'No,' the Doctor admitted. Then he jabbed his finger towards Nepath. 'But I'll tell you again, whatever you've been promised, she can never come back. Not ever. It may look like your sister, it may even sound like your sister. But it will never be her. Whoever or whatever is returned to you, Patience Nepath will still be dead.' He turned back to the cabinet. 'Whoever is to blame, this is how she will remain.'
He reached out and tapped his forefinger on the glass. 'For ever.'
Stobbold thought it was an effect of the glass moving slightly as the Doctor tapped on it. The grotesque, contorted shape within the cabinet seemed to move slightly. But then the Doctor froze, staring at the charred figure within. He too had seen something.
And Nepath was suddenly laughing. He threw his head back and bellowed with laughter that echoed round the room.
The blackened husk raised a skeletal arm, dark bone fingers stretching out in a bizarre parody of the Doctor's gesture, reaching for the glass. Then the whole figure seemed to lurch forwards, falling towards the front of the cabinet.
The glass exploded outwards, showering ice*like shards and splinters across the Doctor and Nepath. Stobbold felt blood on his cheek where a sharp fragment caught him. Clumsily, with jerky movements, the hideous stick*like figure lurched out of the broken cabinet towards them.
Chapter Seventeen.
Moving Mountains The figure stood for a moment in the middle of the sea of broken glass. It tottered on its spindly, brittle legs.
Seeing what was about to happen, Nepath reached out. But he was too late. The fragile legs shattered under the weight of the body and the figure crashed to the ground. Bone fractured and exploded as it hit the floor, a mass of broken black amongst the shining splinters of glass. The upper torso and the remains of the head remained intact, as if emerging through a hole in the floor. With a creaking of bone rubbing on bone, the head slowly turned towards the shape of Betty Stobbold.
Betty was already shimmering, blurring, changing. Stobbold gave an involuntary gasp as he watched. He knew it was not really her, but even so it was a shock to see his daughter's form again disappearing from him. In a moment she was a featureless blank of a figure. Like an unfinished sculpture the form and shape but none of the detail. He swallowed drily.
The faceless woman stepped into the mess of shattered bone and glass. At once she seemed to become liquid. Her whole pale form clouded over with a dark crust, and the molten rock inside flowed out in a puddle over the floor.
The Doctor leaped aside as the hot magma rolled towards his feet. But already it was flowing back inwards, drawn up into the charred and broken remains of Patience Nepath.
Stobbold watched in horror as the fragile blackened corpse began to fill out. The liquid flowed into it, making the whole body glow with fire and life. The thin arms fleshed out; the sunken parchment features of the face puffed outwards. Slowly, painfully, the figure was getting to its feet, standing on legs that had been broken fragments of bone and now seemed to be restored to flesh and blood.
She was a tall girl, as tall as Stobbold. Blond hair erupted from her pale head, framing her youthful face. She looked about eighteen as she smiled at them, her eyes tight shut. Her chest heaved suddenly, a spasm of movement as she drew her first breath.
Then she opened her eyes, and Stobbold could see the firelight that danced within them. At that moment he knew really knew that whatever the consequences, he had made the right decision.
The guns were set up across the main street. There was room for three of them. The other three were positioned at the sides of the road further back to cover a retreat if it became necessary.
A gust of wind blew dust and ash into Wilson's face as he waited. The gun crews were crouched in position. The weapons were loaded and ready to fire. The runners from the edge of the town kept him informed of the progress of the creatures of fire as they approached. It would not be long now.
So far there had not been too many deaths reported. But unless they could slow the advance of the creatures, the more densely populated area of Middletown would become a graveyard. A crematorium. The evacuation was in full progress, but it was slow work to persuade people to leave their homes at the point of a bayonet if necessary. There was a dearth of suitable transport, and more had not yet arrived from Ambleton, though it was promised, along with reinforcements. The soldier Wilson had sent had returned with the personal assurances of Sir William Grant more troops would come.
But for the moment, Wilson and his men were on their own.
