chapter 19
I sway with the train, stepping beside Curtis. I feel my head tingling.
Edgar walks to us, pushing Tanya, Donna and Yona back.
The butchers menacingly wave their weapons, cutting through a carp to show us how sharp the blades of those axes are.
I study them, trying to ignore the voices in my head and the coming headache that I can't stop: they have protective gear on their arms, heavy duty gloves, security vests. The weapons: the axes, and then in the back, clubs, pikes.
These people are ready for bloodshed.
I could snatch their necks before they even noticed if I wanted to, but will I?
The Doctor appears behind me and brushes my hand.
Come on girl, you're on fire, the voice says.
Blood drips to the floor from the fish and from the blades.
"Be careful", Curtis warns Edgar.
"Yeah", he says, not at all reassured. "You too".
They take a deep breath and spring into action. I stammer back, the Doctor holding me up, as we basically just defend ourselves without engaging into action. We must look like idiots, I think. Someone slams into us, and he swiftly pushes me towards the window, falling to the ground. I slide quickly from an axe swaying over my head, and I slam into Naam. We stand up clumsily. Between my feet, I see the Doctor's sonic screwdriver sliding on the floor, and I can't stop it. The Doctor stands up and takes hold of my hand, entwining his fingers into mine even when I know he's checking around to make sure Donna is out of the commotion, and I really have to make an effort to stay calm. I make a mental note of where the sonic rolled away.
Fight, child.
I feel - I know, for sure, that if I start attacking the thugs I won't be able to stop myself. Part of me wants to - the more we move forward on this train, the more I want to punish the front sectioners for what they are doing to the people in the back; part of me know I shouldn't.
I watch as Naam slams down a butcher and Curtis grabs hold of his axe, sliding quickly through the enemies. Throats are cut, backs are stabbed. He moves fast and brave, until he slips on the fish and falls to the ground. He rolls to the side just inches away from a pike , slamming the axe in the ankle of a butcher, then deftly stands up. "Team 2!", Curtis directs.
Edgar moves almost as fast. It's clear he learned from him. "Team 2! Move forward!". He exorts. I follow him, letting go of the Doctor's hand.
The tailsectioners become more aggressive and confident but there's blood covering the windows. There's people on the ground, mostly tailsectioners.
What are you waiting for?
Without the Doctor's quiet presence to calm me down, it's harder to resist the urge to join the killing spree. My grip on the laser screwdriver tightens as I see the butcher in front of Curtis raising a blade bigger twice as Curtis', and I get ready to laser a hole in his forehead, and-
A bullhorn sounds loudly, covering the screams.
It's the japanese officer who directed Andrew's torture. He makes his way through the front end of the car, holding the atlas book again, and he talks into the bullhorn.
Everybody stops. Curtis, Edgar and I are stuck in the first line of combat, our arms raised, ready to hit, and we're so surprised to see the butchers army stop in the same way without attacking us that we, well, we just don't hit.
"Passing Yekaterina bridge!", the officer screams, while other officers behind him translate. "10, 9, 8...".
Everyone, rebel army and butchers, lower down their weapons to the side and look outside.
"7, 6, 5...", the officer counts. The train is crossing a vertigo-high ravine, the mountain almost vertical at the side of the rail. "4, 3..."
Everyone breathe hard alike, both sides of the battle.
"2, 1..." Edgar shakes his head, Curtis looks paralyzed. "...Happy New Year!".
The butchers' Army chants and cheer.
I'm feeling that Mr. Wilford, whoever he is, must be a little insane and crazy. Yep.
Bewildered, I look back at the Doctor to find him equally disturbed by the ceremony. What the hell. The scene would look grotesque, if we weren't basically all covered in blood. "Fuck, I hate getting old", Edgar groans. "I just hate it".
Curtis slowly looks out. I follow his gaze and we both realize what's happening just before the officer warns everyone.
"Everybody down!".
