Chapter Text
Sarah crouched beneath the broad fronds that had swallowed what had once been the county council offices and rested one hand against the damp concrete.
She remembered interviewing a councillor here.
Not that many years ago.
Now the entrance was little more than a dark opening beneath tangled roots thicker than her waist.
The Silurians had not merely defeated humanity.
They had reclaimed the Earth.
The air was warmer than an English spring had any right to be, heavy with moisture and the rich scent of growing things. Great ferns spread across what had once been the car park. Thick vines draped broken walls. A tree she could not name had burst through the upper floors, splitting brickwork and reinforced concrete as though neither had ever existed.
Birdsong had vanished with the old world.
Instead came distant cries that still made the hairs on the back of Sarah's neck stand up.
Somewhere, something large answered.
She adjusted the spear in her hand.
It still felt strange.
She had always preferred cameras.
Across her back hung an atlatl Lavinia insisted she practise with every week.
Apparently surviving the end of civilisation meant continually discovering weapons she had never expected to use.
The hunting knife on her belt felt far more familiar.
Behind her, seven women waited quietly. Jenny shifted her grip on the heavy spear she carried with the ease of someone who had spent half her life lifting sides of beef. Sheila, once a police constable, was already studying the windows and rooflines. Ruth had driven articulated lorries before the war. Angela had loaded cargo at Tilbury.
Strong women.
Practical women.
Women who knew how to keep calm when things went wrong.
Sarah looked from one face to the next. "We're looking for people first."
Several heads nodded.
"If we find supplies, brilliant." She glanced towards the ruined doorway. "If we hear children..."
Nobody needed telling what came next.
The building had been one of the last places refugees were seen before they scattered. Some had reached Morton Harwood.
Others nobody knew.
Sarah tightened her grip on the spear. "We stay in pairs."
A murmur of agreement.
"If you find something alive..." She held up the dark blade lashed securely to the ash shaft. "...don't stab it unless you're absolutely certain you'd rather it be dead."
Jenny smiled.
Sarah didn't. "I'm serious." She looked deliberately at every spear. "Lavinia's poison works."
Silence answered her.
"It also doesn't care who's holding the knife." She tapped the blade lightly with one finger. "So if you cut yourself..."
She left the sentence unfinished. Nobody wanted to finish it for her.
"And if Margaret trips over another root..."
Margaret folded her arms. "I only fell once."
"You nearly poisoned yourself once."
"I didn't."
"You came within an inch."
A few quiet laughs broke the tension.
Sarah smiled. "Let's not see if Lavinia's antidote actually works."
"No arguments there," Sheila muttered.
Sarah looked back at the building.
The entrance hall lay beyond the shadows, swallowed by prehistoric growth. Somewhere inside, water dripped steadily. Something rustled. Not the wind. Too deliberate.
She lifted one hand.
The women fell silent immediately.
Sarah listened.
Nothing.
Or at least nothing she recognised as dangerous.
Yet.
She drew a slow breath. "All right."
Her voice barely carried beyond the doorway. "Let's go and see if anyone's still waiting to be found."
Sarah ducked beneath a curtain of broad green fronds and swept her burning torch slowly across what had once been the building's reception area.
The glow caught faded blue carpet beneath a layer of damp earth.
A reception desk lay half buried beneath roots that had forced their way through the tiled floor. Thick vines hung from the ceiling where fluorescent lights had once been. A young tree, its trunk already thicker than Sarah's leg, had erupted through the first floor, carrying broken concrete with it.
Only three years.
Three years ago people had queued here to renew licences and complain about council tax. Now something screeched somewhere high in the canopy above the shattered roof.
Sarah lowered the torch. "Jenny, kitchen."
Jenny nodded.
"Sheila, check those offices."
The women spread out without another word.
Sarah slipped through what had once been the reception counter.
Cupboards stood open. Most had already been searched. One drawer still refused to close. She eased it open.
Plastic cutlery.
Useless.
Another.
Tea bags that had long since turned to mould.
The third drawer stuck halfway. She gave it another pull.
A tin of instant coffee rolled forward.
