Author's Fore-note: My sincerest of apologies for the significant delay in the release of this chapter. There are several reasons for this, all of which I will go into the Sidenotes at the end of this chapter. Needless to say this fic is alive and well and I will be endeavouring to finish it over the coming month or so. But aside from that, I give Chapter 24 "Supercell", enjoy!
Act V – "Bad Wolf"
Chapter 24 – "Supercell" – Arcadia Bay, Oregon, United States of America – Local Time Unknown, 11th October 2013
Max's eyes fluttered dreamily, her head drooping over her right shoulder as she continued to drift in and out of consciousness. Memories from before she'd blacked-out wandered through her mind, most of it was hazy – be it the still-memory of her phone's camera light illuminating the insides of the barn or the sharp pinch she'd felt in her neck before she had blacked out a few seconds after walking through the large barn door.
Max cringed as her neck flared up in pain at the memory, her eyes opening momentarily before she forced them shut as a result of the onslaught of harsh white light that assaulted her vision.
"Chloe…" Max murmured as her head rolled onto her other shoulder, becoming increasingly aware of a pronounced ringing in her ear that caused her to grimace in discomfort.
Taking in a pained breath at the newly-found discomfort, Max quickly found herself coughing as her throat became irritated at the heavy smell of bleach that seemed to hang in the air and after a few seconds of prolonged coughing, she finally managed to get herself sitting upright, albeit with her head once again resting on her right shoulder.
"What!?" a bewildered Max almost yelled as she opened her eyes and, after a few seconds of adjustment, quickly discovered that both her hands and feet had been bound to the chair she was sitting in, "Where am-"
She looked up as her heart fell at the familiar sight before her.
"The Dark Room…" Max whispered, panic starting to seep into her increasingly irregular breathing pattern as she continued to look around the room; the chair she was strapped to was on one end of a table, barely a meter and a half long, in the middle of the room, there was another chair on the other side of the table – Max wanted to scream when she saw who occupied it, "Wait...Chloe!?"
Max spent the next minute fighting desperately with her wrist restraints, only giving up when the effort resulted in a set of painful rashes along the edges of the restraints. She let out a quiet whimper as she looked around the room again; from what Max could tell, they were alone – and that scared her, where was the Professor?
"Chloe!?" Max screamed at the top of her lungs, her fearful voice catching in the back of her throat, as she frantically tried to get Chloe's attention so that they could think of a way to escape, "Chloe, can you hear me!?"
Max's screams for help echoed in the small room for a few moments, fading into nothing as the seconds dragged on. Much to Max's horror, Chloe remained unmoving – her head still rolled against her left shoulder, completely out-cold; Max sniffled back tears before trying to calm herself down.
"Okay…Okay…" Max whispered to herself as she sat back in the chair and began to look over the room in greater detail, looking for anything she could use to escape, "Think, Max…Think…"
It was when she started to think that something started to eat away at the back of her mind, what if Chloe and the Professor were dead? What if she was actually going to die here?
The thought of that immediately forced the memory of Rachel, buried in a small ditch in the junkyard, to the forefront of her mind. She feverishly shook her head in disgust at the memory, forcing her mind to go elsewhere.
"I am not going to d-die here," She muttered under her breath in a panic as she willed Chloe to wake up; who knew how much time they had until whoever had put them here, most likely Nathan, came back?
"I am not going to die here..."
The junkyard was quiet, entirely still as the heavy dark-grey clouds began to hang indecipherably against the inky black night sky above. Trees swayed gracefully on the spot between the powerful gusts of wind that charged inland every few minutes from the bay area off the coast of the town.
Professor…
A pair of headlights appeared on the horizon; the shape of an expensive-looking car came into view moments later, a car which was fast approaching the junkyard along a backroad – moving around the town of Arcadia Bay altogether in an apparent attempt to skip the police blockades in the town centre.
Professor!
The car turned a corner off of the backroad, moving over slightly rougher ground as the junkyard grew ever closer. The car's headlights illuminated a series of signs, many of them directing the way towards the town, the lighthouse or the junkyard, as it continued to make its way along the side-road.
Professor? Seriously. Wake up.
A bump in the road threw the sole occupant of the car's trunk off the bed of the trunk, causing them to land on their back with a pained groan as they began to sluggishly move, albeit with their hands bound behind their back.
Any time before the heat-death of the universe…
The Professor groaned quietly, grimacing as his ears rang out with a dull monotonous tone; he blinked a few times and squinted to see in the cramped confines of the car's trunk. It seemed like he was on his left shoulder and facing away from the middle of the trunk; a position which wasn't at all comfortable to say the least.
