Its voice echoed like a dozen people speaking all at once. "Open the rift. We're dying. Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain. Help us. Argh!"
Then, just like in the theater, the blue gas rushed out of the figures. It swirled around in the room for a moment before returning to the gas lamps. Both of the corpses collapsed on the floor and Rose took a step closer to the Doctor, more than a little creeped out by all of this.
Sneed came forward and with Gwyneth's help put the two bodies back into their coffins. Dickens watched them carefully and checked for pulses on both of the bodies, but of course there wasn't one. Then Sneed made the mistake to complain about his door. Rose gave him a look that would have made her mother proud. Gwyneth saved him by offering to make tea if they all moved into the parlor.
All it got Sneed was a few minutes of peace. As soon as the chapel was sealed up once again and Gwyneth poured the first glass, Rose went off.
"I try to help you and you drug and kidnap me," Rose shouted. Mr. Sneed looked at her in shock and Rose felt the anger bubbling up inside fueled by her own embarrassment at being caught unawares. "And don't think I didn't feel your hands having a wander, you dirty old man!"
The Doctor's amused expression darkened for a moment, but he seemed content to let Rose have at the man. He was at the corner, alternating between a smile and glaring at Sneed. Charles Dickens was next to the fireplace and seemed completely at a loss for how to take any of this.
"I won't be spoken to like this!" Sneed drew himself up and glared at her.
"Yes you bloody will!" Rose snapped. She narrowed her eyes at him and Sneed instantly flinched back. "Then after all that you lock me in a room full of zombies. If that wasn't attempted murder because don't act as if you didn't know what they were going to do, I don't know what is. So you're going to sit there and answer our questions or so help me I'll give you something to really be afraid of."
"Yes, Ma'am," Sneed whimpered. He looked towards the Doctor, pleading with his eyes but found only amusement there. Turning back towards Rose, he swallowed. "It's this house. It wasn't my fault. The house always had a reputation. Haunted-"
"It wasn't the house that drugged and kidnapped me," Rose said dryly.
"Rose," the Doctor said. "As much as I'm enjoying this, I do need some information."
"Fine," Rose grumbled, but sat down. A moment later Gwyneth handed her a cuppa that was just how she liked it. "But I'm not done with him."
"I never had much bother until a few months back, and then the stiffs, the er, dear departed started getting restless," Sneed said.
"Tommyrot," Dickens scoffed.
"You witnessed it. Can't keep the beggars down, sir," Sneed said with a hint of desperation. "They walk. And it's the queerest thing, but they hang on to scraps. One old fellow who used to be a sexton almost walked into his own memorial service. Just like the old lady going to your performance, sir, just as she planned."
"Morbid fancy," Dickens snapped.
"Oh, Charles, you were there," the Doctor said impatiently.
"I saw nothing but an illusion." Dickens crossed the room and raised his chin definitely.
"If you're going to deny it, don't waste my time. Just shut up," the Doctor said firmly. Then he turned back to Sneed. "What about the gas?"
"That's new, sir. Never seen anything like that," Sneed said, looking between Rose and the Doctor.
"Means it's getting stronger, the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through," the Doctor said.
"It's a weak point in time and space, right?" Rose confirmed. "So any idea from when or where they're coming?"
"Not sure," the Doctor said. "Can't really say. A rift like this is a cause of all sorts of ghost stories."
"That's how I got the house so cheap. Stories going back generations," Sneed said. Rose glanced up in time to see Dickens leaving the room. He slammed the door behind him. Rose couldn't help a flicker of disappointment. "Echoes in the dark, queer songs in the air, and this feeling like a shadow passing over your soul. Mind you, truth be told, it's been good for business. Just what people expect from a gloomy old trade like mine."
The Doctor was smiling at that last bit and looked towards the doorway. He pushed off the wall and followed Dickens out. Rose however, wasn't ready to let Sneed off the hook just yet. He shifted uneasily under her gaze and Rose all but smirked. At least he knew that she meant business.
"Those walking dead attacked me," Rose said. "One of them was strangling me before I got loose. Has that happened before?"
"They… the old woman killed her grandson earlier," Sneed confessed. "He was the other body."
"And you put me in there with them," Rose reminded him. Her eyes narrowed and the part of her that was her mother's daughter enjoyed watching the man squirm. "Is that how you've been dealing with anyone who got too close?"
"No ma'am," Sneed assured her. At her stern look he shuddered a bit. "Well that is to say ma'am that you're the first one." He wiped his brow. "We didn't plan it. I just panicked ma'am. The chapel was the only place I thought to put you. I didn't- I mean…." The main trailed off and Rose sighed. It almost wasn't worth it.
Rose gave Sneed one more sharp look, enjoying the way the man retreated into himself. Holding back a snort, Rose followed Gwyneth into the small tight kitchen. If she stayed around Sneed things were going to turn ugly.
…..
The Doctor found Dickens in the chapel. He was examining the coffins and bodies, waving a hand in front of the dead man's face. The Doctor watched him for a few moments from the doorway.
"Checking for strings?" the Doctor asked.
"Wires, perhaps," Dickens said without looking up. "There must be some mechanism behind this fraud."
"Oh, come on, Charles. All right. I shouldn't have told you to shut up. I'm sorry," the Doctor apologized. He stepped into the room and looked at Dickens imploringly. "But you've got one of the best minds in the world. You saw those gas creatures."
"I cannot accept that," Dickens insisted. He shook his head a little, looking truly disturbed by the lack of evidence he was finding.
"And what does the human body do when it decomposes? It breaks down and produces gas. Perfect home for these gas things. They can slip inside and use it as a vehicle, just like your driver and his coach."
"Stop it. Can it be that I have the world entirely wrong?"
"Not wrong. There's just more to learn," the Doctor said gently.
"I've always railed against the fantasists. Oh, I loved an illusion as much as the next man, revelled in them, but that's exactly what they were, illusions," Dickens said. "The real world is something else. I dedicated myself to that. Injustices, the great social causes. I hoped that I was a force for good. Now you tell me that the real world is a realm of spectres and jack-o'-lanterns. In which case, have I wasted my brief span here, Doctor? Has it all been for nothing?"
He looked at the Doctor for an answer, but there wasn't one. The Doctor found himself wishing that Rose was here, she was better at people than he was. Swallowing, he tried to think of what Rose would say.
"Charles, it's never for nothing. Most people never even catch a glimpse of this. Oh they make up stories about it and imagine it, but they never get into it. They never try to understand. It stays just the realm of fantasy." The Doctor smiled. "But you, you're here trying to sort it out. Trying to learn how it fits into the rest of the world. That's not nothing."
There, the Doctor thought. That didn't sound too bad. Sounded like something that Rose would say and Dickens now looked a bit more thoughtful and bit less distressed.