Doctor Who: The Crawling Terror (12th Doctor novel) (Dr Who)

by Mike Tucker

  The Doctor watched him make his way to the communications console. ‘Together, you and I might have stopped this,’ he murmured sadly. ‘Now I have no choice.’

  Angela watched as the preparations at the circle became more animated as the sky started to darken. Some of the villagers had forcibly wrenched the concrete bollard from its footing in the circle and replaced it with the stone from Robin Sanford’s garden, others had been set to task clearing the web from the underpass that led to the industrial estate.

  ‘I wonder what’s happened to the spider?’ she muttered to Private Hawkins.

  ‘With luck the Captain put paid to that,’ said Hawkins firmly.

  ‘That bang we heard earlier?’

  Hawkins nodded. ‘Anti-tank missile by the sound of it.’

  Charlie Bevan was more concerned with what the other villagers were up to. Groups of them were dragging arm-thick cables through the cleared underpass. Cables that obviously led back towards the industrial estate. ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘Linking the circle to the Bell,’ said Robin. ‘It’s like that night in 1944 all over again.’ The thought of it was obviously terrifying him.

  ‘But the others, the Captain and the other soldiers. They’ll be able to stop it, won’t they? I mean the weapons you have today…’

  Hawkins said nothing, just stared at his boots. ‘Look there’s something you should know…’

  ‘They’re not going to let this thing go the distance, are they, son?’ said Robin Sanford softly. ‘They’ve got other plans.’

  ‘Who?’ Now it was Charlie’s turn to look frightened. ‘Who has other plans?’

  ‘Our mission was to stop the Bell being activated… Or…’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or get everyone away before the air strike.’

  Robin gave a soft laugh. ‘Well isn’t that just perfect. I survive a bomb attack during the war and end up getting killed by one seventy years later.’

  ‘But we’ve got to warn everyone!’ Charlie Bevan stepped forward to try and reason with his captors, but Simon George just shoved him back roughly.

  ‘Simon, you have to listen to me. We’re all in terrible danger.’

  The postmaster’s expression remained unchanged.

  ‘They can’t hear you, Charlie,’ said Angela wearily. ‘Or don’t want to hear you.’

  ‘But everyone is going to be killed!’

  ‘If that maniac lets that monster loose again then everyone is dead anyway,’ Robin pointed out.

  Before anyone could say any more, a distant voice yelled, ‘Hawkins! Fire in the hole!’

  Angela pointed to the middle of the field, as several metal canisters suddenly arced over the hedge.

  Hawkins’ eyes went wide as he recognised the objects. ‘Everyone! Close your eyes, hands over your ears. Now!’

  Angela barely managed to do as she was told before the flash-bangs went off. Even with her ears blocked, the detonation was deafening, and the flash was bright enough to light up the insides of her eyelids. She opened her eyes to see villagers staggering around blindly, completely disorientated by the explosion. Two more canisters landed on the grass, but this time dense white smoke started to billow out, turning the crowd into a coughing, shambling mass of silhouetted shapes.

  She suddenly felt the bonds behind her back being untied and the voice of Corporal Palmer hissing in her ear. ‘Link hands, stay low, follow me.’

  Struggling not to cough from the acrid smoke, Angela did as she was told, following the corporal into the trees and out into the car park beyond,

  Hurrying them towards the pub, Palmer led them into the lounge bar, where they all collapsed, grateful to be free of both their bonds and the choking smoke.

  Moments later Captain Wilson joined them, breathless and sweating from his recent exertions.

  ‘Right, that’s given us a breathing space, but we don’t have long.’ He crossed to where Charlie Bevan was struggling to get his breath. ‘Constable. We’ve just come from the Doctor. He said that you are to tell us how you and he survived that night.’

  ‘What?’ Charlie looked at him in bemusement. ‘I’m more concerned with surviving today.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ snapped Captain Wilson hauling him to his feet. ‘I’ve been attacked by an acid-spitting beetle, nearly trodden on by a huge spider, I’ve got an imminent alien invasion, not to mention a commanding officer who is probably tearing his hair out by now – and that’s if he hasn’t already called in a missile strike that will leave this place as a big black stain on the landscape. I have only one anti-tank missile left, and very little time, so, if you have something that is going to be of use to me I want to hear about it right now!’

