NOTE TO ANY READERS: As always, you can go back and find previous chapters by simply going to the home page, and in the search box at the top right hand side of the page, type either "Doctor Who" or "BBC" and click the "search in:" box-- "Posts"...and you'll come to all my blog entries pertaining to Who--including all previous chapters of Killing Frost, and the other Who short stories and captions, as well.
Doctor Who: The killing Frost
CHAPTER 7: Doctor Goose
The Doctor came around slowly. A binary vascular system did have its advantages--among them, quick recovery from the effects of most stun weapons. He sat up suddenly. He had a funny taste in his mouth and his head felt woozy and his limbs stiff. “Just like that last party I went to on Rigel Seven. One too many Venusian Gobsmackers.”
Looking around, the Doctor's eyes widened. Sharing the truck with him were about a dozen ordinary looking people, most in their late teens to late thirties. All were perfectly motionless, sitting on rows of wooden benches in the back of a canvas covered lorry--similar to an old troop carrier. They seemed to be mesmerized--but looking in the eyes of a young girl across from him, he could see. She was aware of what was happening to her, and she was scared. The Doctor knelt down in front of her, deep concern creasing his features. Looking into her eyes, he said “I know you can hear me, so I want you to listen. Whatever’s been done to all of you, I can stop. I can help. Just hang on, okay?" He saw a tinge of relief reflected his her eyes. Sighing, he turned away. He hoped he could help. But first, he had to know what was going on.
The Doctor heard the lorry slowing down, and got an idea. Reaching into his pocket, he got out his sonic screwdriver. Balancing to keep from falling when one of the truck’s tyres ran into some kind of obstruction, he went to the tailgate. Emitting a buzz, the screwdriver’s tip glowed blue, and the lock securing the back gate came free. The truck slowed to a crawl. The Doctor quickly adjusted a setting and aimed the instrument at the zombie-like passengers.
As one, they turned their heads towards him. “Listen to me,” he said in an authoritarian voice, “when this truck stops you will all file out of the back. You will follow me--and do it quickly! I’m going to take you somewhere safe.” At least, he hoped so. With a jolt, the truck came to a stop. The Doctor chose that moment to drop the gate and jump down. The others followed. Spying a nearby warehouse, the Doctor motioned for the people to follow him. Like a gaggle of geese they trailed after his running figure.
By some miracle, the truck had started on again, without the driver noticing his passengers were missing. Perhaps the driver was a zombie-human as well, or the warrior in charge was just being unusually careless. Ducking into the warehouse, the Doctor glanced around quickly. He spied what seemed to be a small office. He lead his little group inside and closed the door.
Having them line up in front of him, the Doctor paused. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. This was very tricky. He never would feel comfortable, going inside another being’s mind--and to go into eleven minds at once--not a good feeling at all. He looked at them. “Relax, this won’t hurt any, and I’ll have you all back to normal again in no time. Trust me.” Taking a deep breath, he went into a trance. Going down the line, the Doctor walked up to each person and placed delicate fingertips on each one’s temples. Every person he touched, gave a gasp and sank to the floor, sound asleep. The Doctor had put his little flock into a deep trance-like sleep.
He couldn’t reverse the effects of the stimulator without the proper equipment--that was in his Tardis, but he could at least give these few people some rest from their terror. “Sleep, my friends.” He murmured. “Hopefully when you awake, I’ll have this all sorted.”
Closing the door quietly behind him, he made his way out of the warehouse and back onto the street. The stillness of the morning was almost eerie, even for him. He had to find out what Finch and his little Martian friends were up to--but first, he had to find Martha. Striding purposefully into a nearby alleyway, the Doctor headed back towards the city park. pulling a small meter-like device from his pocket, he took a reading, his breath coming out as a thick white fog.
“It’s getting colder. What is Finch up to?” The Doctor muttered, “Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t have anything to do with global warming.” The readings showed that Marta wasn’t all that far away. He rounded the corner of a building and stopped short. Two Ice Warriors stood there, waiting, weapons trained on him point blank. "Well," he sighed, "here we go again."