Behind it sat four unopened tins of soup.
Sarah smiled. "Food."
Jenny appeared almost immediately. "What've you got?"
"Four tins."
"Better than none."
"They're yours." Jenny slid them carefully into the canvas sack hanging at her side.
The little kitchenette beyond was in better condition. Several cupboards had remained closed. Someone had been in a hurry.
Sarah opened the first.
Mugs.
The second.
Cleaning cloths.
The third.
A battered saucepan.
Jenny grinned. "We'll use that."
"So will Lavinia."
The cutlery drawer squealed loudly enough to make both women freeze.
Silence.
Nothing answered.
Sarah slowly finished opening it.
Knives.
Not many.
Three table knives. Two bread knives. One chef's knife.
Jenny gave a low whistle. "Now that's worth carrying."
Sarah wrapped each blade in an old tea towel before placing them into the sack. "No point poisoning ourselves before Lavinia gets to them."
Jenny laughed quietly. "No."
The next cupboard yielded matches sealed inside a plastic container. Another produced bottles of surgical spirit. Sarah added them carefully. By the time they reached the corridor their bags had grown noticeably heavier.
Sheila emerged from another office carrying a battered first aid box. "Still sealed."
"Excellent."
Ruth appeared behind her. "Pencils."
Sarah looked. A whole cardboard box. "Take them."
"Pencils?"
"They don't run out of ink."
Ruth shrugged. "Fair point."
Pens followed.
Rubber bands.
A stapler that Sarah doubted anyone would ever need again.
Belts from abandoned coats.
A cracked mirror.
Lighters.
Everything found a place. Nothing useful stayed behind.
Sarah swept the torch across the far end of the corridor. A staircase disappeared into darkness. "I'll check downstairs."
Jenny frowned. "I'll come."
Sarah shook her head. "You'll fit through fewer places than I will."
"I don't like you going alone."
"You've never liked me going alone."
Jenny didn't answer.
Because Sarah was right.
Sarah smiled. "I'll shout if I need you."
The basement smelled different. Cooler. Damper. The concrete walls sweated with moisture. Fern fronds pushed through cracks in the ceiling. Water dripped steadily somewhere beyond the torchlight.
Sarah kept the spear level as she descended. Halfway down she stopped.
Something moved. A thick body slid across broken concrete. The snake raised its head.
Sarah reacted before she thought. The spear drove forward. The poisoned blade punched cleanly through its neck. The body lashed violently for several seconds before falling still.
Sarah let out the breath she'd been holding. "Sorry." She pulled the blade free with obvious care, wiped it clean against the dead snake's scales and continued down.
The corridor beyond had partially collapsed. Concrete slabs leaned against one another like children's building blocks. The door at the far end had almost disappeared beneath rubble.
Almost.
Sarah crouched.
Fresh scrape marks. Dust disturbed recently. One chunk of concrete had been shifted.
Not much. Enough.
Someone had been here.
"Jenny." Her voice echoed up the stairwell.
Jenny appeared moments later. "What is it?"
Sarah pointed. "See that?"
Jenny crouched beside her. "That's fresh."
Sarah nodded. "I think so."
The opening left beneath the fallen wall wasn't large.
Sarah could probably squeeze through.
Jenny definitely couldn't. "I don't like this."
"I know."
"You shouldn't go."
Sarah studied the narrow gap again. "If somebody got through..." She looked towards the blocked doorway. "...they may still be alive."
Jenny looked at the opening then back at Sarah. "You'll get stuck."
"I've been squeezing through holes behind the Doctor since I was twenty-three."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
Sarah smiled. "It wasn't really intended to." She slipped the canvas bag from her shoulder. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, fetch everyone."
"Sarah—"
"If there are survivors, every minute matters."
Jenny closed her eyes briefly. "I hate it when you're right."
"I know." Sarah lowered herself onto the floor and eased into the gap.
Concrete scraped her shoulders. Roots snagged her hair. For one uncomfortable moment she couldn't breathe deeply enough to move.
She wriggled sideways. Another shove.
The pressure eased.
