DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Thanks to readers and reviewers! Here's another installment…

Connor traced a sad face on the window. He had given up on trying to watch the landscape. The driving rain made visibility very poor. His hangover was almost gone, courtesy of Abby's cure, and now the young student was bored. There weren't even any more doughnuts left to distract himself with. The others had eaten the leftovers.

"How much further?" he asked, in a low, croaky voice.

Stephen held back a snort. "About an hour. It's quite isolated."

"Great. Killer creature. Nowhere to go for help. I think I've seen this film."

"Don't complain. It was this, or Lester's team building exercise."

The suggestion hadn't been met with enthusiasm by Cutter, and it was with a certain guilty relief that they were headed toward North Yorkshire. Since the Professor's strange behaviour after they had tried to return the future creatures to their own time, the atmosphere in the ARC had become even more tense. Of course, bringing Jenny Lewis into the picture hadn't helped. Connor winced at the memory of their recent mission to rid an office building of killer worms. A small grin crossed his face. Sometimes the job sounded strange, even to him.

"They're quiet."

Stephen nodded. "They're asleep."

Abby had declared she was going to have a nap immediately after Connor had woken up and been given all his anti-hangover instructions. She looked very peaceful. Cutter had just leant against the front passenger window and closed his eyes. In fact, he probably wasn't asleep – just trying to avoid all human contact at this unearthly time in the morning. Stephen sympathized.

"Are we nearly there yet?"

"Funny, Connor."

There was a snicker from the back seat. "I thought so." he said. "Seriously though."

Stephen glanced at the road sign coming up in front of them. "Forty five minutes. Give or take."

Connor settled back down, presumably to sleep, and suddenly the car was quiet again. Stephen enjoyed the peace while he could, well aware that things could get far too noisy before the day was over. He checked the speedometer, and pressed down heavily on the accelerator. Somewhere just outside the tiny Yorkshire village of Brecombe, a local businessman had ended up running from a creature that had probably eaten one person already. Local police had investigated, and immediately called for help, well aware that this was beyond their expertise. Stephen wondered if they realized just how lucky they were not to be caught by the creature, whatever it was.

At the edge of the village, they passed the first of many old stone buildings. The village was tucked away from major roads and large towns, and had escaped modernization, for the most part. Brecombe grew smaller every year, as young people moved away and the oldest residents died. Once it had been quite a bustling place. It was still just large enough to accommodate a pub, a village hall (comprising of part-time doctor's clinic, library, and theatre, with a chapel off to the side), and two small shops.

The Brecombe police force actually belonged to nearby Skipton. There was just one part-time policeman assigned to the village, and it was him Cutter shook hands with first. Stephen smiled inwardly at that. Politics. His boss might deny all knowledge of it, but he certainly knew the rules. Sergeant Franklin ushered them all inside the police station – actually one small room, with an overloaded desk to one side and a kitchenette at the back. He looked around awkwardly for chairs.

One of the young constables produced – as if from nowhere – a pile of fold-down picnic chairs. "Dave from the pub said we could 'ave 'em, long as we give 'em back." he said.

Cutter sat down. "You said there was an animal attack?

"Looks like. We called Animal Control, but they must've referred it onto you." Franklin said. "Local dairy owner reported it. He was coming to the village to chase up one of his milkmen, and came across the lad's abandoned car." He paused. "Gareth's never exactly been ordinary, but we thought he'd really lost it. Rambling about giant lizards."

"Ah – yeah. We're specialists. It could be an escaped lizard, something somebody imported, then realized they couldn't keep. Happens a lot."

Abby smiled thinly. She realized with a strange feeling that they had all become much better liars since the anomalies had started making themselves known.

Franklin nodded. "You'll know all about Ben? Let me tell you about our other problem…"