About time…I never thought about how long it took us to wake up…I can see why…
The Professor blinked at the ominously distorted male voice which was seemingly getting closer to him each time it spoke, the lightheaded sensation he was feeling, coupled with a raspy cough brought on by his healing chest-wound, didn't help either. He froze, the lone but not-so-distant memory of Nathan Prescott shooting him in the back before he could finish off Mark Jefferson forcing itself to the front of the Professor's mind. He swore under his breath, no way was he going to let that son-of-a-bitch best him agai-
Listen, sorry to interrupt I'd rather you didn't get too caught up on the situation…
The Professor blinked again, the thought of revenge briefly vanishing from his mind as he turned his head slightly to get a better view of the section of the trunk hidden behind his shoulder; where was that voice coming from?
"Hello?" The Professor asked groggily into the darkness, wriggling his hands behind his back to try and loosen whatever super-tape he'd been bound with; gasping slightly at the effort as the tape not only pulled away at the skin around his wrist, but also irritated his gunshot wound further.
There we go, perhaps we can get started…
The Professor squinted his eyes again in a vain attempt to try and locate the source of the voice, only to have the effort be in vain as the painstaking effort to look over his shoulder resulted in both a grandiose view of nothing and another raspy coughing fit; which in turn led to another coughing fit before the Professor could regain control of his breathing.
You need to control your breathing and stop moving…
The Professor entirely ignored the voice this time as he turned back onto his side with a heavy grunt, letting out a ragged breath as he tried to remain conscious, even the simple effort of trying to keep his eyes open was physically taxing for him.
Professor…Focus please…The last thing we need is for you to go into shock.
That was the moment the Professor froze, he was not only definitely alone in the trunk of the car; but he'd definitely heard where the voice was coming from now: deep inside his own head.
Right. We've got minutes now, literally minutes…So if you could focus, that'd be great…
The Professor's lungs emptied themselves violently with another coughing fit as his eyes ran around the trunk in panic and it was only when the car hit another pot-hole in the road did the Timelord regain his senses and take, albeit painfully, a deep breath. Exhaling deeply, the Professor attempted to get his breathing rate down and listen to the voice as it spoke again; though the voice itself remained noticeably distorted even as he attempted to focus on it. To his surprise, the voice sounded incredibly familiar.
Right. We – well you specifically – do not have a lot of time.
When he went to verbally ask what the voice meant, the Professor not only never got to open his mouth; but was quickly shouted down by the voice as it became more and more impatient.
Don't talk. It helps us if they think you're still out of it…
The Professor blinked at that, now listening to the authoritarian voice inside his head…Had he completely gone insane? In hindsight, he'd had it coming for a long time. The voice didn't answer that question, instead choosing to continue droning on about what it wanted the Professor to do.
Just nod or shake your head to reply…Do you understand?
He nodded slowly, still unable to place where he'd heard the voice before.
Right well. Unfortunately, we've wasted a lot of time because of your snooze. However, we do have enough time to get you - well us - out of this predicament…
The voice trailed off at the end of its sentence, seemingly contemplating its next words carefully before it spoke again.
Okay. So, all you really need to do is try and get my – your – screwdriver out of your pocket.
That was the moment that the Professor inwardly kicked himself as the realisation hit him square in the jaw; that voice he'd been hearing was his own.
Pocket…Tick tock.
Grudging complying with the voice's request, the Professor shifted along the bed of the trunk back onto his side, trying to angle his hands in such a way that he'd be able to reach the suit pocket on his trousers which contained his screwdriver. In the process of doing so, his hands brushed each other; causing the Timelord to grimace in both surprise at how cold his skin still was, in-fact it felt like ice crystals had formed on his skin – which was unusual considering how long he'd been out cold for.
"So, I'm guessing you're speaking from the future…" the Professor asked as he forced his right hand into the pocket which contained his screwdriver, "Care to elaborate why? We don't normally…" the Timelord gritted his teeth in concentration as his hand brushed against his screwdriver, "Do that kind of thing…"
The voice didn't answer for a few seconds, an incredibly unusual pause as it had typically responded quickly to his actions. Her ear twitched as the car seemed to decelerate and turn around a corner before it picked up speed again; the purring of the car's engine becoming steadily drowned out by the pattering of rain against the body of the car as it started to rain.
Let's just say all bets are off, the voice eventually replied, sounding far more distorted that it had been previously; there was now an unnerving scratchiness to the voice that made it almost painful to listen to, We're almost out of time…Just get the screwdriver and adjust it to emit a chromodynamic flux when I give you the signal.
The Professor ignored the scratchiness of the voice for now as he removed the screwdriver from his pocket and coughed again; the pain in his ribs subsiding for the moment. A gentle pattering of rain began to reverberate throughout the trunk, the intensity of the sound increasing quickly as time went on; suggesting that a large rainstorm was overhead.