  ‘But I don’t know anything!’ protested the spluttering policeman.

  ‘He said that you were lucky to survive that night, what did he mean?’

  ‘We only just got away in time.’ Charlie was struggling to remember the details of that terrifying night. ‘There was the Bell, and the scorpion in the circle, and the bombing raid—’

  He stopped, suddenly aware of what it was that the Doctor wanted him to tell the Captain.

  ‘The bombing raid… We only got back to his TARDIS that night because one of the bombs didn’t go off! Captain, there’s an unexploded German bomb buried right underneath the stone circle!’

  Chapter

  Twenty

  Clara watched with concern as the Bunker became a hive of activity. Maagla had received a message of some kind, and whatever it was that he had been told, it had changed everything.

  General Legriss had summoned several Wyrresters to the control area, huge creatures that were larger than their fellows, and had far more armour. She glanced at the razor edges on their huge claws. This was obviously a soldier class of some kind. It was starting to look suspiciously like an invasion force.

  She looked up as Maagla entered the control room once more, his claws clacking nervously. ‘What is going on, Maagla?’

  ‘A remarkable turn of events.’

  Gripping one of her claws with his own, he led her back towards the stones once more. ‘It seems that Gebbron has managed to secure the means to open the bridgehead once more. Now we have a very short time in which to make ready for physical transfer.’

  ‘Physical transfer?’ Clara felt a sure of hope. ‘You mean that you’re going to return me to my own body?’

  ‘We are preparing the machinery now. Gebbron wishes transfer to take place the instant that the equinox is reached. In a short time –’ Maagla gave a leering smile – ‘you will be free of us.’

  As Chief Researcher Maagla scuttled away and started busying himself amongst the control consoles, Clara watched him suspiciously. Something about the manner of the little Wyrrester was making her feel very, very uncomfortable.

  A huge readout display – its script undecipherable and alien, but its meaning all too clear – started to count down on one wall of the control room. Clara could do nothing but stand in the centre of the transmat circle and watch. Whatever was going to happen to her, she didn’t think that she was going to have long to wait.

  Private Hawkins hoisted the NLAW onto his shoulder, squinting through the sight and lining up the crosshairs on the stone circle.

  Finding a position with a clear line of sight to the position where Charlie Bevan recalled that the unexploded bomb was lodged had proved tricky. The attic room of the pub gave him an elevated view of the circle, but it meant that he had to fire through the trees that bordered the car park. There was a gap, but it was going to be tight.

  He took a deep breath, finding a good position to rest his elbows, and accustoming himself to the weight of the missile launcher. It was bulky and squat, compared to his L115A3 rifle, and nearly double the weight. Plus he only had one chance at this. If he missed…

  ‘Nothing like a bit of pressure.’

  Clearing his head, he pressed his eye socket to the viewfinder, grateful for the night vision in the ra
pidly fading daylight and clearing smoke. To his relief, the crowds of villagers were starting to retreat from the circle, leaving a solitary figure in the centre of the stones.

  Standing right on top of the target.

  Clearfield’s eyes were fixed on the clock on the wall of the laboratory, his hand poised over the controls.

  The clock hit 16.50.

  ‘Phase one power, now.’ He threw a switch, and the Bell started to glow with purple light

  The Doctor operated his own control, but one eye was firmly fixed on the readout on his sonic screwdriver. If he didn’t get this timing absolutely right…

  Clearfield shot the Doctor a stern look. ‘If you’re going to help your companion, then you need to make those adjustments to the Xerum 525 controls before we reach full power.’

  The Doctor nodded. He was about to give up his only bargaining chip, the only thing that was keeping Clearfield from disposing of him. He was gambling on Clearfield being too busy with the operation of the Bell to take action immediately, but once the Wyrresters were through, his life expectancy was liable to be very short indeed.

  He began making the necessary adjustments, his hands moving in a blur over the controls as he made complex adjustments to counter for the modifications that he had made to the vial of Xerum 525.

