Walk The Earth: Doctor Who/Studio C [Book 2]

The Second Dream

The Second Dream

"You can make the choice you wish you could and think you can't." -Cyndi Shirk

"Next stop, London."

Matt could hardly believe his own hushed words. A pink vial had joined the blue and yellow, nestled in the padded case that held the gun itself. Mallory shut the case with a click, shoving it back into her backpack and swinging it back on to her shoulders.

"Can you believe it?" she murmured, eyes searching his.

"Not really." He capped the bottle of dye in his hand, putting that in his own pack to dispose of later.

"On to London, then," she said, stepping gingerly over the two-inch layer of trash that covered the floor of the tiny office in UNIT's Budapest base. Instead of a tower, like most of the other bases, this was a comparatively low, stretched out building, almost resembling an embassy from the outside. It had been abandoned quickly under the Master's rule, falling into decay within a few months.

Something about this place made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Mallory peered through the doorway, leading the way through the dim hallway. "We should have done this back at the safe house," she said under her breath.

So he wasn't the only one that had a bad feeling about this place. "You know why we didn't," he muttered back.

"Yeah."

In his wildest dreams, he had never imagined this would be how he spent December 25th, 2017.

A few hours later, he would only be able to reflect on how ironic that thought had been.

~~~

The first tip off that they were not alone was the distant creak of a floorboard. They both froze, pressing against the wall and slipping into the shadows.

"We really should have done this at the safehouse," Mallory said again.

"Bit late now."

They crept along the wall, hushed voices coming to them. Barton had seemingly continued to flip-flop between stealth and brute force in an attempt to bring them in. Neither tactic had worked very well for him.

Pausing in a dark corner, they watched half a dozen armed guards march past without a second glance. Not for the first time, she blew out a breath of relief that their perception filters worked once more.

He nudged her shoulder and gestured, not daring to speak, but nonetheless after all this time she understood the impression of 'get the hell out of here.' She gave a curt nod in response.

Every exit they found as they wound their way through the halls, however, was blocked by at least two heavily armed, no-nonsense UCF agents. Mallory bit back the bile rising in her throat. Even their perception filters wouldn't allow them to waltz out the door in plain sight of the guards. With every way out cut off, they would be stuck there. Sooner or later, the guards would begin to close in on them like a noose.

Matt nudged her again and she glanced over sharply, dimly making out the outline of his hand, pointing upward.

"Roof?" she muttered. He nodded. She hadn't the slightest idea of what they'd do when they got there, but if there was one thing  they'd gotten good at after eight months with the Doctor and eleven on the run, it was improvising.

They turned back down the hallways they had come down, trying to move ever-upward and flinching at every sound the garbage underfoot made. Every crinkle of plastic and slide of paper rang out like a jet engine.