The Professor's mind crashed to a halt, the thought of a storm looming in the forefront of his mind as the rain drowned out the sound of the car's engine. He strained his ears and picked out, much to his horror, the sound of the roaring wind, which was buffeting the trees on both sides of the road which the car was driving on, creating a deep feeling of unease in the Professor's stomach.
Okay, hate to chip in again, the voice chipped in again, sounding jut as raspy as it had been before; But you have twenty seconds. Get ready.
The car, as if it had been prompted by the voice, began to slow down before completely stopping a few seconds later. The Professor waited in a tense silence, with only the sound of the torrential rain and howling wind outside to keep him company, until the sound of two slamming doors shook the vehicle.
A pair of muffled voices, almost completely drowned out by the wind, called out to each other as they worked their way towards the back of the car. Someone's hand slammed against the lid of the trunk, making the Timelord momentarily flinch as he tightened his grip on his laser screwdriver.
Okay…The voice seemed to hesitate for a moment before a sharp click echoed through the trunk, revealing that the trunk had been unlocked, Now.
The Professor's thumb activated the screwdriver as the trunk opened, blinding him instantly as what seemed like a waterfall drenched him in seconds. The roaring coming from the nearby trees then proceeded to deafen him as someone's hands wrapped themselves around his ankles and pulled him out of the boot, causing him to land on the muddy ground below with a winded cough.
"For fuck's sake, Nathan, can't you do anything right!?" came a familiar voice from nearby, The Professor's mind quickly identified it as Jefferson's voice, despite the wind distorting what he was saying rather considerably, "Pick him up! Hurry!"
The Professor's body was tugged upwards now, causing him to drop his screwdriver; though as he was completely blinded, he had absolutely no idea where it had gone.
"I think he's still alive!?" came a second voice; most likely Nathan's, sounding more scared than confused.
"I highly doubt that, Nathan…" Jefferson almost laughed as the Professor was lifted away from the car and into the wall of rain which surrounded them, "I gave enough to kill a hor-"
The Professor didn't exactly see what had interrupted Jefferson, but he felt it before he heard it. A flash from roughly the direction they were walking to burned into the Professor's retinas and blinded him before a rolling wave of heat sent all three of them to the ground, the Professor too dumbfounded to do anything about it, but both Jefferson and Nathan started shouting as the deafening sound of thunder knocked the wind out of them.
The Timelord spent the next few seconds rolling around in the mud to try and get his bearings as the rain continued to relentlessly pelt him like a swarm of razors, another flash of lightning landed somewhere just outside of his peripheral vision as he forced open his eyes; causing the Professor to slam his eyes shut again as thunder boomed over the area.
"Forget about him!" came Jefferson's increasingly distant voice as the thunder echoed throughout the bay, "We'll be back in the morning when this storm pa-"
Another fork of lightning struck the junkyard, this time striking the area close to Jefferson's car, which was parked next to the rusted school bus; Nathan's panicked screams which followed were silenced by the slamming of the front doors on Jefferson's car as the older man pushed the squealing teenager inside the car before throwing himself into the driver's seat.
The Professor barely caught sight of Jefferson's headlights as the car barrelled out of the junkyard, narrowly missing another fork of lightning as it turned a corner to get back onto whatever side road it had previously been on. The Timelord forced himself to his feet, fighting the powerful gusts of wind that buffeted him as the voice returned, laughing manically, in his head.
Weather manipulation…Easiest trick in the book. Now you better get movi-
The Professor grimaced as the voice was cut off by an ominous guttural roar, pausing for a moment he rubbed the rain from his eyes before looking skyward; he froze at the sight of a storm supercell which was hanging above the town. Even against the dark early morning sky, the effects of the powerful winds within the supercell were more than apparent as the entire cloud formation lurched in a circular motion; lit up by the occasional lightning flash from within the cloud itself. The Timelord knew what was certainly coming next and it all of it meant only one thing.
They were out of time.
Author's Sidenote: So, hope you enjoyed the opening of Act V! Apologies if it seems a bit on the short side; this seemed like the most natural place to end this chapter.
This act in particular was rewritten, as far as plot-points go, at least three times before I was satisfied with how everything went. And even as I write this, I'll admit that I've still not entirely nailed down how I want the ending to go, and if it comes down to it I may put it up to a vote because I honestly cannot decide at this point in time. But the aforementioned re-writes are the primary reason this act and particularly this chapter were delayed so heavily; now that I have 90% of the issues I had now ironed out, I expect to have chapters written on a fairly consistent basis.
As always if you've liked the chapter and are enjoying the story, please favourite/follow and leave a review with your thoughts. I'll see you all in the next chapter, which I hope to have uploaded some time in the next two weeks.
Thanks again for your support for this fic and not giving up on it!
- CAS2109