We all crouch down, Curtis's face glued to the window beside me, as the train makes a stiff turn. I take a look at the train. The silver, sleek rounded, bullet-shape nose of the engine car races along the frozen landscape. And it's ridicolously far away from us.
"Hold on!", Curtis screams, almost covering me with his body. It won't be an easy journey to there, butchering aside. We watch warily as the nose of the train pierces the snow and ice ahead like a sharp arrow-headed lance, while the front section races on. This Yekaterina bridge doesn't look that rock-solid now that I realize again how fast and long this train really is. Under us, a vast valley of frozen ice fields, who-knows-how many hundreds of feet down to the valley floor, the descent almost totally vertical.
"Impact!", the officer calls.
The train sways violently to the side, weapons and people rolling everywhere before it readjusts to the rail slamming hard into place. We check around, dazed, and everyone is stunned, butchers and rebels.
Naam, holding Yona on his back, moves to the window to look at something outside.
"Another one!", the officer screams into the bullhorn, and we prepare for another hit while Curtis looks at Naam, then at me.
His eyes are so desperate and at the same time, kind, that I'm suddenly aware of the laser screwdriver in my hands. What am I doing?
The train hits another giant ice boulder and we both cringe at the impact, almost as violent as the first one. People tumble and roll smashing into each other. Then it calms down, and there's a suspended, confused feeling that stays again before a third impact, when the train finally stops shaking, resuming its steady pace.
"Safe passage!", the officer cheers.
"We made it", Edgar exhales. The relieved quietness lasts for an instant, while Curtis and I stare into each other's eyes, then he resolutedly tightens his grip on the axe and swiftly pushes me aside to resume the fight with the butcher beside me.
Everyone is fighting again. I stand up beside Edgar, and a spear, fast and seemingly out of nowhere, hits the man standing at the other side of me. I hear, rather than see, another spear coming at Curtis and I push him aside before he's hit, almost wrestling him between my arms so that the spear hits his axe and falls to the ground.
He looks at me bewildered, then we both turn to where the spears came, and it's the Franco brothers, who make way for Minister Mason.
She's wearing white. Of course she's wearing white. Who wouldn't walk into a blooded messy battlefield wearing a white tailleur?
"Happy Yekaterina Bridge, you filthy ingrates!", she says into the microphone, stepping over a stool.
We regain breath, turning towards Mason. Immediately, the fighting urge comes back to me, and I almost crush my hand to hold the laser screwdriver tight. I try to calm down, checking around. Curtis, and Edgar, blood-spattered faces. Behind me, Naam, still holding Yona, who came forward during the weird new year celebration, The Doctor and Martha, a little behind, with the painter; Tanya, Donna, almost at the end of the car.
"You people, who if not for the benevolent Wilford, would have frozen solid 18 years ago today! You people! who would suck up on the generous titties of Wilford ever since! For food and shelter! And now...in front of our hallowed water supply section, no less! You pathetic stowaways, you repay his kindness with... violent... hooliganism?" Mason says. She's trying to sound cool but she's angrier than when she gave her speech during Andrew's torture.
Curtis is cringing.
"You people..." she continues, when the officer gives her a memo, and she turns it around to read. "...precisely 74% of you shall die".
Before she finishes reading, Curtis'arm moves faster than I expected, and I see his hand-axe flying whistling through the air, somersaulting toward Mason's head, unfortunately intercepted by Franco the Elder's iron hammer with a loud clang.
Mason regards Curtis, half-insane with rage, with a preternatural calm. "My friend", she says, not even flinching, "you suffer the misplaced optimism of the doomed".
We don't have time to protest, even if I see Curtis boiling with rage, because now Mason is stepping back, with a weird looking opera binocular. "This is going to be good", she states.
There's movement around the butchers' army, as they all wear military goggles.
"You guys are fucked", I hear Naam say.
"What?", Curtis asks, breathing hard, scrambling for the translator device, then turns to me. "What did he say?".
