Doctor Who BBCN10 - The Nightmare of Black Island (2 page)

Inside the Doctor sat cross-legged on the floor, poking and prodding at the tangle of tubes and pipes that wound their way through the coral-like growths and protuberances of the central control console.

Above him the huge glass and crystal column of the time rotor rose and fell in steady progression, keeping time like the tick of a huge clock, or the beat of a heart.

The lights in the console room were dim and low, the huge curving walls in shadow, the indented roundels glowing softly with emerald light. Rose was curled up on the battered control room chair, the Doctor’s long brown coat draped over her like a blanket. She was fast asleep, her breathing slow and measured, keeping pace with the rotor.

The Doctor peered round the console at her, smiling. It was rare to see her so quiet and still; she was usually such a bundle of tireless energy, always keen to head off to the next great adventure, to find somewhere new to explore.

The steady background hum from the console suddenly changed in pitch for a moment and there was a faint moan from Rose as she stirred on the chair. The Doctor frowned and clambered to his feet, peering at a flashing light on the console.

‘Well, that’s not right. . . Not right at all.’

He pulled a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from his jacket pocket and 5

leaned forward, his nose almost brushing the controls. He tapped at a read-out.

‘What are you flashing for? You’re not meant to flash. If I’d wanted you to flash I’d have put you somewhere more obvious, more flashy.’

There was another bleep from the other side of the console. The Doctor hurried around to where a new set of lights had blinked into life, twisting controls as he went. A cluster of symbols flickered on to one of the many screens that littered the surface and there was a low electronic burbling from somewhere deep in the machinery below him.

Rose twisted in her sleep again, her brow furrowing. The Doctor’s gaze went from the console to Rose and back again, and he pulled off his glasses, chewing on one of the arms thoughtfully.

‘Now what are you two talking about? All girls together, is it?’

Pushing his glasses back into his pocket, the Doctor leaned forward and started tapping at the controls.

Rose knew she was dreaming. She knew because she could see herself, as if she was another person, from just over her right shoulder. It was odd, looking at the back of your own head, seeing everything from someone else’s perspective. A small part of her subconscious was aware of the fact that her hair was getting straggly and needed a cut, perhaps a bit of colour, but mostly she noticed that she was outdoors, in the rain and floating a couple of metres off the ground.

She looked around, taking in the vague, unreal surroundings of her dream. As dreams went, it wasn’t particularly exotic. She was on the coast, almost certainly Britain. The scrubby grass and tangle of gorse bushes were unmistakably British. And yes, there were sheep grazing in the distant fields. As far as she was aware, sheep were peculiar to Earth; in her travels with the Doctor she hadn’t yet come across any space sheep. . .

She giggled, aware that it was turning out to be a very odd and mundane dream, when she noticed the child looking at her: a small child in pyjamas, clutching a soft toy, staring straight at her and smiling. For some reason that she couldn’t explain, a shiver ran down 6

Rose’s spine.

The child started to laugh and the sky darkened, lightning cracking through the air.

Rose found herself moving now, swooping over the gorse, sailing out off the cliff and sweeping down over the water. Dark shapes loomed up from the darkness: cliffs, jagged rocks, a lighthouse, its paintwork faded and peeling, the glass in the lamp room cracked and broken.

Pale, sickly green light washed over her and she was aware of masked figures watching her, chattering in a strange incomprehen-sible language. The lighthouse sped past and a roar suddenly cut through the air, harsh and terrifying.

Rose’s dream rapidly degenerated into nightmare as a vile four-armed creature hauled itself from the sea below her. Steam curled around it and the sea boiled as it lumbered up on to dry land, rain hissing on its armoured skin. Its claws reached out for something lying on the ground and Rose realised with horror that it was a young man, fishing equipment scattered around him, his arms raised in a futile attempt to ward the creature off as he scrabbled backwards over the wet grass.

Rose desperately wanted to look away, already knowing what was going to come next, but, as is the way with nightmares, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the horror unfolding before her.