She dropped awkwardly onto the other side.
Dust drifted through the torchlight.
Silence.
Then a sound. Very faint. A whimper.
Sarah froze.
Another. Someone crying. A child.
She followed the sound along the corridor. Each step made it clearer. Several voices. One sobbing. Another trying not to.
She reached the office door. Locked. Behind it somebody spoke.
"So... someone's there?" The voice cracked on the last word.
Sarah stepped close enough for them to hear her clearly. "Yes."
Silence then a sharp intake of breath.
"I'm going to get you out." She set the spear against the wall and reached into the inside pocket of her jacket. The small leather wallet looked exactly as it had years ago.
The Doctor had once laughed because she carried lock picks more faithfully than lipstick.
The lock clicked on the third attempt.
Sarah pushed the door open. Torchlight filled the room.
Children stared back. Some shielding their eyes. Some too exhausted to move.
The oldest looked about thirteen. The youngest girl couldn't have been more than four. A little boy lay wrapped in a threadbare blanket in the arms of another child no older than six. His crying had become little more than weak whimpers.
Sarah crossed the room immediately. "May I?"
The little girl nodded.
Sarah slipped off her camouflage jacket. The baby disappeared inside it almost completely. She tucked it around him carefully before lifting him into her arms.
He weighed almost nothing. Her stomach tightened.
She looked around the room. "Can everybody walk?"
Several nodded.
A few didn't.
"The older ones help the younger ones."
Nobody argued.
They simply stood.
The thirteen-year-old lifted the smallest girl. Another child took someone's hand.
Sarah smiled. "That's it." She picked up the spear. "Stay close to me."
The journey back through the narrow opening took longer. The older children squeezed through first.
Jenny was waiting on the other side.
For perhaps the first time in days the children saw adults they didn't know. Safe adults. The women moved without hesitation. One took the smallest girl.
Another shouldered abandoned rucksacks. Someone produced a water bottle. Someone else handed out the last of the oatcakes they had brought.
Sarah shifted the sleeping baby slightly.
A small hand touched her sleeve. She looked down. A girl of about eight stared up at her. Dirty. Exhausted. Trying very hard not to cry. "Sarah?"
Sarah blinked. "...Kate?"
Kate nodded once.
Sarah reached down and took her hand.
It was freezing.
Then she looked towards the six-year-old.
"Can you hold her hand for me?"
Kate nodded immediately. The little girl reached for Kate without hesitation.
Sarah squeezed Kate's fingers gently. "We'll talk when we get back to Morton Harwood."
Kate nodded again. She didn't let go of the little girl's hand for the rest of the walk.
By the time Morton Harwood came into view, Daniel had fallen asleep. His tiny hand remained wrapped around the front of Sarah's shirt beneath the camouflage jacket. The sight of people hurrying from the house spread through the line of rescued children.
Some began looking around.
Others simply lowered their heads.
Sarah pushed open the gate. "We've brought children home."
The words had barely left her mouth before someone cried out. "Rachel!"
A woman broke into a run.
One of the girls stopped walking. "Mum!"
Sarah stepped aside as mother and daughter collided.
Another voice. "Peter!"
A man seized a boy who could not have been more than eleven and lifted him clean off the ground.
Children began recognising faces. Parents recognised children they had believed dead. The courtyard filled with tears, laughter and voices speaking over one another.
Sarah simply stood and watched.
This was why they searched every ruin.
One by one the children disappeared into waiting arms.
The thirteen-year-old. Gone.
The little four-year-old. Gone.
Another boy. Another girl.
Eventually the courtyard grew quiet again. Only three children remained beside Sarah.
Kate.
Emily.
Daniel.
No one called their names.
Sarah looked down at Emily.
"What did your mum call you?"
"Emmy."
"And your proper name?"
"Emily."
Sarah smiled gently. "Hello, Emily."
Emily looked at the bundle in Sarah's arms. "That's Danny."
"Daniel?"
Emily nodded. "Mum said I had to keep him warm."
"You did."
"Mum gave him to me."