"You tailsection scum", Naam adds. "There's no way you know there's a tunnel right after Yekaterina bridge".
Yona repeats the second part, half smiling, still stoned from kronol.
"A tunnel?" Curtis repeats, as realization hits him.
"Hm-m", Yona nods, as if that didn't matter to her. Probably because Naam is shoving her into a side panel of the wall to keep her hidden. "A fucking long one", she adds as Naam closes the panel in her face again.
"What are you doing? Run", Naam suggests. I don't translate. Run- where? Not an option.
But the lights go out one by one as the train enters the tunnel. I quickly buzz the laser screwdriver for an instant, but its sharp laser green light is more a pointer than a light source. Why didn't I put a flashlight setting?
It's a massacre.
There's noise and clumsly clatter, as I feel people falling and tumbling, hesitantly moving under the butchers' fast and driven hits. "Doctor!" I call, but I know he was too far away from where his sonic screwdriver ended up. I'm hit and I fall to the ground. I lose grip on the laser screwdriver, the last thing I see in the flebile light before it falls to the ground turning off is Curtis, offering an arm to help me up. I feel blood on my body.
People are screaming, loud thuds and cutting sounds echo around the wagon. There's a slit in the mountain and for an instant I see the partial results of the slaughter. We're all covered in blood. We're standing over bodies piling up.
This will turn me, I think while I run my hand over my stomach, to my own blood. This is too much. I'm just standing by, getting hit, when I could instead fight back and save a lot of them. These people don't deserve this. You're bloody right, inner fighter. I am on fire.
Wait. Fire?
The matchbook.
"Fire", I whisper, realizing, then louder. "Curtis. Fire".
I feel his breath close to me as he pushes me to a wall as everybody else is doing, knowing that the butchers are more likely to hit in the middle of the wagon. "Fire", he repeats slowly, thinking. "Chan!", he screams. "We need fire!".
I rest my back on the wall, trying to regain my strenght. I close my eyes for an instant, even in the darkness, and I get a glimpse of the timeline we're in, feeling that it just switched from an outcome to another. Chan, lighting a match, a torch. He runs through the tail section. Andrew grabbing it with his only hand, running fast through the food hall, up until the protein block supply car. More torches. Grey snatches Andrew's from his hands and runs. And wow, he's fast.
I open my eyes. What is a distant light at the end of the car becomes brighter and brighter, until Grey and the other runners are at the end of our wagon. "Officer Fuyu! Don't look at me! Stop them!", Mason screams franticly, pointing at the torches.
But Grey and the runners are too fast, and bringing up the fire is so unexpected for the army that in an instant we all have torches in our hands and the fight resumes impartial.
Well, not impartial, because Grey is here, and he's one of the best warriors I've ever seen. I can't find my laser screwdriver anywhere so I grab a torch too and I start swinging it around, trying to keep people away from Curtis and Edgar, while watching Grey as he swiftly almost flies through the room until he gets hold of Fuyu, a blade pointed to his neck as he makes him read from his arm. Surrender. Die. "Surrender!", Fuyu orders. "Surrender or I'll die!", he cries, but Mason just shrugs. Grey slits his throat, drops him to the ground and runs past other fighters, crouching down to avoid one of the Francos and finally hitting Mason's leg as she tries to balance down the stool, before getting hit himself.
Curtis and I exchange a glance and we move towards her as she stammers to the gate at the end of the car, a female officer holding her as they try to make their way to the next wagon.
Franco the older tries to hold back Curtis but he's too furious, knowing we won't likely have another chance to get Mason. Franco seems surprised by his effort for an instant and lets him go past, but I slam into him. He punches my stomach, where I'm still hurting, grabs hold of my lepels and turns me to hold me by the neck. Ouch. Grey is laying on the ground, catching his breath.
