Clara marched along the corridor as fast as she could but even with her long legs and walking at a near gallop she was finding it hard to keep up with the Doctor. Although the Doctor seemed like he was just taking a gentle country walk he was moving surprisingly quickly. The place seemed deserted. Occasionally a nurse or porter could be seen milling about in some deserted corner waiting for something to do but the recent lull in the fighting meant there was only a handful of patients.
The hospital had been set up in a crumbling chateau but the boys had done a good job of covering up any evidence of this. The only sign of the now long lost opulence was the occasional trace of worn gilding peeping through the grey paint that now covered the Georgian panelling.
The Doctor stopped when he got to a small wooden door in a dark corner of one the most deserted corridors they had passed through. He placed his hand on the handle and looked carefully at Clara. As she caught up with him Clara looked at the word painted on the door in smudged red paint.
"Morgue" she read it aloud.
Clara could feel the Doctor's eyes looking at her, trying to gauge what she was thinking.
"Look Clara" he said "I know you are a fairly robust person and that in your time here you have seen some things that nobody should ever have to see".
He paused, his hand caressing the brass door handle as he tried to find the right words.
"But this is different, I don't just mean the bodies. You see trouble follows me, and the people around me. I'm not sure what I am going to find down here but I have enough of an idea to know that if you come with me your life will never be the same again."
He looked at her carefully, seemingly frozen in contemplation of what he had said. Clara looked at him, his eyes seemed soft and gentle but she could read something else in his expression. It was something he was trying to hide but if you looked hard enough you could read it in his face. There was an aura of anticipation, the kind of anticipation you see on a child's face on Christmas eve as he eyes the presents under the tree, knowing that many long hours will have to pass before he knows the secret behind the wrappings.
Clara stretched out her hand and placed it on the handle next to the Doctor's.
"Come on Doctor, we've got work to do" she said.
She turned the handle and pushed open the door.
As they descended into the cellar that the army had converted into the hospital morgue Clara looked back to make sure the door was still open. Apart from a few rusty oil lamps hanging at distant intervals around the walls the door was the only source of light.
When they had started to climb down the twelve worn steps the Doctor had wanted to lead the way. Clara was faster though and was halfway down before the Doctor knew what was happening. She stood peering through the gloom, silently taking in the scene before her. There were rows of old desks and tables spread randomly around the cellar. This was where the dead were kept, while they awaited their final journeys.
Normally this place would have been full to bursting with the faces she had seen go quiet in her ward. The smell would have been overwhelming but right now only a faint sweet odour hung in the air. There was only one body here now. Archie had been the only death for some time and now he lay alone without even the comfort of fallen comrades beside him.
Clara jumped as the Doctor brushed past her on his way towards the table where Archie lay under a frayed grey blanket. For a moment she had forgotten he was with her.
"Do you notice something?" he asked.
"What?"
"The smell"
"Well Doctor, considering this is a morgue it does not smell much at all"
"Precisely. Right now this place is empty but it was until recently full of bodies. Look around you, the only ventilation is that door we just came through. The air should not have cleared that quickly".
Clara looked back at the door and then ran her eyes over the cellar. The place was dark and damp, the sort of place where smells like to linger.
"What can you smell?" asked the Doctor.
Clara took in a breath of air.
"Roses and warm honey" she said surprised.
She thought she saw the Doctor's shoulders droop when she had said it. It was the motion of a man coming to terms with an unsavoury fact he would rather not face. Then in a single quick motion he pulled the blanket off the body.
"Oh Archie". He whispered.
Slowly Clara made her way over to the body. Gritting her teeth she made an effort to look at the body. Clara had seen a lot of men die, some of them just children, and there was something different about a body in death. Death was still, it was absolute final stillness. Even a body in the deepest coma still had signs of life, a glint in the eye or faint trace of breath from the mouth but a dead body did not move. That's what was hardest about looking at Archie now. Not the blood or the gaping wounds but the stillness.
The Doctor seemed to be out of his quiet moment of contemplation now. He was busily examining the marks and wounds on the body. Clara looked carefully at the wounds, and then she would not have to look at the face.
"Do you notice something about the body?" asked the Doctor.
Clara had not expected the question. She did not want to look to carefully.
"It's still" she whispered.