Sarah crouched so they were eye to eye. "Where was your mum?"
Emily swallowed. "She kissed us." Another swallow. "She said she'd find Dad."
Sarah waited.
"Then the lizard people came."
"They took her?"
Emily nodded once. "They left us."
Sarah reached out and squeezed the little girl's hand. "You're safe now." She stood. "Lavinia." Her aunt was already crossing the courtyard. "The baby." Sarah carefully transferred Daniel into Lavinia's arms.
Lavinia folded back the edge of the camouflage jacket.
The tiny chest rose and fell. Too quickly. Too lightly.
"He needs food."
"I know."
Lavinia looked at Emily. "You're coming with me." Emily immediately reached for Daniel. "I'm not taking him away from you."
Emily hesitated.
"You'll be with him every moment."
Only then did Emily nod.
Lavinia disappeared into the house with Daniel cradled against her shoulder and Emily almost pressed against her side.
Someone near the gate muttered under their breath. "Another three."
Lavinia stopped without turning around. "Sarah Jane climbed into a collapsed building to bring them back."
Silence.
"She risks her life every time she leaves these gates."
Another pause.
"If she says there is room for three more children in my house, then there is room."
No one argued. No one ever argued with Lavinia for long.
Sarah looked towards Kate. "Come on."
Kate followed her into Morton Harwood without a word.
The familiar staircase creaked beneath their feet.
Sarah opened the bedroom door. The room was simple. A narrow bed beneath the window. A wardrobe. A washstand. A desk covered with notebooks, maps and sharpened pencils.
Outside, tents stretched across the gardens where flower beds had once been.
Sarah poured water into the basin. "You can wash."
Kate nodded.
Sarah filled a mug from the pitcher.
Kate emptied it almost without stopping.
Sarah opened the cupboard beside the desk.
Wrapped in cloth lay several bright orange fruits they had discovered growing on one of the new trees. Sweet. Safe. Rare enough that she normally saved them.
She handed one to Kate.
Kate looked at it. "For me?"
Sarah nodded.
Kate ate it slowly.
Sarah added two oatcakes to the plate.
Kate finished those as well.
Only when the little girl finally leaned back did Sarah speak. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Kate stared at the floor. "Mum and I were hiding."
Sarah waited.
"The lizard people found us."
"They found both of you?"
Kate nodded. "They took Mum away." Her voice became very quiet. "They shut the door."
Sarah's hand tightened around the mug. "The office door?"
Another nod. "We tried to get out." Kate looked towards the window. "It wouldn't open. The older children looked after everyone. They tried."
Sarah didn't interrupt.
"We shouted." Kate's eyes filled. "Nobody came. We ran out of food." Another pause. "I thought..." She stopped.
Sarah reached across the space between them and covered Kate's hand with her own. "You don't have to finish."
Kate nodded. After a long silence she looked up. "Do you know where Dad is?"
Sarah wished, with every fibre of her being, that she could say yes. "I don't."
Kate's shoulders slumped.
Sarah squeezed her hand. "But I'm going to find him."
Kate searched her face. "You promise?"
"I promise." It was an impossible promise. Sarah made it anyway. "Until I bring him home..." She smiled. "...you'll stay here."
Kate glanced towards the ceiling where Lavinia was examining Daniel. "With Aunt Lavinia and me."
For the first time since Sarah had unlocked that office door, Kate's expression softened. "All right."
The generator coughed once. Twice. Then settled into its familiar rumble. The lights in the old estate office flickered to life.
Sarah moved before they had stopped blinking.
One switch. Then another. The UNIT communications rack hummed. Needles sprang away from their rests. Oscilloscopes glowed green. Static hissed from half a dozen speakers.
She crossed to the scanner console and began bringing each system online, checking them almost by instinct. Most of the equipment bore scratches and dents from years of service. It was old. Reliable.
Like the men who had once operated it.
She knelt beside the silver-grey shape waiting beneath the desk. "I'm sorry, old friend."
The panel along K-9's back swung open. She checked the connections one final time before pressing the activation switch. His ears lifted. His eyes brightened. "K-9 operational."