As I'm turn around, I spot Martha running towards me. Words die in my mouth as I see the other Franco brother launching to her, but Edgar cuts in, pushes her away. And heìs caught instead. In an instant, Martha is breathing hard on the floor, and Edgar is trapped into the big man's arms.
"Curtis!", Edgar screams. The other Franco is holding him the same way I'm being held, but with a giant, shiny dagger at his side.
With the corner of my eye, I see Curtis hesitate. I feel time slowing down as he turns from Mason, to Edgar, to me. He cringes, closing his eyes.
"Go!" I scream, high-pitched. "Get her!", I insist, and it's like a wake up call- he gives me and Edgar a last sad look and goes to Mason. Where's the Doctor? I can't even see him in this mess.
I scramble to break free of Franco's grip, still looking at Edgar who's about to end badly. Not that I'm in any advantage, actually. An arm across my troath, a dagger in his hand, the other holding my stomach. Don't think the Franco brothers will keep us alive for long now that Curtis is going to Mason anyway.
I feel something metallic brush my hand.
Edgar's gaze moves from my eyes to my hand, without nodding.
I look down. Grey's silently placing the laser screwdriver in my hands.
Carefully, I close my fingers around it, switching the settings quickly. I channel Time Lord speed, because I know I have to be fast if I want to save Edgar too. I turn the screwdriver in my hand until the tip points up, and I activate it.
Zing goes the laser on the dagger. I elbow Franco back as he loosens his grip, hitting him as hard as I can to let me go. As he struggles to keep his hold of me, I point the laser at the other Franco, stepping ahead with my other arm still in his grip. Grey lifts up and start punching him, crushing him to the window. At the same time, Edgar struggles out of young Franco's grip. I see his dagger move in the same moment as I aim and fire the laser at his wrist, and his hold on Edgar becomes unstable and he slips away, the dagger trailing a long cut on his back.
"No!" Martha and I scream in unison, as she rushes to him. I push her out of the way while Franco the young lifts the dagger from the ground and charges.
"Stop! Everybody stop!" Mason cries.
I hear, as much as feel, Franco's dagger cutting through my skin at the base of the shoulder.
"Drop your weapons!" Curtis orders.
Franco takes a breath, then lets go.
"For crying out loud, do as he says!", Mason cries.
Curtis is holding Mason by the throat. At his feet, Grey shoves Franco the elder, tying his hands behind his back. The officer who was trying to escape with Mason has run away from the gate.
Yona climbs out of her hiding place, looking around for her father. The Doctor, looking tired, picks up his sonic screwdriver from the floor, between two bodies. His eyes meet mine but I see something move fast by my side as I clench my shoulder.
Franco the young makes a run through the car towards him. Or Yona. The Doctor pushes her to the side, out of his way, stomping - involuntarily? or not?- over a spear, which, consequently levered, plunges up through Franco's body. He lifts a hand to Yona, agonizing, as the Doctor keeps her away. "Don't look", he whispers to her, looking at the room. She gulps in the Doctor's arms.
Martha turns Edgar's unconscious body over and rips his jacket off to assess the damage. She inspects the contents of her cross-body medical bag, searching for... well I don't know what could save Edgar at this point. Gilliam steps over to her, nodding. When she crouches down, I see the Doctor on the other side, comforting Yona as he passes her to her father's arms.
We look at each other from across the room with tired eyes. I mean, we're Time Lords, and we're exhausted. I can't imagine how everybody else is feeling. Curtis slides down the window wall, sitting by my side, breathing loudly. He takes his cap off and runs a hand through his short hair, and moves as to rest his head on my shoulder when he notices I've been hurt.
"You've-", he starts, then a buzzing interrupts us. I lift my hand and the laser screwdriver is blinking again. I pull myself up from the wall, still sitting, searching for the Doctor. Curtis gives us a puzzled look. He's striding towards me, the sonic screwdriver blue light blinking as vividly.
"Might be the Tardis waking up?", I ask him when he's in front of me.