The creature let out another guttural bellow. Flames leapt from its throat and Rose felt a wave of hot, fetid air wash over her. A monstrous arm swung into the air and she gasped as she caught sight of wickedly barbed claws glinting in the rain. As the arm came down, the young fisherman slumped backwards, his blood staining the rocks.

The creature turned and fixed Rose with blazing eyes. It roared again, reaching out for her. Rose tried to scream, but no sound would come from her throat. Above the roars of the creature she thought she could hear the sound of a child laughing. Then the huge taloned hands closed around her. . .

And she woke with a start, almost tumbling from the chair.

The Doctor looked up from a screen, concern in his eyes.

7

‘Are you all right?’

Rose ran a hand through her hair, her eyes flicking around the shadows that pooled in the corners of the console room.

‘Yeah, a dream, that’s all. A nightmare.’ She shivered, pulling the Doctor’s coat around her shoulders.

‘Not surprising really, is it? Considering the stuff we end up seeing. . . ’

She rubbed sleep from her eyes and shuffled over to where the Doctor was prodding at the console. ‘Don’t you ever sleep?’

‘Nah. Tried it once, didn’t like it. I prefer it when it’s quiet.’

Rose gave a snort. ‘Yeah, right. Like it’s ever quiet with you.’ She nodded at the console. ‘What are you doing?’

‘It seems that you’re not the only one who was having nightmares.’

He cocked his head to one side and peered at her. ‘Can you remember what your dream was about?’

‘Things. Creatures. . . ’

‘Creatures?’

‘Yeah, I was at the coast. Not a beach with sand, but lots of rocks. . .

and a lighthouse. There was a storm. And a kid, a little boy who kept laughing. Then this thing came out of the sea, a big sea monster sort of thing, four arms, breathing fire. It killed a man, a fisherman, and it was starting to turn on me. . . ’

The Doctor’s frown deepened. ‘Well, isn’t that strange.’

Rose was puzzled. ‘Why? What’s up with that? It was just a dream, wasn’t it?’

The Doctor nodded at the screen in front of him. ‘Seems like you and the TARDIS both had the same dream. We picked up some very odd readings while you were asleep. I’ve been tracing them back to their source.’

Rose crossed to his side, peering over his shoulder. ‘Oh, my God!’

On the screen was a long stretch of rocky coast, harsh and windswept. Out in the waves was a jagged lump of black rock, the long, slender shape of a lighthouse stabbing towards the heavy clouds.

‘That’s the place!’ Rose stared in disbelief. ‘That’s where I was in my dream!’

8

The Doctor looked up at her with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

‘And if the place is real, then the creature might be real as well. Shall we go and take a look?’

Before Rose had a chance to answer the Doctor darted round the console, spinning wheels and pumping energetically at some of the TARDIS’s more jerry-rigged controls.

With a grind of ancient engines, the TARDIS started to turn, and Rose realised with a thrill of terror that quite possibly she was about to confront the creature from her nightmare.

9

The moon gleamed fitfully through the long fingers of cloud that scudded across its face, sending sparkling highlights flickering over the foaming waves. The storm that had whipped the ocean into such a frenzy was far away now, the rumble of thunder just a distant boom over the hills, the lightning a faint glow occasionally illuminating the sky.

A new sound joined the rhythmic hiss of waves on shingle, a rasping, grinding noise, rising and falling in pitch, building in volume until, with a loud thump, the TARDIS appeared from nowhere on the cliff top, incongruous among the windswept gorse.

With a rattling of the latch, the door swung inwards and the Doctor stepped out into the cold night air, coat billowing in the wind. Rose emerged tentatively after him, looking around nervously.

The Doctor spread his arms wide and took a long, deep breath.

‘Come on, Rose. Get a good lungful of that fresh sea air.’

Rose pulled her parka tight around her. ‘You’ll get a great lungful of fresh sea water if you’re not careful. It’s freezing out here!’