The Doctor looked up at her and briefly caught her gaze as she turned to look away. He paused for a moment, contemplating Clara's back as she moved away towards the door. He pulled the blanket back over the body and moved over to her.
"Sorry" he said.
"No it's alright, save your sympathy for Archie" she said without turning.
"The question still stands though, there was something very strange about that body"
Clara noted how deliberately the Doctor was using the term "the body" rather than using Archie's name. Clara turned around to face the Doctor and noticed the blanket was back in place. She looked the Doctor in the face, trying not to look at the blanket. She asked him what was so strange.
"How long has he been dead?" asked the Doctor.
"Well they brought the other boy in a couple of days ago"
"So by now there should be visible signs of decay"
"and a clear odour" Clara nodded.
"Exactly, but the body is as fresh as if he had died a moment ago and then there's the smell"
Clara crossed her arms.
"Roses and Honey" she said.
"Yes, I know how this happened. Sudden death through severe trauma, that sweet smell and body preservation. Plus the context of general slaughter is perfect cover. Until that is, this latest lull in the fighting"
What are you talking about?"
"I know what did this, I know we're all in danger and that boy, Tom, is innocent"
The Doctor was rushing agitatedly around his office, throwing aside anything that got in his way. He was rummaging through a particularly high pile of books when he let out a high pitched squeal of satisfaction.
"Found it," he yelled to the world in general.
He ran over to the desk clasping a large red book and slamming it down on top of the clutter strewn across its surface. Clara looked at the cover. It had gold writing embossed in some strange unreadable language. The Doctor noticed her trying to decipher the text.
"It's called the Feeding Habits of Trans-Dimensional carrion eaters by Doct…"
Clara put up her hand to stop the Doctor talking. He was so excited she was surprised he even noticed. The Doctor took the hint and opened the book. He spent a few moments flicking through what looked like an index and then quickly thumbed through the pages to find the section he was looking for.
The Doctor lay the book open on what he had found. Two pages of text, in the same strange script as she had seen on the cover, filled the pages. A single illustration of a worm with teeth was the only break in the text.
"There it is" said the Doctor as he pointed at the illustration.
Clara looked at the Doctor and raised an eyebrow. The Doctor did not seem the to notice the expression and started to explain.
"It's a Verlanian Gristle Grub"
The Doctor looked at Clara expecting to see realisation spreading across her face. Instead with a slight double take he finally noticed the raised eyebrow.
"What?" he said.
The same expression, the same raised eyebrow.
"I'm not mad you know" he continued.
The eyebrow raised slightly higher.
"Look Clara, do you trust me?"
Silence.
"Ok, let's try another tack, do you want to save Tom"
The eyebrow lowered, Clara nodded and turned to look at the illustration.
"They are very rare, usually you do not get more than one to a planet. Which is good. They feed of the carcasses they find at the scenes of disasters and war zones. They are scavengers and do not kill. That's good too".
"Good" said Clara.
"However" continued the Doctor.
"Oh, there's a however" said Clara.
"Indeed. There are only two occasions when a Verlanian will break cover and kill to feed. One is when they are close to starvation. Now with the lull in the fighting this looks like the likeliest scenario. Which means that it is weak and should be easy to catch"
"Which is good" said Clara while trying to smile.
"However"
"Another however?"
"Yes. The only other time a Verlanian will kill is when it is pregnant. When they are pregnant they need enough food for their offspring. Now to ensure their supply they need to hoard their.." the Doctor paused while he tried to find the right word.
"Food" finished Clara.
The Doctor nodded.
"Now when a Verlanian feeds normally they just finish their food then leave what's left to rot because they have no further use for it. But if they are pregnant and need to hoard it to feed their offspring then"
"They need to preserve it" finished Clara again.
Clara thought of Archie's body lying down in the morgue, refusing to decay.
"Now, do you want to good news or the bad news?" asked the Doctor.
Clara looked at the Doctor, a dazed expression on her face.
"Well" he continued "They good news is that up to the birth the grub is weak and as soon as they give birth they die".
Clara tried to manage a smile again but she saw the Doctors face and sensed what was coming next.
"The bad news is that they give birth to around thousand lava at once. Which means that with the current lack of war dead filling the trenches then anytime now thousands of hungry little worms are going to be wriggling through the trenches looking for food".
To be continued…….