Sarah Jane groaned, as her surroundings gradually faded in. What...What had happened? Pulling herself up, she glanced around. Still in the forest, it seemed.

Oh God. Where was Luke? Or that vile man, Colin? There had been ringing of some kind - and a voice. A female voice...giving orders. Harrison - that was it. Oh God, that man - she'd shot him in both knees. And Cromley...oh. Why had...Luke - she had to find Luke, find her car.

Rani - was she all right?

Sarah Jane rummaged for her phone, and dialled.

'The person you're calling is not available right now. Please leave a message after the tone.'

Beep.

'Rani, it's Sarah Jane. Luke's gone - I don't know where. Please, just call me when you get this, all right?'

How was Colin gone if his knees had been...blown apart?

Sarah Jane shuddered. Too many questions, not enough answers.

She trekked along the forest, for what seemed like an age. Surely the exit couldn't have been far.

Oh, at last.

A road appeared up ahead - and her car.

Next stop, Bannerman Road.

The road was unusually quiet for this hour. Almost too quiet.

Oh God, where was Luke - and Rani? Were they safe? She could check with Mr Smith. Perhaps he could also help her piece together the last week. At the moment, it was just one big blur. The vague memory of Cromley standing in her bathroom, threatening to commit suicide flashed in her mind. Not far to the house now, Sarah Jane thought. She could just make out the traffic lights ahead, when a man at the side of the road approached her car, waving his arms. She pulled over and stopped, climbing out.

'Are you all-'

'What's my name?'

The short dishevelled man stared at Sarah Jane, his floppy hair framing his dirty face. His brown jacket appeared to cover a torn red shirt. He was also missing a shoe.

'I'm sorry?'

The man stood closer.

'I don't know what...I don't have much time.'

'Do you want me to take you to a police station?'

'There isn't time...no time.'

Sarah Jane needed to find Luke. And Rani. But she couldn't just leave this man.

'No time for what?'

The man stepped forward.

'You have to take me to...take me to...'

The police station wasn't far away - but that was probably the last place the man wanted to be.

'I can take you to wherever it is you have to go, if you can try to remember that.'

The man blinked.

'You're...sure?'

'Yes,' Sarah Jane said, motioning him to climb in. 'I can at least get you somewhere safe in the meantime.'

Was she sure about this? She didn't even know the man, let alone what he wanted. He could've been dangerous - or faking it. A complete stranger, and she'd just let him in. He did seem genuine enough.

Luke - she needed to worry about Luke, and whatever happened to that other man with him. She also needed to worry about the man sitting next to her, as the car started down the road.

Sarah Jane threw occasional glances at the man, as the car continued at a steady pace. Had he been attacked? Was he on the run? What if he'd been sent by Harrison - in an attempt to ruin Sarah Jane's life. It wouldn't be the first (thank you, Miss Winters) - and for what? The career path of journalism her younger self had decided to pursue all those years ago? Hitchhiker was definitely out of the question.

Oh.

Something (presumedly on the man) stank.

The man studied the cars and houses that passed by. He seemed as bewildered as Sarah Jane.

'This isn't...I don't think this is the way.'

Sarah Jane glanced at him in the corner of her eye.

'I'm taking you back to my place,' she said. 'For your own safety.'

The car slowed down as they approached a red light. Sarah Jane looked at the man.

'Look, I obviously don't know what's happened to you, but I can certainly try and help you.'

She needed to find Luke and Rani. She also needed to find out who exactly this man was, and his intentions.

The man's eyes darted.

'And you won't take me to the...police station?'

'No.'

He looked at her, hands trembling.

'What's my name?'

Sarah Jane glanced between him and the road, as the light turned green, and continued along. Perhaps he wasn't faking it after all. Too early to say at this stage, surely. Perhaps he was dangerous.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'If I knew, I would gladly tell you. But...'

The man looked at his feet.

Sarah Jane needed to find Luke and Rani, but...she couldn't...she couldn't wait until she reached home to help this man. It would just...it would just have to wait.

'Change of plan.'

The man looked at Sarah Jane.

The car passed one last set of traffic lights, before turning right.

Oh God.

That man - that vile man Colin. Where was he? Or Harrison? Hopefully nowhere near Luke or Rani. A chill shot down Sarah Jane's spine.

Oh God.

As Granville walked along the path beside the long road of passing cars, he froze, seeing what he did not want to see.

Wormwood lay before him, choking on her own blood, through staggered breaths. He stared, fighting the growing urge to kneel down and hold her. Hold her prone arms. Stop the blood pouring out. He shook his head, and she disappeared. He'd let himself just watch, as Colin carried the gravely wounded woman from the office. Was he telling himself he had actually been afraid of Colin? Don't be absurd, thought Granville.

He walked a little further on, stopped and leaned against the wall, looking at the passing cars. Only now did he worry that he might see Wormwood driving one of - no. It should have been Cromley experiencing the Banquo/MacBeth visions, not this poor bastard. Or more so Colin. The sick bastard had clearly taken pleasure in making sure Wormwood had been reduced to slush in a bathtub.

Granville watched. A blue car, a red car, a...turquoise car? A man - Cromley(?) - sat in the passenger seat. He couldn't quite make out the driver. Bastard, if only he had his gun on him - he could've put Cromley out of his godforsaken misery. Or, if Cromley had been standing here in Granville's place, just maybe, he would have walked into the traffic. One less miserable bugger to deal with.

Granville checked his watch. Six thirty. Dinner time. A big juicy burger, with all of the trimmings - or even a rare and raw steak, called his name. Harrison was likely doing the same, if eating was a function her race were capable of. Eating other races, perhaps. No, that's what Wormwood's race did. Harrison's controlled them. Controlled them to their death. Ah, the ever slippery, thuggish Bane. Wormwood wasn't either of those, of course. None of the others would have helped him escape from prison. Granville continued to watch the passing cars, before continuing down the footpath.

If Harrison could indulge in such a thing, let it be the last meal she would lay eyes on.