The Mind of The Daleks

Chapter 10: Invitation

At last, the black shadows of the factories loomed closer against the night sky and smells of gasoline and exhaust overwhelmed the outdoorsy smell of the empty lot. Isabel made her way through her fellow escapees, who had thought it safest to walk close together, up to where the Doctor was silently leading the way, his borrowed flashlight picking out a clear course among the brush ahead.

"Well, at least we got away!" she said, just a little belligerently.

"I wouldn't have minded remaining a prisoner a little longer!" The Doctor sighed.

"Hey, that Dalek was about to kill you!"

The Doctor waved this aside as if staying alive didn't matter very much.

"Anyway," Isabel went on, annoyed, "besides saving your skin, I was thinking about others, too. Ben wasn't doing too good, and somebody else was being beaten."

"Yes, you had very good reasons, no doubt," the Doctor conceded absent-mindedly.

They had arrived at the corner of the building, smaller and grungier than it looked from a distance. To their right was a blank wall with nothing in it but a door that would probably be locked. Straight ahead through an alley between the warehouse and the vast, featureless walls of a factory they caught a glimpse of a parking-lot, bathed in the yellow light of a street lamp. The Doctor hesitated for a moment and then proceeded with care down the alley. At the other end, he cautiously looked around before leading the way out into the light.

The group of fugitives breathed a collective sigh of relief – at last, they had come back to civilization!

"Oh," Debbie exclaimed. "I think I know where we are! There should be a McDonalds or something right down the street."

Cheers went up and they rushed eagerly across the cracked pavement in the direction Debbie had indicated. Now that they had made it to relative safety, the Doctor returned the flashlight to its owner and hung back away from the group.

Down a relatively short stretch of road, they arrived at the back of a restaurant. It was dark and dirty with a stinking dumpster overflowing with more than the business' share of garbage, graffiti-covered walls, and cigarette butts and broken bottles ground into the pavement. But it was still a sight for sore eyes. Around the corner, they had a glimpse of cars passing down a road and the sound of traffic that assailed their ears was comfortingly loud. People - civilization! - at last! However dull and commonplace, there is strength in its numbers.

With a grateful concerted charge, the former prisoners made their way around the corner into the lighted parking-lot in the front and then into the restaurant itself, to startle the patrons with their unexpected dusty, beaten, and desperate presence.

The Doctor, however, remained outside, looking around awkwardly as if he expected to find something or someone. Curious, Isabel stopped on the point of following the rest into the comfortable lights of the establishment and turned back to watch the strange little man.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, interested but irritated.

"There are some things that I need to do," he replied, his mouth set in a grim line.

"Can't you wait for the police to get here? It won't take them long."

"No, I can't." He eyed a truck that nearly turned into the parking-lot but then drove on. "I'm going a different way."

Isabel took a few steps toward the Doctor, drawn by curiosity that was slowly but surely overcoming her desire to rejoin humanity. "Like what? You've been talking about your other business all evening, but what is it? How did you get mixed up in all this, anyway? Who are you?"