  Clearfield watched him suspiciously for a moment, then turned his attention back to his own equipment. ‘Prepare to engage phase two power.’

  ‘Colonel? We’re getting positive readings again, sir.’

  Colonel Dickinson hurried over to the workstation where the technician was monitoring transmissions from the village.

  ‘The same as before?’

  ‘Yes, sir. But much stronger. Levels are building fast.’

  ‘Damn.’ The colonel glanced at his watch. ‘Has there been any word from Captain Wilson and his team?’

  A radio operator shook his head. ‘No, sir, the last transmission that we had was from Private Hawkins about half an hour ago.’

  ‘Thank you, Private.’ The Colonel straightened. He had gambled, and it hadn’t paid off. Now he had to act quickly. ‘Signal all squad leaders. Tell them to pull everyone back, evacuate to the safe zone. The rest of you, stand down, get to your vehicles.’

  As the men around him shut down their equipment and made their way out of the command vehicle, Colonel Dickinson sat back down at his desk and reached for the phone. ‘This is Colonel Paddy Dickinson. We have positive confirmation of the operation of a Bell. Tell the helicopter to commence its attack run.’

  The Doctor finished his adjustments and nodded grimly at Clearfield. ‘You can go to full power.’

  The scientist’s masked face gave no hint of expression as he pushed home the final lever.

  A harsh, blaring klaxon rang out around the Wyrrester bunker. At once there was a blaze of light from the circle of stones and fingers of purple energy started to arc and flicker around the walls.

  As the energy levels increased, Clara began to feel a strange tugging sensation at her skin, faint at first, but building and building.

  Then, suddenly there was a blaze of light, and the room around dissolved into nothingness.

  Captain Wilson watched in awe as the centre of the stone circle erupted into a ball of blazing light and cracking energy. The noise was incredible, a deep, tolling chime that reverberated through the ground, practically ratting the teeth from his skull. He could hear the sound of breaking glass as a dozen or more windows in the pub shattered.

  As the glow faded Wilson could see a huge dark shape hunkered down between the stones. Slowly it started to draw itself up to its full, terrifying height.

  From somewhere in the distance he could hear the low ‘whub-whub-whub’ of helicopter rotors echoing across the countryside.

  Wilson held his breath. They probably had no more than a minute before the Apache launched its payload. ‘Come on, Hawkins,’ he breathed. ‘Come on.’

  The instant that Clearfield threw the final lever the Doctor activated his sonic screwdriver, sending a series of pre-programmed instructions to the TARDIS console.

  The monoliths in the centre of the laboratory flared into life, their screens dancing with swirling alien patterns. The centre of the circle became a brilliant ball of energy, lightning arcing from the metal walkways as it coalesced into a familiar shape.

  The Doctor leapt from his control console, racing into the circle as Clara fully materialised, only just catching her as her legs gave out from under her.

  Hoisting her into his arms, he staggered clear of the circle, placing her gently on the floor.

  ‘Doctor?’ Her eyes fluttered open. ‘That is really not a nice way to travel.’

  He grinned at her in relief. ‘Nothing that a few aspirin and day on the beach at Bognor Regis won’t sort out.’

  ‘Sounds great.’ She smiled weakly. ‘When do we go?’

  ‘Just a few things to sort out here first. Saving the planet, mainly.’ He dived back over to the control console, hands dancing across the controls. ‘Now, if I can just reverse the polarity of the Xerum flow…’

  Strong hands suddenly gripped him by the shoulders, wrenching him back from the console.

  ‘What are you doing?’ screamed Clearfield. ‘If you change those settings whilst the portal is open…’

  The Doctor struggled to break free. ‘Don’t be an idiot, man! If you let the Wyrresters establish a bridgehead here then it’s not just this planet that’s in danger, it’s the whole of the Mutters Spiral!’

  Clearfield wasn’t listening. He stretched out scrabbling at the controls, desperate to undo the work that the Doctor had done. The Doctor hauled him away, crashing painfully into one of the monoliths as he did so. The two men grappled on the edge of the circle.