"You okay?", he asks worriedly, crouching down, as if only now noticing my cuts. I nod. My clothes are ripped apart and I'm covered in blood, but I feel the cuts already healing. He stares into my eyes. "You... We'll talk later. I'd better check the Tardis. I'll bring Donna with me. Be safe", he groans, then lifts up again, walking back. He places a hand on Martha's shoulder. "You too".
I can't help but be admired at her. I wanted to leave again after that whole UNIT mess, but I'm used to the Tardis going where she wants. Or, to going where the Tardis wants me to. But her... she really didn't have to go through this, and there she is, determined to save as many people as she can. Maybe she really is better than me. Braver than me.
The negotiation at the end of the clean and tiled water supply section isn't quiet and calm. I shake my head to dry my hair while I catch up with Curtis and Gilliam as they barely interrupt Tanya and Andrew from killing Mason.
"Wilford likes kids. That's why he sends that yellow cloth worm to...well... It's... It's Wilford you want, not me", Mason says, scared, waving her chained hands.
Tanya and Andrew look at one another, not sure how to continue. Breaking the silence, Gilliam speaks behind them.
"Wilford likes kids?", he snorts. "All he cares about is his ratched engine".
"The Engine is Saaaacred..." Mason corrects, "and Wilford is divine...Wilford... is merciful!".
Quietly, from the dark corner, Curtis speaks. "Call him", he says, matter-of-factly. "See if he saves you".
"Yes", Gilliam agrees. "Wilford the merciful... call him".
Mason flinches. She turns to Curtis, as if dismissing Gilliam as the leader.
"He won't come here. He won't leave his Engine..."
"We're going to rip you into little pieces... He still won't come?".
Something in the calm rage he keeps is terrifying. Mason struggles to maintain her composure.
"When we control the water, he'll have to come here when we turn it off", Curtis adds.
"Turn it off? You'll only be condemning your own people. The water comes from the front. The nose of the train breaks up the snow and ice and converts it to water". she explains, looking more confident now. "Like an elephant trunk... the water comes in the mouth! not in the bum, Curtis".
Curtis flinches as Mason mentions his name.
"Yes, Wilford knows you well, Mr. Curtis Everett". Curtis, confused, stares at Mason sharply. "He has been watching you. And we know you won't harm your own people,
Curtis". Something makes my mind cringe when she says his name. She's smug now. "Too bad you couldn't save your own second in command. What was his name - Edgar?".
"Shut the fuck up!", he suddenly cuts, jumping from his dark corner in front of her, his dagger at her throat, a murderous look in his eyes.
"Curtis! Curtis! I can help you!", she corrects. Smugness, gone.
"You can fucking die is what you can do", Curtis snarls.
"No, I can help you, I swear!" She's almost crying now. "Listen to me. Wilford won't come here. You'll have to go to him and I can take you!", she pleads, nodding. "I know the train. I can guarantee you safe passage...".
"Why the fuck would I trust you?", Curtis wonders.
She seems to think about it, her lips twitching. "Because I want to live".
"So you'd sell out Wilford the Benevolent?", I ask.
She ignores me. "If I take you to the front, you have to kill him. I'll get you close enough. Kill him and let me live", she repeats. Then, as if to prove she's trustworthy, she takes off her upper... dentures. I don't understand why someone would have dentures that look that bad. "Curtis?", she pleads, muffled. Curtis, Tanya and Andrew look at each other, and I take a step back to the other room.
The Doctor shows up with Martha. "How's Edgar doing?" I ask her.
"Still unconscious, but I stopped the bleeding. Nothing much we can do now but wait", she says, sadly.
I nod. "The Tardis?".
"I'll tell you later... oh", the Doctor says, lowering his voice, his gaze darting up to brush a strand of wet hair away from my eye. "That's why everybody was clean. Almost impossible to disinguish tail sectioners from the prisoners, if not for clothing now", he notices, and he can't hide a slightly suspicious look.
