TIME LORDS DON'T CRY

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Lying on the floor, unmmoving, the Doctor was covered with a heavy coating of debris. Abruptly, he sat up, coughing the dirt from his lungs. Brushing the dirt and stones off of him, the Doctor got up slowly, giving himself a quick self-examination. His hair was covered with dirt.

“Yup, still me.” he said, relieved.” No regeneration…and certinly not ginger hair.” he muttered, as more dirt trickled down from his scalp. “Talk about having a bad hair day.” the Doctor grumbled.

The stairs were gone. The Doctor looked up through the open trap door. In the darkness, could see the faint reflection of flames from the burning farmhouse on the roof of the barn. Was Marie safe, he wondered. Was she still there?

“Marie! Go towards the farmhouse. They won’t follow you there. Marie! Can you hear me?” He shouted up through the trap door. “If you’re there, if you can hear me, Go towards the flames–but not too close. Keep back as far as you can. Just stay near the light.”

Suddenly, a shadow loomed over the doorway. The doctor heaved a sigh of relief–only to have it cut short. The shadow was the zombie woman in the apron.

“Where’s Marie? I warn you, if any of you have harmed her….”

Not waiting for an answer, the Doctor quickly headed for the end of the tunnel, hoping to find a way out. The torch had been lost, and now the Doctor groped about in near pitch blackness, the rapidly diminishing light of the flames making tough work of it.

Bent double, the Doctor jogged along as swiftly as he could, feeling the walls on both sides. He cursed in old low Galefreyan, as he occasionally stumbled over projecting roots and large stones.

The Doctor started when something small and alive ran over his boot. It gave a high pitched squeal and scurried off.

“Rats! I hate rats!” He muttered. “Especially giant rats in sewer tunnels.”

Out of the blue, the Doctor’s hand slapped a horizontal wooden slat. Finding it was the bottom rung of a ladder, he quickly climbed up, hoping that a working door awaited him at the other end.

Just as he neared the top, a roar filled the tunnel and dirt began cascading down on him. He yanked open the trap door and was assailed by an overpowering sour ammonia-like odour.

Pulling himself up through the door, he wrinkled his nose and made a face. Just his luck, this opening would happen to be situated cheek to jowl with an uncleaned stall filled with muck and manure, inside the barn.

“Well, I don’t have to worry about anyone looking for a door there, at any rate.” The Doctor said in a nasally voice. He was holding his nose. “Now if the Exogen would limit themselves to assimilating this stuff, they’d be welcome anywhere in the universe. Mind you, the smell…so maybe not.”

Walking away, the Doctor looked towards what remained of the house. It was gone. There were just piles of burning lumber and twisted metal pipes. He saw that half the roof that had landed in the back yard, but there was no sign of Marie. He called her name, but was greeted with silence.

Anxiously, the Doctor approached the wreckage of the house, all the while keeping a wary eye out for Uncle Tobias and his friends. He was scanning the site, when the Doctor noticed a shadow detach itself from one of the nearby trees.

Backing away guardedly, he stood waiting.

“Doctor? Is that you?” Came a tentative call.

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief as Marie came running up to him. Joyously hugging her, he grinned from ear to ear.

“There ya’ go. You’re alright sweetheart?”

She nodded.

“It was the fire. Mrs. McHenry didn’t want to go near the fire.”

The Doctor looked at her quizzically.

“Mrs. McHenry?” Then a light dawned on him. “Ah yes, your uncle’s lady friend. Who was she then?”

Marie looked at him sadly.

“She lived in a big caravan down the road, with her cocker spaniel. His name was McDuff. She used to work in the school cafeteria. She could seem pretty mean sometimes, but only if you were doing something bad. Really, she was nice, I think. She used to invite me in for milk and cookies, whenever I brought her some eggs. We’d sit at her kitchen table and she’d tell me about some of the far-away places she’d visited when she was my age. Her dad was a famous painter.” Marie looked down. “I miss her. She was nice to me. Why’d they have to kill her?”

The Doctor sighed, and put his arm around Marie.

“That’s just what these creatures do. Kill without a thought or concern for whatever species they encounter. They don’t kill because they hate all other life, like the Daleks. The Exogen don’t kill for politics, or religion, or greed, or intollerance. They do kill to survive, and to perpetuate their species. But, Marie, the problem is, that they don’t stop there. The Exogen don’t seem to know when to stop. They’re like locusts. Once they start killing, they keep on going until only the plant life and a few lower species like insects and armadillos are left.”

“Will they still come after us?” Marie asked, shuddering with sudden fear.

“Well, hopefully the explosion and fire took care of at least some of them.” The Doctor said cheerfully.

A muffled, metallic clanking came from somewhere beneath the debris of the still-burning house.

“Whoops. Spoke too soon, I see.” He looked soberly at Marie. “I’ve got to get back to the Tardis–that’s my ship. And I need to do it rather quickly.” He scratched his cheek. “Only problem is, I can’t remember where it’s parked.”

Marie smiled.

“It is a big blue box that says “Police” on it?”

The Doctor beamed.

“Oh yes, that’s the one!” He spoke more urgently, then. “Any idea how we can get there in a hurry?”

Marie turned and headed towards a small shed next to the barn.

“Come with me, Doctor.”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he followed behind her. She pushed open the double doors to the shed. Reaching inside the door, she fished out a small railroad lantern. Pulling a book of matches from her pocket she lit it. The Doctor smiled. There in front of him was a large older pick up truck. The ’69 Chevy had once been red but now was more rust than paint. The tyres were nearly bald and the windscreen was cracked.

“This is Uncle Tobias’ truck. Do you know how to drive?” Marie queried.

“Oh yes.” The Doctor rubbed his hands together. “Now, maybe we can get somewhere.”

Getting behind the wheel, he noticed a political campaign bumper sticker, which was stuck to the inside back window. It read, Vote for Bush. The Doctor snorted.

“Well, that figures,” he turned on the headlamps and cranked over the engine. It wouldn’t start. “Let’s hope your uncle didn’t go on the cheap when it came to putting petrol in this thing.” The Doctor huffed.

All of a sudden, some movement seen out of the corner of his eye made the Doctor look up. The bulk of Uncle Tobias in his armored suit filled the doorway of the shed.

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