"Hello."
"Good morning, Mistress."
"I can't leave you running for long."
"I understand."
"I need you to search every frequency we've logged from the Silurians. Anything about humans still fighting. Military units. Prisoners. UNIT. Anything."
"Affirmative." His head dipped. "The search has commenced."
Sarah turned back to the receivers.
One frequency. Nothing. Another. Only static.
A third crackled with short bursts of harsh, reptilian speech before fading into silence.
She adjusted the gain. Nothing.
The generator continued its steady drone outside.
She scarcely noticed it anymore.
The door opened quietly behind her.
Lavinia stepped inside carrying two mugs. She set one beside the nearest receiver. "You've not eaten."
"I'll eat later."
"You said that three hours ago."
Sarah wrapped her hands around the mug without looking away from the dials. The tea had already begun to cool.
Lavinia studied the room.
Every radio. Every scanner. Every glowing valve. Every scrap of hope consuming precious diesel.
"Do you actually have any evidence that Alistair survived?"
Sarah kept turning the tuning wheel. "No."
"You've found no message."
"No."
"No sightings."
"No."
Lavinia waited.
Sarah continued listening to the static. "I don't need evidence."
Silence settled between them. Not uncomfortable. Just honest.
Lavinia rested one hand against the edge of the desk. "Sarah."
"If he's alive, he'll still be fighting."
"And if he isn't?"
Sarah stopped turning the dial. "He is."
"You don't know that."
"I know him."
Lavinia smiled sadly. "I know."
Sarah finally looked across at her aunt. "The Doctor isn't coming."
Lavinia said nothing. "He would have stopped this already."
Another pause. "I've stopped waiting." She reached across and switched another receiver into the scan. "If mentioning his name frightens the Silurians, I'll keep mentioning it." The speaker crackled. "If they think one of his friends might appear, good."
Another burst of static. "But I'm not expecting him." Her fingers rested on the tuning wheel. "I'm expecting Alistair."
K-9's ears lifted. "Relevant transmission detected."
Sarah spun towards him. "What frequency?"
He recited it immediately.
She crossed the room in three strides and tuned the receiver.
The speaker erupted into harsh, guttural syllables. Fast. Urgent.
She listened. Listened again. Then swore under her breath. "Oh, damn."
Lavinia frowned. "What?"
"I can't understand a word they're saying."
For a moment the room seemed strangely unfamiliar. Alien voices. No effortless understanding. No invisible gift translating the universe around her. Just noise. "K-9?"
"I am capable of translation, Mistress."
Sarah looked at him. "You might have mentioned that."
"You did not ask."
Lavinia hid a smile behind her mug.
Sarah folded her arms. "Translate."
K-9 listened. His head tilted fractionally. "Silurian patrols are pursuing an armed human group."
Sarah's expression sharpened. "Location?"
"The humans are moving north-west." The speaker barked another burst of speech. "The pursuit is approaching the former UNIT headquarters."
Sarah reached for the map spread across the desk. Her finger found the base immediately.
"The transmission identifies the humans as military." Another sentence. "It further states that an officer of strategic significance is believed to be among them."
The room fell utterly still. The doorway creaked.
Kate stood there barefoot, clutching the frame. "Is it Dad?"
Sarah looked at her. "I don't know."
Kate nodded once. Not disappointed. Just absorbing it. "But it could be."
"It could."
K-9 continued. "Silurian reinforcements have been requested."
Sarah marked the map. Then another route. Then another.
She studied the terrain for several long seconds. Finally she reached down and rested one hand on K-9's head. "Thank you."
"You are welcome, Mistress." She switched him off. His lights faded.
The room suddenly seemed quieter despite the radios.
Lavinia watched her fold the map. "What are you going to do?"
Sarah picked up her atlatl. "I need to organise my troop."
"You can't take everyone."
"I won't."
"You may be walking into a trap."
Sarah slung spear over her shoulder.
"Then I'll know before they do."
Kate stepped fully into the room. "You promised."
Sarah met her eyes. "I remember."
Neither of them spoke for several seconds then Sarah smiled.