"Where's Donna?", Martha asks.
"Last time I saw her, she was... babysitting at the back", the Doctor replies. "I bet you'll find her sleeping surrounded by children if you make your way there", he suggests. Martha nods, then turns to me.
"You okay?", she asks again.
"Yes", I answer sternly. "Thank you".
"I'll see you two later. Stay out of trouble", she warns, pointing her finger between us, then walks away.
The Doctor carefully places a hand on my shoulder, brushing me away from the people passing by with blankets, preparing themselves for the night. I rest my back against the wall a step ahead from where Gilliam and Grey are laying down. "What?", I ask.
"Don't think I don't notice what you do, Zoe", he says softly. "You've been great today".
I smile faintly. "Great would have been if I got Edgar out in time".
"We'll fix him. Martha took good care of him, and as soon as the Tardis is back at work, I assume the med bay will have her share of work".
"So, is she working?".
"Not yet. But she's waking up. I'm afraid she wants to stay out of it".
I smirk. Can't really reply to that. If the Tardis doesn't cooperate, she'll have her good reasons.
"Anyway", he keeps. "I've kept my eyes on you. First line, and you didn't attack".
Ah, Doctor. Who knows how many more would be alive if I did? If we both did?
"Headaches?", he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"A little bit, when the battle started". I admit. "I'm fine now. I've been fine before too, actually. Didn't black out or anything, just... just a, uhm, sensation", I add.
He nods, relieved, then runs a hand down my shoulder, where my t-shirt is still blood stained and visibly ripped. His fingers trail through the fabric, caressing my clean skin. "Just... be careful".
I groan, letting my back slide down the wall until I'm sitting down, my elbows on my knees. "I know. Stop repeating that".
"Zoe", he says, crouching down closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I thought be careful was a sound advice, but maybe I need to be more specific. Never assume you can get away with getting hurt just because you're a Time Lord, okay? You're tough, and stronger, but that doesn't make you immortal".
I blush. "I know", I admit. I mean, I hate admitting he's right, but I might have been a little too confident playing with death earlier.
"Please take this as a friendly advice, Zoe, seriously. Don't think for one second that you're ready to regenerate". I groan. "You're way too young to do that. Last time I regenerated, it ended with a very messy Christmas Eve and Torchwood basically putting your old Earth in serious jeopardy".
I take a deep breath as the Doctor slowly leans over to kiss my forehead. It's a sweet kiss, he lingers there. I smile as he rests his head on my shoulder for an instant and I spot Curtis, who's looking at me, draping a blanket on the floor.
He breaks eye contact as soon as our eyes meet, while the Doctor rolls and sits to the side. Still looking at Curtis, I rest my head on the Doctor's shoulder. He nods to him and Gilliam, but I feel like he's shaking me off. He stands up, stretching his legs, then walks a few steps away until he's looking at the darkness outside the window.
"You don't sleep much, do you?", Curtis smiles, looking at us.
"Don't need to", I shrug.
"Time Lords... right", Curtis smiles bitterly. "You've been crucial today".
"Yeeeah", I smile nonchalantly. "That's us".
"Not us", he corrects, sharply. "You". I suddenly have to check something in my boots laces to avoid blushing furiously. "Who are you?", he asks, puzzled, curious, suddenly standing up to sit down in the corner beside me.
"Zoe. At your service. Just trying to help".
"Because you can", he quotes, smiling.
"Yes".
"That's it?".
"That's it", I smile.
"You speak... Korean. If you didn't think about the fire, we would all be dead now. And I saw you bleeding. Ripped apart. And you not only survived, you healed. Look at you, you don't even have a scratch. Are you... immortal? You... fired a rifle to your head".
"I'm not immortal".
"You act as dangerously as if you were".
"You would have tried that rifle for yourself if I didn't cut in".
"This is my fight. You didn't have to do that. You could have died right there".