Just as he reassured himself that whatever happened now, things could scarcely get worse, there was an unearthly percussive crack in the distance. Beneath Wilson's feet, the ground heaved, throwing grey dust back into the air. Even before it had settled, it was joined by more. A lump of glowing rock shot past Wilson's head, exploding into flames as it hit the building behind him.
The sky glowed an angry red, the lines of smoke tracing across through the mist of dust and ash as more rocks were hurled upwards from the fissure. In seconds the air was alive with the firestorm.
'At last,' Nepath breathed. 'At last we are together again.'
His sister reached out her hand and brushed his cheek. 'For ever,' she said. Her voice was soft, innocent.
The Doctor shook his head, shuffled his feet and sighed loudly. 'I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll give my advice careful and close consideration?'
Nepath's face was a mask of emotion as he drew her to him, held her close, buried his face in her hair.
'That's what I thought,' the Doctor said. 'Still.' he said to Stobbold, 'actions speak louder than words.'
'Meaning?' Stobbold asked.
'Meaning it's time we were leaving.' He strode over to the door and flung it open.
Nepath's laughter was barely audible above the sound of the crackling flames that immediately leapt up in the doorway. A formless burning mass oozed into the room and the Doctor jumped back.
'I'd forgotten about that,' he said. 'Any suggestions?' he asked Stobbold.
'Yes, Doctor,' Nepath said. 'Die.'
The Doctor seemed to consider this. He nodded thoughtfully, biting his bottom lip. He raised his hand towards Nepath in a gesture that suggested he would answer him in a moment, then took Stobbold by the arm and led him across the room away from the rolling fire.
'There do seem to be few alternatives available to us,' Stobbold admitted. He looked from the fire to Nepath and his sister standing in front of the shattered remains of the cabinet, then turned to see the Doctor's reaction.
The Doctor was looking across the room, away from the fire. Towards the heavy curtains that were closed over the window. 'Jump,' he said in a loud, clear voice.
Even so, Stobbold was not sure he had heard correctly. 'I beg your pardon?'
But the Doctor was gone. He was running across the room at full tilt. Seeming to sense his intentions, the fire leaped after him, a ball of orange flame trailing black smoke in its wake. Stobbold hesitated only a split second, then he was racing after the Doctor, desperate to keep ahead of the flames.
The Doctor leaped first, taking off several feet in front of the curtain, throwing his arms up in front of his face, turning slightly sideways, legs still working. He crashed into the heavy curtain, forcing it into the window behind, crashing through.
Stobbold was already in the air, flinging himself after the Doctor when it occurred to him that he was jumping through an upper storey window. And he had no idea what was beneath it. The billowing curtain rushed towards him, and he barely caught sight of the Doctor clinging to it as he swung back. Stobbold grabbed at the other curtain as the one bearing the Doctor began to tear, to rip, to fall.
The Doctor disappeared from sight with a wave of the arm that might have been intentional. His weight was tearing the curtain slowly along a seam, unravelling it, lowering him gently towards the ground.
In the same moment that Stobbold marvelled at the audacity and inventiveness of the Doctor's escape, he felt his own curtain move. He glanced up, and saw that it was not tearing slowly like the Doctor's. The material was ripping from the curtain rings, sending them rattling on the pole as it tore down.
He gave a cry of surprise and fright as he was pitched headlong towards the ground, still holding the curtain. Then the fire exploded out of the broken window frame above him, catching the end of the material as it was whipped free. The curtain burst into flames.
He let go. It fell away from him, blazing, and they both plunged towards the ground.
The Doctor was waiting for him ten feet below, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch him, or at least break his fall. They met in a sudden whirling maelstrom of arms and legs. The Doctor dropped him, of course, but on to the bundled, burning curtain which was itself cushioned on a pile of ash.
'I'm relieved that you aren't a large person,' the Doctor remarked as they both staggered to their feet.
