Part 23 (2/2)

The sound had been like the scuff of movement that someone who was trying to be stealthy might make. Turlough tilted his head a little as if that might enable him to hear better - and almost leaped out of his skin when someone rapped loudly on his door.

He cringed, praying that whoever was out there was banging on doors at random and would move on if he failed to respond. There was silence for a moment, then a voice he recognised said, 'We know you're in there, son.'

It was the voice of the big, burly soldier, the Doctor's friend: Sergeant Benton. Still Turlough said nothing, but looked around panic-stricken, wondering where he could hide, how he could possibly escape.

A second voice replaced the first, this one more clipped, authoritative; the voice of the Brigadier.

'Be reasonable, lad,' he said, sounding nothing but reasonable himself. 'It's not you we want, it's the Doctor. We just want you to take us to his TARDIS.'

They must have missed it at the fun-fair, Turlough realised.

If his plight hadn't been so desperate he would have found that funny. He wondered fleetingly whether he might be able to speak to the Brigadier, reason with him. The man might be infected, but he didn't sound too far gone - though it might well have been the Xaranti themselves who were allowing allowing the Brigadier to sound reasonable. the Brigadier to sound reasonable.

Yes, perhaps that was it. Perhaps the present approach was simply a ploy to lull him into a false sense of security. Or even to get him to give himself away, because, after all, they couldn't know for certain he was in here. They could only be guessing that he was. They had probably been looking for him all over the place. If he stayed quiet they would probably go away.

Then the Brigadier said, 'All right, young man, be it on your own head.'

There was a loud bang, and before Turlough realised what was happening a chunk of wall exploded, not two feet from his left ear. He stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded, then glanced back through the barricade of furniture piled atop his bed and spotted a ragged hole in the door, beside the lock.

They were shooting their way in - and they weren't too worried who was on the other side. Discarding the coat hanger, Turlough scrambled to his feet and ran to the window. He looked out and to his horror saw two fully-grown Xaranti patrolling the streets below.

He ducked instinctively as a second shot blasted through the door and reduced part of the barricade to flying matchwood. Frantically he loosened the catch on the window, flung it open and stuck his head out. There was no way down, but if he could climb up on to the roof he might be able to make his way across it to the building next door.

As a third gun-blast turned more of his barricade to splinters, Turlough grasped the sides of the window frame and stepped up on to the sill.

Walking through the vault-like doors, Mike and Tegan found themselves in a small vestibule furnished with a semi-circular desk like the one in Reception. On brackets on either side of the doors were a pair of small black-and-white TV screens depicting the now-empty corridor outside.

Waiting for them just inside was a large black man dressed in the blue-grey uniform of a hospital orderly. His face was s.h.i.+ny with sweat and his eyes were wide and wary. As soon as they were inside, he heaved the doors shut again and locked them with bolts and a metal locking-bar as thick as a man's wrist.

'Thanks for this,' Mike said, holstering his gun. 'It's pretty hairy out there.'

'Don't I know it?' said the man and squinted at them suspiciously. 'How did you manage to get through all them...

all them things?' things?'

'There are none out there now,' said Mike. 'I think they must have all headed down to the sea. We've got a truck, and I've got a gun. We had a few bad moments, but we managed to make it through OK.'

'What's wrong with your friend?' the black man asked, looking at the Doctor slumped in the wheelchair.

'That was one of our bad moments,' said Mike. 'We were attacked. He was wounded. I'm Mike Yates by the way, this is Tegan Jovanka, and the chap having a snooze there is the Doctor.'

He thrust out a hand, which the man cautiously shook.

'Doctors are something we're not short of here,' the man said. 'I'm Max Butler.'

'So what happened here, Max?' asked Mike. 'You were attacked, I take it?'

'From all sides. I've never seen anything like it. Those freaks had taken out two floors before we even knew what was happening. A bunch of us managed to round up the patients from the fourth floor and bring them here.' He shook his head, sending droplets of sweat flying in all directions.

'We're safe enough. Not even a tank could get through those doors. But it's a bad situation. A lot of the patients need special care - medication and stuff. We've got mothers with new-born babies here. The babies that were in the incubation unit we had to leave. One of the nurses stayed with 'em. The doors there aren't as strong as they are here, but at least they can be locked. I just hope to G.o.d those freaks didn't break in there and find 'em all.'

'We saw no evidence of it,' said Mike. 'And as I said, it's quiet out there now. You'd be safe going down to check on things and to get what you need. I'll go with you if you like.'

Max nodded. 'Thanks. But let's sort your friend out first.'

He flipped a thumb at the doors. 'Any idea where those things out there came from?'

Mike glanced meaningfully at Tegan, hoping she would still have enough of her wits about her to realise that they would have to be careful what they said here. 'They're just people,'

he said casually. 'They're carrying an infection which alters them physically and mentally.'

Max looked dubious. 'It's not like any infection I've ever seen before.'

'It's a new strain,' Mike said vaguely. 'We've got experts working on a cure for it right now.'

Max looked at him for a moment longer, then shrugged. 'If you say so. Come on, let's see to your friend.'

He led them out of the vestibule and into a corridor whose widely-s.p.a.ced doors were linked by viewing windows. The windows looked into medical research laboratories, most of which contained equipment and apparatus whose purpose Mike could only guess at.

'How many people have you got up here?' Mike asked.

Max raised his eyebrows as he thought about it. 'I'd say around two hundred.'

Mike whistled as Max turned right at the end of the corridor and pointed ahead. 'There's a kitchen and dormitory along here. A real home from home. It's where the doctors sleep when they haven't got time to go home, when they've got experiments and stuff they need to keep an eye on. That's where everybody is.'

A murmur of conversation drifted to meet them as they drew closer. They pa.s.sed several more labs, these ones full of people. Most of them were patients in dressing-gowns, who were standing or sitting around - talking, reading books and newspapers, playing cards, drinking tea. There was a kind of Blitz spirit in evidence, a sense of pulling together, of cheerfulness in adversity. If Mike had been wearing his uniform rather than his civvies, he had little doubt that many of the older men would have been saluting him as he pa.s.sed by.

Max led them into the dormitory area, containing around a dozen beds, all of which were occupied by the more serious cases. Most of these patients were asleep, though several were groaning in pain. Some patients were lying on the floor between the beds, draped with spare blankets, heads propped by 'pillows' of bundled-up dressing-gowns and other articles of clothing. Others were sitting with their backs to the walls and their knees drawn up, looking dazed or sh.e.l.l-shocked.

Doctors, nurses and some of the more able patients were moving between the beds, offering care and comfort where they could. Mike spotted Charlotte sitting beside a cadaverous old man who was lying on the floor like a bundle of sticks wrapped in blue and white pyjamas. With one hand she was supporting his head as he raised it, and with the other she was holding a transparent plastic cup, from which he was taking small sips of water.

Mike wanted to call to her, but thought it inappropriate.

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