The hole wasn't as deep as they had expected- merely like 10 feet- so both of them were positively surprised by the short climb. From above it had looked that deep because the darkness was as "thick" as in the great warehouse.
Sherlock inspected their setting with his light. At first it seemed like a small room with nothing but dusty stonewalls from which dirt was tickling down and stuffy air- until the detective whispered, "Over here."
A narrow corridor diverted from the smallish chamber they were standing in. It looked ruinous and the low ceiling gave the impression as if it could collapse any minute.
Almost at the same time the Doctor and Sherlock began to move. The hallway was too narrow for them to walk next to each other despite their skinny figures. So Sherlock swiftly went ahead in order to lead on and hence didn't have to follow the other man- or whatever he was- again. A problem, though, posed the pretty low ceiling and as the two of them were tall they had to walk crouched.
"Jesus!," the Doctor thought when he nearly hit his head on a drooping beam which underpinned the stone above them. "This must've been built when mankind was still crawling on all fours!" Just like Sherlock he didn't like to bring up the rear.
Gradually the corridor got a bit wider and steadier – the ceiling was high now and it seemed in general way saver. Additionally they were no longer walking down but their way led slightly upwards now.
While walking the Doctor tried different settings of his sonic screwdriver on the still broken torch – a noise Sherlock found absolutely annoying. After a minute or so he stopped abruptly and turned furiously around to the Doctor who could just prevent himself from bumping into him.
"What's the matter?"
"Your… whatever it is – device!" He enlightened the doctor, frowning. "How am I supposed to listen for suspicious sounds with this thingy buzzing around?"
"Yeah, right – sorry." Suddenly he narrowed his brows and raised his forefinger. "Shush!"
"You can't shush – "
"Do you hear that?"
Sherlock listened carefully and – yes – an unidentifiable sound rang in his ears, something that could be groaning.
The Doctor squeezed past Sherlock. " You stay here", he breathed determinedly. "I'll go and have a look. Don't – oh, just don't wander off", he added. The Doctor already hurried down the in darkness dipped hallway before Sherlock could tell him he'd no way stay behind. Since the Doctor had no light, merely the faint blue glint of his screwdriver he had to feel along the walls.
All along since Rose had disappeared the thought that something could have happened to her didn't let go of him. His fear sharpened his mind and yet it made it difficult sometimes to collect his thoughts.
Occasionally the moaning faded away but in general it was getting closer with every step he took. Suddenly his fingertips felt a different ground, not as cold as the stone. He inspected the wall with the light of his sonic device. It was a dark wooden door – at least it seemed to be. Carefully the Doctor placed his ear at the door and listened – and yes! – the noises he had heard definitely came from behind the door but they were very muffled which suggested that he had a pretty thick door ahead. He let the light slide along the door searching for a keyhole or a handle – but in vain. It was more like a plain wooden panel than a proper passageway.
"Why", the Doctor muttered upset. "Why does it have to be wood?" His sonic screwdriver was fairly useless now except –
He scanned the stone walls for what could be a mechanism, something hidden to open the door.
All out of a sudden the alleged door slowly started to open, scratching over the floor. The Doctor furrowed his brows. He hadn't done anything. With his assumption about the diameter of the door he'd been correct. It amounted to at least 16 inches and cautiously he put a foot across the threshold. 'Very careful now', he reminded himself, it was most likely – undoubtedly – a trap.
As he entered elongated white tubular lamps flared up on the ceiling. It was a teeny rectangular room that stretched to his right. At first he thought it was completely empty but when he turned to the right he realised at a blow that all of his presumptions and fears had just been proven correct.
Just in front of the shabby grey wall were two stands covered by red histoid-stuff. He could see two pairs of shoes jutting under the tissue. One of them where the white-grey trainers Rose had worn all day. The Doctor hesitated no longer and rushed forward to free her and the other person who was – of course – John.
"Doctor", she muttered faintly, cracking a smile when he uncovered their faces.
"You all right? John, you too?"
Both of them nodded but John didn't look good at all. He was a bit green and was now breathing heavily. "Doctor, I don't understand – when I arrived at Mister Barlows' there was –"
But the Doctor interrupted him:" It's OK now. Sherlock is waiting in the tunnel. We need to get out of here, so I'll explain later." He got cracking to tear the tissue-stuff which fettered Rose and John. Suddenly the three of them heard footsteps. The Doctor spun around and saw Sherlock bursting into the room. His eyes narrowed. "John?"
"I thought I'd told you not to follow me!" the Doctor yelled. But before either of them could say another word there were more footsteps and a second later Rose and John entered.