Stobbold was bruised, singed and frightened, but he was alive and all his bones seemed to have survived the impact. He looked back at the window above them. The fire seemed to have disappeared, but as he watched, Nepath's face appeared, looking down at them.
'Time to go?' Stobbold suggested.
'Time to go,' the Doctor agreed.
They were at the side of the Grange, close to the back. Stobbold led the way round towards the drive. They walked briskly. The sky was alive with trails of fire; the air was thick like drifting smoke.
'Another eruption,' the Doctor mused. 'Not long now, I fear.' He looked round. 'What's that noise?'
Stobbold strained to hear. He could just make out a rushing sound, like the wind only stronger, louder, more regular. He turned to try to work out where it was coming from.
'It's the river,' he realised. 'There's a weir just upstream from here.'
'River?'
'Well,' Stobbold admitted, 'more of a brook. Over there.' He pointed into the gloom. 'About twenty yards. Doctor,' he went on as they continued on their way, 'you said there wasn't long. Until what, do you think?'
'Until a molten mass of red hot magma rolls across the moors and through Middletown devouring everything in its way.'
'Unless we can stop it somehow,' Stobbold said gloomily.
The Doctor stopped, putting out his hand to stay Stobbold. 'I'm afraid we have other things to deal with,' he said.
Ahead of them, from out of the smoky air, Lord Urton emerged, his eyes blazing like burning coals.
They had encouraged her, then cajoled her. They had threatened her with a rifle, but still she refused to go with them. Eventually a large corporal had lifted Rosie Devlin bodily and carried her kicking and shouting to the cart. He dumped her into it, and pushed her back when she tried to climb out.
The children sat at her feet, sullen, weary, too tired now to cry.
'He'll be here soon,' she reassured them through her tears. 'He just had some work at the mine to finish.'
Little Annie climbed on to her mother's lap and put her thin arms round her neck, clinging on and crying into her chest. Lawrence and James watched. Lawrence choked back a sob.
'You should have let us wait for him,' James told the soldier as the cart pulled away unsteadily.
'He'll come, you'll see,' Rosie shouted into the smog as they bumped along. Her words dissolved into tears. 'You'll see. He'll show you, Harry Devlin will. Show you all.'
The corporal watched the cart disappear into the ash*filled sky. He wiped the grime from his face on his sleeve, smearing it across with the moisture from his smarting eyes. He knew as well as she did that Harry Devlin was not coming home.
The air seemed to crackle and spark around him as Lord Urton stepped towards them. The Doctor and Stobbold backed slowly away, matching him step for step.
'I'll try to distract him, Doctor,' Stobbold said quietly. 'You should be able to get past him while he's... while he's busy with me.'
Urton circled round them, forcing them to change direction as they continued to back away.
'Very noble of you,' the Doctor said, keeping his eyes on Urton. 'But I imagine he'd go for me before you. Without undue modesty, I think they believe me to be more of a threat than your good self.' He grinned suddenly. 'And anyway, I don't intend to lose you.'
'Thank you,' Stobbold responded automatically. He could hear the sound of the weir again, and realised they were close to the brook.
Too close. He took another step backwards and almost slipped down the bank. He reached out to stop the Doctor. 'Look out.'
'Ah,' the Doctor exclaimed as he glanced back at the steep bank and the murky water below. He turned back as Lord Urton once more stepped out of the thickening air. His hands were stretched out in front of him like a sleepwalker. The firelight sparkled behind his eyes.
'Oh,' the Doctor said. 'How deep is it?'
'I don't know,' Stobbold replied. He risked a look backwards. 'Very' he decided. 'Ten feet or more, what with the melting snow. And it's too wide to jump. I ' he paused, embarrassed. 'I can't actually swim, you know, Doctor.'
'I didn't,' the Doctor said. 'But I hope it won't be necessary. It's a thought, though,' he added with a frown. 'I wonder...'