‘It’s a bit fresh, I’ll admit.’ He twirled, fixing her with a piercing gaze. ‘Is this the place?’

11

Rose nodded, stepping closer to his side and shivering. ‘Yeah. It is.

The same as I saw in my dream. It’s weird.’

‘Marvellous!’ The Doctor smiled happily, pulling the TARDIS key from his pocket and locking the police box door.

Rose turned slowly around. Everything was horribly familiar. The tall, jagged cliffs, the brooding sky. Along the coast she could see the lights from the village, tucked into the curve of the bay, a tiny harbour jutting out into the cold grey sea.

A noise made her jump, a long wail, drawn out and plaintive. On the next headland over she could see the lights of a lonely farmhouse, a trail of smoke whipped from its chimney by the driving wind.

She caught the Doctor by the arm. ‘Listen.’

The Doctor turned from the TARDIS, head cocked to one side. The sound came again, high-pitched and almost cat-like, cutting through the sound of the wind.

Rose felt goosebumps run down her spine. ‘It’s a baby. Poor thing sounds terrified.’

‘It’s not happy, certainly.’ The Doctor pulled a pair of opera glasses from his coat and peered at the lights blazing from the distant farm buildings. ‘And keeping the house awake by the look of things.’

‘Where are we exactly?’ Rose asked.

‘Wales, according to the instruments.’ The Doctor swung his gaze out towards the horizon. ‘West coast, just along from Tenby, I think.

Village called Ynys Du.’

‘Come again?’

‘Black Island. Not the kind of place you usually find ravening four-armed creatures, I must admit, but probably very good for sea bass.

Ah. . . ’

‘What is it?’

The Doctor nodded out to sea. ‘Your mysterious lighthouse?’

Rose followed his gaze. The racing clouds cleared from the moon for a moment and she could make out the tall, slender shape rising from the jagged mound of black rock in the bay. She shivered again, though this time not from the cold.

‘Yeah. That’s it.’

12

The Doctor adjusted a small dial on the opera glasses, peering intently at the lighthouse through the computer-enhanced lenses.

‘Doesn’t look as though it’s been used for years. Shame. Make a nice little home, that would. Tricky to get your milk delivered, but no problem with the neighbours.’

‘Great if you like fish.’

‘Exactly!’ He lowered the glasses and turned to her. ‘Where did you see the fisherman?’

Rose nodded down the cliff. A well-worn path snaked through the gorse, winding its way to an untidy jumble of rocks at the water’s edge.

‘Down there, on the rocks.’

The Doctor raised his opera glasses again, scanning the coast. ‘No sign of any monsters. . . Hello. . . ’

Rose’s heart jumped. ‘What is it? Have you seen it?’

‘I think there’s someone there.’ The Doctor frowned. ‘Thought I caught a glimpse of someone at the shoreline.’

‘The creature?’

‘Not unless it’s taken to wearing a long white coat.’ He tucked the glasses back into his pocket. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

The Doctor set off down the rocky path, his own coat billowing out behind him.

‘Hang about!’

Rose set off after him a little more cautiously. The rain and spray had made the path treacherous and gorse barbs tore at her clothes as she pushed her way down the narrow sheep track. By the time she reached the bottom, the hems of her jeans were streaked with mud, her trainers sodden.

The path ended at a narrow spit of land, scrubby grass that sloped down to the sea. Huge wet boulders, flecked with foam and seaweed lay jumbled up against the shore. The Doctor was squatted on top of one of them, seemingly oblivious to the spray that swirled around him each time a wave crashed in. He was prodding at the rock with his sonic screwdriver.

13

He glanced up at her as she picked her way over. ‘Nothing. No sign of monster, fisherman, anything. . . ’

‘What about your white-coated figure?’

‘No.’ The Doctor pursed his lips. ‘No sign of him, or her, either.’

‘Well, they can’t have got past us. There’s no other way down from the cliffs and they’d be mad to take a boat out in this. You must have been seeing things.’