Only a little.
"I'm going to bring your dad home." She opened the door.
The sound of the generator rolled across the courtyard.
Beyond it, men were repairing the palisade.
Children chased one another between the vegetable beds.
Smoke drifted lazily from the kitchen chimney.
A settlement.
A home.
Something worth coming back to.
Sarah walked into the morning.
"Tell everyone who's fit to ride that we're leaving in thirty minutes."
The women were already waiting.
No one had needed to summon them.
Word travelled quickly through Morton Harwood.
Sarah crossed the courtyard carrying her bow. Conversation stopped. She looked at each face in turn.
Emily Foster.
Margaret Hughes.
Jenny Collins.
Anne Bishop.
Women who had spent the last weeks slipping through jungle that had once been English woodland. Women who could move without disturbing a fern. Who could tell the difference between a dinosaur that had wandered through an hour ago and one that had passed yesterday. Women who had learned because failing to learn meant dying.
"We're moving fast."
No one questioned it.
"We're not foraging."
Several heads nodded.
"We're not scouting."
Jenny tightened the strap on her quiver.
"We're looking for soldiers."
A faint smile crossed Margaret's face. "Alive ones."
Sarah returned it. "That's the idea." She set her own pack on the table. "Travel light."
One blanket. Rope. Water. Medical kit.
Nothing more.
"If we find them, we'll need to move quickly."
The women began quietly removing anything unnecessary from their packs.
Lavinia emerged from the house carrying a wooden tray. Small glass vials rested in carved slots. Each one held barely an inch of dark amber liquid.
No one reached for them immediately.
Lavinia picked one up. "One drop." She uncorked the bottle. "That is all."
She drew an arrow from Sarah's quiver. One careful touch against the steel point. Then she replaced the stopper. "If you cut yourselves..."
"No one touches the wound," Sarah finished.
Lavinia nodded. "I've prepared enough antidote for accidents." Her eyes swept across the women. "Not for carelessness."
One by one they stepped forward. Each accepted a vial. Each tucked it safely away.
No one joked.
No one smiled.
The poison had already proved what it could do.
Lavinia looked from face to face. "If you succeed..." She paused. "...then everyone here will be safer."
Silence answered her. Not because they doubted her. Because every one of them understood exactly what she meant.
Sarah slung her quiver over one shoulder. "Camouflage."
A small mirror appeared on the table. A bowl of dark green paste beside it.
Margaret dipped two fingers into it first. Long streaks across her cheeks. Across her forehead. Then the bridge of her nose. The others followed.
Greens. Dark browns. Charcoal.
Anything that broke up the pale lines of a human face.
Sarah waited until everyone else had finished then she drew two broad stripes beneath her own eyes. Another across her forehead.
She looked less like a journalist than a hunter. Or a soldier.
Kate appeared from the stable carrying Sarah's pack. "I checked the straps."
"Thank you."
"I sharpened your spare knife."
Sarah smiled. "I noticed."
Kate handed it over. "I'll keep watch."
"I know." Sarah fastened the knife to her belt.
For a moment neither of them spoke. Kate looked as though she wanted to.
Instead she simply reached out and straightened one loose feather in Sarah's quiver.
Sarah squeezed her shoulder. "I'll bring him home if I can."
Kate nodded. "I know."
Lavinia stepped forward. She adjusted the collar of Sarah's jacket as though she were still a little girl about to leave for school. "Don't become the patient."
"I'll try not to."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Lavinia rested her hand briefly against Sarah's cheek. "So am I."
Sarah covered her aunt's hand for just a second then let it go. She looked at the women. "Ready?"
Bows were lifted. Packs settled. No one spoke.
Sarah glanced once towards the timber stockade. Beyond it, the jungle waited.
Green.
Silent.
Watching.
She nodded once to Lavinia. Another to Kate then she turned.
The gate opened just wide enough for them to pass.
One after another they slipped through.
By the time the gate closed again, the jungle had already swallowed them whole.
The jungle closed behind them. Branches sprang back into place. Within seconds there was no sign they had ever passed.