The next moment several things happened at once. A flashing white light filled the room, someone screamed and both, the Doctor and Sherlock, felt how their lower arms were grabbed so firmly from behind that it hurt. With hands on the back they couldn't move one muscle of their arms. As Sherlock turned his head a little he saw two thick reddish arms holding him in the palm of his hands. The creatures had taken its original shape again. Besides, the smell the creature exuded was unbelievable.
"No!" the Doctor suddenly exclaimed. (It took neither John nor Sherlock longer than a second) to realize that they were no longer in this shabby little box room. Their current location was – undoubtedly – a spaceship since their view to the left hand side showed-well, the earth shining in the light of the moon and setting itself apart from the dark piceous background.
Neither Sherlock nor John who was still (just like Rose) enchained, couldn't believe their eyes. John had kind of believed in life in outer space – like most people do – but he never thought aliens would ever appear in his life, let alone encounter them or enter a spaceship.
Sherlock, however, still believed it some trick or that he must have been drugged. At least that was what he wanted to believe. But deep inside he knew due to the events of that day that it was real.
As soon as they had caught a brief glimpse of the new surroundings a projection materialized on the big grey wall with pipelines above two double doors opposite the small group. It was only a small section from a room they could see which nevertheless seemed quite large. One Zygon was sitting in a plain, pale (greyish) chair without armrests and another creature was standing right behind him.
"Ha, gotcha!" cried the Doctor. "There you are – you're exactly who I wanted to talk to!"
"And you are who we wanted to talk to." The voice was ghastly – a hissing that could send shivers down one's spine.
"What are you?" This question came from Sherlock who had a slightly panic expression in his eyes, yet his facial expression hadn't changed a bit – it was still blank and emotionless.
"You were useful, too, but now redundant. Keep your mouth shut and I will deal with you and your companion later. Otherwise you will be poisoned at the spot." The Zygon behind Sherlock raised one arm so that the others could see sharp stings in his palm.
"Why useful? To get over them to me?" the Doctor went on. "And all this new technology: teleportation, this spaceship … You were not like this when we've met last time. So tell me, Zygon commander – whatever-your-name-is – what's happened, who do you work for?"
The Zygon hissed. "We only wanted you and now we do, Doctor, finally!"
"Yeah? Pleasure, but what exactly are you gonna do with me, eh? You're obviously not many, otherwise this room'd be filled with Zygons, not only with two of them." He nodded with his head over to the pair of Zygons in the room. And why else didn't you all those people you've kidnapped? This would've made far less – ah, I see."
"Doctor?" Rose asked with wide opened eyes from behind.
"They only wanted my attention", he said calmly. "Didn't you?" he turned to the screen. "Of course I would try and save them, already back in the parallel world. And when the rift suddenly opened they slipped through. They must have known we would come, too – but how?"
"We opened the gap."
The Doctor blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"We opened the gap between the two worlds", the Zygon repeated and his nasty smile made the creature look even more atrocious.
"No, no, no, no", the Doctor objected, narrowing his eyes. "You can't just open it. That's impossible- at the very least for you. Where did you get help?"
The Zygon made no reply to that. "We only wanted you destroyed, eventually."
"But what did he do?" Rose asked furiously.
"Rose, keep yourself out!" the Doctor shouted. "But still", he continued, "this is a very good question. What did I do to make you want to kill me so desperately? 'Cause I s'ppose you went through a lot of trouble in order to prepare everything."
"Oh", the Zygon said. "I think you know that very well, Doctor." Rose stared at him and he was quite confused himself as well. Sure, he had been fighting against Zygons on many occasions but this time it was different. He hadn't encountered them randomly, they'd done everything to get hold of him and had waited specifically for him. There had to be greater interests at work. "No, I don't, but just answer me this: what good did it do to come to this world, why not destroy me right there in the parallel world? I was so close, I nearly had to."
"Ah, Doctor", the Zygon snarled, "in other ways you are so all-knowing, too. If you are not aware of it why should we tell you? Now, bring them to chamber 21, your execution will be prepared. The Doctor" – he grinned ghastly, "and the girl."
"What? Why? She is not your enemy. She hasn't done anything."
The two Zygons in the room steered them to the door, clutching to their upper arms. The Doctor turned his head around, looked Sherlock directly into the eyes. It was a very meaningful look and the detective noticed something small and longish slip out of the pocket of the Doctor's suit.
"Exactly." Both Zygons which they could see on the screen creased their faces into a grin.
"But before your death we want you to suffer. We will kill her first."
"Doctor!",John yelled but they were already outside the door, which shut behind them.
"I had nearly forgotten you two, you were so quiet." The Zygon cocked its head.
"You will wait here…" Suddenly their vision began to blur. "…wait for your fate…"
The voice faded away and darkness surrounded them.