"Not sure, even if they did have bullets. But you, you would have died for sure if they did have them".
"A risk I was willing to take".
"That's what I meant. I'm here so you could not take that risk".
"I still find it hard to believe you joined our fight... all in, just like that", he sighs, looking up. "The more we moved forward, the more I realized having you by my side made me feel... safer. And I didn't even trust you at first".
"Glad I've earned your trust. But I wasn't that crucial, you know. You're the hero, here".
He smiles. "Don't be modest. It sounds as if you're fishing for compliments".
"I'm not being modest, trust me. I really... look, I didn't even fight".
"I noticed that. It felt like you were holding yourself back".
Oh. Hello, guilt. A few steps aside, the Doctor shakes his head quickly as to wave his hair. I check him with the corner of my eyes and I realize he's listening. "I really didn't make that much of a difference. Everything I did, you would have done it by yourself".
"I couldn't have saved Edgar".
"A risk you were willing to take", I quote.
"Yeah", he chuckles bitterly. "So I guess you're right, luckily I didn't have to. Because you were there".
I look away. I don't want to be his hero. He is the hero of this story.
He gives me a hopeful look. "Will he make it through?".
"He's in good hands", I reply. "And if the Tardis is in fact working, he'll be out of the bushes any minute now", I smile faintly, wondering why I'm lying like that.
"Thanks for the optimism, but your machine isn't working", he suggests. "Ain't that right? Because if it was working you all would already be gone".
I smile. He's clever. "Right. I'm afraid it's not working yet. But if it was, we'd be using it to help you out, not to escape".
"We'd need a miracle, more than help. 18 years... I don't believe in miracles anymore, if I ever did in the first place", he smiles bitterly.
"What do you believe in, then?", I ask.
"Well now that you're here, I'm starting to believe there's a universe out there. That there must be life".
"The Tardis", I lean forward, explaining. "It could send a sos signal to outer space. Get you help. Help you fix this planet. Or if you don't want to, damn, it could take all of you to a different planet. There are thousands of unexplored, livable planets out there. We could board you all".
"We are quite a lot of stowaways, even for a ship that big", he jokes.
"The Tardis is infinite".
"Let me guess. There's infinite food and water supply on board".
"The way it's grown, a Tardis contains infinite possibilities for everything. It could have parks and gardens and plantations, and waterfalls and lakes from every part of the universe. It's a perfectly working ecosystem".
The Doctor lowers his head, checking his shoes. I mean Curtis isn't exactly whispering, so he's not eavesdropping. It's more like he's witnessing this half-private exchange. He doesn't say a word, but if I know what he's thinking, he doesn't want me to build up Curtis'expectations. Not while the Tardis is still off. I stop talking.
"You have that, and yet you just... travel around", Curtis says, as if realizing my own mistake. "Who are you?", he repeats. "You and your Doctor, this is what you do? Running around joining hopeless wars and desperate causes?".
"Not my Doctor. And not always, but that happens a lot, yes".
"A mysterious alien, running around saving the universe, and she's stuck by my side". His head rolls to the side until his eyes are inches away from mine. "Thank you", he says, seriously.
"Don't thank me. The fight isn't over, is it?".
He looks around, pondering what to say next.
"Curtis?", I insist. He sighs, warily.
"Answer the outsider", Gilliam suddenly says, lifting up from his bedding. "Are you still determined to push ahead?".
As to prove he's as brave as he should be, he becomes suddenly resolute. "Of course. We're not even halfway".
"You've made it further than anyone else. Certainly further than McGregor, four years ago", Gilliam says.
The Doctor turns back to us, standing up beside me. Curtis and Gilliam acknowledge his presence with a gaze, then Curtis takes a deep breath and goes on. "Ten cars, twenty cars, it's all the same thing. It makes no difference unless we make it all the way to the front. To the engine", he says, determined. "They'll just regroup and attack us again. We have to pull them out by the roots".