  ‘I will not have spent my entire life working for nothing!’ screamed Clearfield, his voice hoarse.

  The screech of the Bell was now deafening as it got ready to open the portal once more.

  The burst of light in the centre of the circle had caught Hawkins by surprise, momentarily blinding him. Cursing, he rubbed at his right eye, brushing away the tears and peering through the sight one more.

  The girl had gone, and the creature that had replaced her was truly a thing of nightmares. Hawkins steadied his breathing, keeping the crosshairs firmly sighted on the ground beneath the monster’s feet.

  ‘They’d better be right about this.’

  He pressed the trigger.

  Captain Wilson heard the anti-tank missile fire and hauled Angela and Kevin to the floor of the bar as the smoke trail streaked away through the trees.

  The explosion was colossal. Detonated by the missile, the 200-pound German bomb blew the circle to smithereens. Caught by the full force of the blast, the Wyrrester was torn to pieces, its carapace shattering, legs and claws ripped from its body as earth and rock were sent spiralling into the air.

  As the fireball rolled lazily into the evening sky, Wilson just hoped that Colonel Dickinson was watching.

  Even though it was on the other side of the railway, the explosion rocked the laboratory, rattling the doors and windows. The energy feedback was even more catastrophic, sparks erupted from the consoles as the light from the Bell started to flicker.

  Clearfield looked up in horror. ‘No!’ he cried. ‘No!’

  The Doctor seized his moment, and tore himself free of the scientist’s grip.

  Off balance, Clearfield stumbled backwards, stepping across the threshold of the circle at the very moment that the Doctor slammed the controls into reverse.

  There was a roar of energy as the teleport activated for the final time, and then everything was plunged into darkness as the machine shut down.

  As the huge fireball rose above the trees, Colonel Dickinson turned to a technician. ‘The energy readings! Quickly, man, are they still rising?’

  ‘No, sir. Falling rapidly. Practically at zero!’

  ‘Private, get hold of that helicopter,’ the colonel yelled a
t his radio operator. ‘Tell them to abort!’

  The private scrabbled at the controls. ‘Army Air 6579. This is command HQ. Abort! Abort! Abort!’

  The colonel held his breath as the insect-like shape of the Apache swooped low over the trees towards Ringstone. He could see the slim shapes of the two missiles slung on either side of the fuselage. Had the abort order come too late?

  At the last moment the helicopter turned abruptly, sweeping over the treetops and arcing away from the village, its missiles unfired.

  Colonel Dickinson watched it hovering in the evening sky for a moment, then closed his eyes and offered a heartfelt prayer of thanks.

  It was over.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  Captain Wilson opened the door to Ringstone village hall and followed Colonel Dickinson inside. All around them, the inhabitants of the village were being treated by a team of army medics.

  Wilson spotted Corporal Palmer amongst the crowds, talking with Kevin Alperton. The two men made their way through the bustle towards him. Wilson smiled to himself as he caught a snatch of their conversation. The pair had been bonding over their love of horror films.

  ‘OK, The Wolf Man. Original 1941 Universal version, or 2010 remake?’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Kevin Alperton gave Palmer an unbelieving look. ‘Universal every time!’

  ‘Agreed.’ Palmer grinned. ‘Well, what about the Clash of the Titans remake? Better than the 1970s film?’

  Kevin thought for a moment. ‘Well the original is a Ray Harryhausen movie…’ He shook his head. ‘But, it’s got that stupid clockwork owl in it. Plus, I think the scorpions are more realistic in the remake.’

  ‘Well, we’d know, wouldn’t we, kid?’

  ‘Corporal…’

  Palmer jumped to attention as he spotted the two officers. ‘Sir!’

  ‘At ease, Corporal.’ Colonel Dickinson glanced around the village hall. ‘How are these people doing?’

  ‘Pretty good. High levels of Scopolamine in the bloodstream is the main issue. It’ll take some time for the drug to clear their systems completely, but they’ll all make a full recovery. Other than that, there are a few cuts and bruises from the explosion, a couple of mild concussions and one broken wrist.’