'They're right to think you more dangerous than I,' Stobbold said slowly. 'Which is why you have to get away, Doctor.' It was not actually a difficult decision to come to, he thought as he stooped down and scooped up a handful of the dry ash. Now that Betty was gone, there was little to make him reconsider. He had lived his life preaching a code that put others before himself. Now. it was time to live up to that code.
Stobbold held the ash tight in his fist, afraid it would slip out between his fingers. With his other hand he pushed the Doctor roughly away. At the same moment he stepped up to face Urton, standing inches from his outstretched hands.
He could feel the heat from the twitching fingers, could see deep into the fire within his old friend's eyes. He leaned away as the hands clutched for him, and thrust the ash into Urton's face.
He had hoped that it might blind Urton, or at least distract him long enough for Stobbold to run past. He had seen the Doctor head off along the bank of the river, continuing in the direction that Stobbold had pushed him. But the ash had no effect. It seemed to explode into a myriad firefly sparks as it touched Urton. Stobbold stepped back, knowing he had nowhere to go. Urton reached for him, the heat from his body singeing the air as he moved.
'Get down!' The shout reached Stobbold at the same moment as he saw the Doctor emerge from the smoke behind Urton. He was in mid*air, his feet in front of him.
The Doctor's jump*kick connected as Stobbold dived aside. Stobbold rolled on to his back in time to see the Doctor's feet slam into Urton's back, sending Urton spinning forwards, arms flailing. Urton staggered to the top of the bank, teetered on the edge where the ground dropped away, his arms windmilling, sending flames shooting into the air.
Just as he regained his balance, just as he began to stumble forwards again, just as he turned to look down at Stobbold lying defenceless before him on the ground, the Doctor stepped forwards. He leaned back, lifted his leg almost to the height of his waist and kicked out violently.
The Doctor's foot caught Urton full in the chest, sending him spinning over the edge. Steam hissed from the sole of the Doctor's shoe.
Stobbold pulled himself to his feet and joined the Doctor at the edge of the bank. He was in time to see Urton splash into the river. A great cloud of steam hissed up, obscuring their view. A high*pitched scream, shrill and loud reached them. The steam thinned, and Stobbold could see Urton clawing at the bank, his hands scrabbling to gain a purchase. But the rest of his body seemed to be dragging him back down, still and lifeless. His head remained clear of the water, his eyes flickering as he stared up at them, his mouth twisted into a scream of anger and fear.
Then he lost his grip completely, and sank slowly into the water. Steam erupted from his hands as they flopped into the river. His head remained visible a moment longer before it too was submerged.
'Let's get away from here,' Stobbold said. His throat was dry and he felt sick to his stomach.
'You're right.' The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. 'There's something... something in the research, the books and papers that Professor Dobbs was looking at.'
The water below them was still hissing and steaming. Occasionally the view cleared enough for them to see the water bubbling.
'What's that, Doctor?' For the first time in a long while, Stobbold felt there was a glimmer of hope.
'I'm not sure,' the Doctor replied. 'Confirmation, I hope.' He was still looking down at the thinning steam which clung to the river below. 'Confirmation of the nature of the world. The nature of the beast.'
When the steam had cleared, Stobbold saw that Urton was lying on the river bed. Through the deep, bubbling, murky water he could see that the man was stiff, his body angled awkwardly like an ungainly statue. One of Urton's legs was bent almost at right angles beneath him. His eyes were wide open, staring lifelessly up at them cold and grey and empty. As they stood on the bank, staring down, the body shifted with the current flowing quickly from the nearby weir. The angled leg snapped away, drifted downstream a little way before scraping to a halt. Like brittle stone.
The first of the burning figures lumbered out of the gloom and started down the street towards them. Behind it, others broke through the foggy air until the street was ablaze with walking fire.
Wilson was tempted to order his men to wait until they saw the red of their eyes. But he was not sure they would appreciate the bleak humour. Even if they could hear him above the percussive impacts of the molten rock that fell like shooting stars around them and the crackling laughter of the approaching fire. Instead he raised his bayonet, hoping the faded light of the sun would catch on the blade and make it easier to see his gesture.