"But, so many have been killed. We've lost so many, and so have they", Gilliam insists. The Doctor's scrutinizing him as he talks.
"I know", Curtis agrees. He feels the weight of all those deaths on himself.
"Have you seen our men? They are exhausted", Gilliam laments. "I told them to wash themselves so I could assess the damage. So many injured. Your doctor friend is still working back there".
Curtis nods, sad but unshaken. He turns to me, as if to check my consent, then speaks to Gilliam without looking at him. "Let me go ahead".
Gilliam looks around, sighing, as if the idea never crossed his mind. The Doctor's eyebrows twitch.
"He's got Mason now, he can move more quickly", he cuts in, as if testing Gilliam.
I nod. Curtis nods. "You stay here with the wounded. Guard our prisoners. Let me take the engine, then I'll call for you to lead us".
Gilliam smiles bitterly. "Stop it, Curtis. Why are you doing that? You know very well that you're already our leader", he shakes his head. "You have to accept that".
"How can I lead", he chooses his words carefully, "when I still have two good arms?".
Gilliam pulls out his glasses and looks at Curtis gently, reaching out to Curtis' left arm with his hook. With his hand, he slowly rolls up the sleeve. Just an inch from his elbow there's an old and deep scar.
"It's faded out", Gilliam says.
I'm not understanding this. It's like he's ashamed of having both arms. He shrugs off Gilliam's hand and pulls his sleeve down.
"Better to have both arms", Gilliam states. "You can't do much with one, you know?
Especially when you hold a woman", he says, tilting his head to me. Whoa. Caught a little by surprise there, Mr. Gilliam. Excuse me? "it's much better with two arms", he repeats. "Wouldn't you agree?", he says, pulling his glasses off, and I don't know if he's talking to me or Curtis.
Uhm. Ignoring whatever he's implying.
Curtis looks at me. Gilliam lets the tension linger a little longer, then speaks again. "When you get to the narrow bridge, big gate with a W on it, Wilford's behind that". He takes a deep breath. "When you get to him, don't let Wilford talk", he says sternly. "Cut off his tongue".
Uh.
He turns away and lies down again. Curtis scratches his head, looking up, then his gaze turns to me. He doesn't say a word. I feel like he's waiting for me.
The Doctor, arms crossed, leans down until his face is almost at the same height as mine. I look into his eyes from sideways and we don't need to speak much.
"I'm coming with you", I state. How can I say no to someone -a leader- who says he feels safer if I'm around?
"Be safe", the Doctor repeats gently, then kisses my head. This time, I feel like he's really concerned. This conversation with Gilliam left me a little unsettled too.
"You too", I nod as he walks away without looking back.
I can't sleep, so I watch Curtis as he sleeps for a few hours until the sun dawns again. The short, starlit night is quickly replaced by the sunlight, shining ablaze, reflecting hard on the white surface of this earth. I glue my forehead to the window, searching for any sign of life in the iced snowscape, when I feel a shadow at my back. Curtis is up. He doesn't say a word, and he doesn't look at me, following my gaze outside. He pats my back reassuredly but I think he's trying to boost his own confidence rather than mine.
The crowd gathers to sends us on our mission. I search for the Doctor but I don't see him, nor Martha or Donna. Hopefully, he's back at the Tardis.
You're alone now, child, my inner psycho voice says chirping. I shrug it off, shaking my shoulders.
Gilliam is talking Grey into joining us in the quest for the head of the train. He's reluctant, but in the end he agrees and follows Gilliam's suggestion, walking up to my side. Curtis is already checking up while Naam and I start working on the gate, and Tanya and Andrew are holding Mason chained.
When the painter gathers us for a portrait, Andrew puts his shoe on top of Mason's head.
The laser screwdriver clicks. Something sparkles between Naam's fingers. Yona turns to Curtis, expectantly.
"Kronol?", she asks.
We go forward.