DARK HOLIDAY
CHAPTER SEVEN
The old caravan ground its way up the mountain road. Behind the wheel, the elderly Mr. Williams called out, “Where to now, Mrs. Plock?” Mrs. Williams giggled, when she heard that. ”Where do you do come up with these names for us, dear? Plock? Sounds like the noise a fish would make, when it hits the water.” He flashed her a michevious grin, “But it’s such a nice, innocent sounding name, isn’t it, my sweet?” Mrs. Williams was reading a map, which was spread out in her lap. She looked up affectionately at her husband. “What about Loch Ness, dear? I read where they are holding some sort of monster festival this weekend, we’d fit right in, there.” The elderly pair exchanged looks and burst out laughing. Their laughter was cut short when the caravan topped the tall rise they’d been climbing. For there, halfway down the steep hill, smack in the middle of the tarmac, was an old blue police box.
A few yards in front of the Tardis, the Doctor was stood on the pavement, his face grim. Mr. Williams stopped the caravan. “Uh-oh, misus. Reckon we’re in trouble?” His wife glared at the figure of the Doctor, standing there tall and resolute, the only movement that of the wind, unfurling the tails of his long coat, and ruffling his tousseled hair. In his hand was gripped his sonic screwdriver. The old woman’s eyes narrowed, the map falling from her lap, as she leaned forward, eagerly. “Run him down.” Her husband turned to her, not entirely sure he liked that idea. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’d have to really step on the petrol going down the hill, and I don’t know if the brakes will hold.”
Mrs. Williams gave her husband a scornful look. “Come on, shift. I’ll do it, if you’re afraid.” A couple of minutes later, the old woman was seated behind the steering wheel, staring out the windscreen at the Doctor, who was standing as solidly as a boulder in the road. Mrs. Williams gunned the petrol a few times, then hit the cavavan into gear, barrelling down the hill, headed right for the Doctor. The caravan picked up speed, driving down the middle of the road, getting nearer and nearer to the Time Lord–whom still hadn’t stirred, not even an inch. With a determined look in his eye, The Doctor slowly raised the hand holding the sonic screwdriver, extending his arm, until it was straight out in front of his body…and pointing at the speeding caravan.
Giving an almost inaudible sigh, the Doctor waited until the last possible second. He could see the faces of the two plasmavores through the windscreen. Mrs. Williams’ face seem julibant, while Mr. Williams appeared to be frozen in terror. When there could be no more doubt that the female plasmavore wasn’t going to be deterred from her purpose, the Doctor’s finger pressed down on the sonic.
As the screwdriver’s blue tip lit up and the instrument let out a high pitched buzz, the caravan’s engine suddenly made a funny noise. The wheels locked and Mrs. Williams lost control. In seconds, the caravan drove off the cliff, and into an old quarry far below. Unseen by anyone, the Doctor closed his eyes, as the screams of the two plasmavoores faded into nothing. When it hit the floor, the propane and petrol in the caravan exploded, ending the lives of the alien couple, once and for all.
The Doctor slowly lowered his arm. He was so lost in throught, that he never heard the Tardis door open, and only gradully came to realize that Donna was standing there alongside him, not saying a word, just holding his hand. After a moment, she said gently, “I thought you told them no second chances.” The Doctor merely gave a slight shrug, so, squeezing his hand, she said, “I would have given them another chance. I’m glad you tried. Sometimes, Doctor, that’s all you can do.” He looked at Donna, then smiling his thanks, said simply,”Come on, then.”
Donna gave him a surprised look. “Where are we going?” Pocketing the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor walked back to the Tardis. “I hear there’s going to be a monster festival at Loch Ness, thought we’d check it out, though I don’t think they’ll catch a glimpse of the Skarasen, this time of year.” Donna looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was kidding, decided she didn’t care. “What a minute, hang on. ‘Skarasen?” You mean there’s a real, Loch Ness Monster?” He turned to her, surprised, “What? didn’t I tell you about that?”
Back Home Doctor Who Main Page Next