Alistair lowered his binoculars. "Move."
The column started again. Twenty soldiers. Four scientists. Everything they had managed to salvage from UNIT headquarters.
Rifles.
Medical supplies.
Boxes of ammunition.
Field radios broken down into manageable loads.
Batteries.
Maps.
Electronic equipment packed into wooden crates and wrapped against the damp.
Nothing useful had been left behind. Not after what had happened.
Sergeant Benton dropped back along the column. "Close it up." The men instinctively shortened the gaps. "Jones. Swap with Wilkins." Wilkins didn't argue. He simply exchanged the heavier crate for a lighter pack. "Keep your spacing." Benton moved on.
One glance at each man.
One quiet word where it was needed.
The line settled into its familiar rhythm.
Captain Harris fell into step beside Alistair. "They'll have reached the base by now."
"I know."
"They'll know we've emptied it."
"I know."
Harris glanced over his shoulder. "They're still coming."
"They'll keep coming."
Behind them the jungle remained silent. Too silent.
The scouting party had found them just after dawn. Five Silurians. The first rifle shot had dropped their leader. The rest of the firefight had lasted seconds. Four bodies lay where they'd fallen. The fifth had survived just long enough.
Long enough to laugh. Long enough to fix his yellow eyes on Alistair.
"We remember you."
Long enough to warn them.
"The hunters are already coming."
Then he'd died.
Lieutenant Evans pushed through a curtain of broad leaves. "Sir."
"Yes?"
"Why us?"
Alistair kept walking. "What do you mean?"
"They're not chasing every group this hard."
"No."
"They called you by name."
"Yes."
"They shouldn't know it."
"They do."
Evans frowned. "I don't understand."
"You don't need to."
The lieutenant accepted the answer.
With UNIT, there were some things that simply belonged in the category marked alien.
Benton caught up with them. "It's you, isn't it, sir?"
Alistair looked across at him.
"They're after you."
"They're after all of us."
"No."
Benton shook his head. "They're hunting us because we're with you."
For a few moments only boots disturbed the silence.
Finally Alistair nodded. "Yes."
Benton absorbed that without another question.
He had served with the Brigadier too long to waste time demanding explanations for impossible things.
Wenley Moor had happened. Everyone remembered it.
Humans remembered standing shoulder to shoulder against an enemy they barely understood. The Silurians remembered the battle that finally broke humanity's resistance. The Sea Devils remembered watching two peoples bleed over a world neither could afford to lose.
The memories had never changed.
Only what came afterwards.
A hand signal travelled back through the column. Everyone froze. Two scouts slipped silently through the undergrowth.
When they returned, one crouched beside Alistair. "Tracks."
"How many?"
"Fifteen. Maybe more."
"Age?"
"About an hour."
"Direction?"
"They crossed ours."
Alistair knelt.
Three-toed prints. Heavy. Fresh. Searching.
Not travelling. Searching.
He stood. "They're spreading out."
Harris nodded. "They're trying to box us in."
"Yes."
One of the scientists shifted the crate digging into his shoulder. "I still don't understand why we're carrying half the communications room."
Alistair looked towards the radio equipment. "If anyone else survived they'll be transmitting."
Understanding dawned. The scientist adjusted the straps and said nothing more.
Benton appeared beside the crate. "I'll take that."
"No, Sergeant, I've got it."
"You've had it for six miles."
Reluctantly the scientist surrendered the load. Benton lifted it onto his own shoulder as though it weighed half as much.
He looked at Alistair. "You've still got your pack."
"I'm perfectly capable of carrying it."
"So am I."
A faint smile tugged at Harris's mouth.
Alistair sighed. "Very well."
He slipped the pack from his shoulders.
Benton caught it before it hit the ground and settled it alongside the communications crate.
"Thank you."
"Yes, sir." There was no triumph in his voice. Only routine. The point moved again.
The column followed.
Every man carried more than his own share.
Every man was exhausted.
No one complained.
Alistair looked briefly through a break in the towering ferns.
The sky was almost invisible beneath the prehistoric canopy.
Liz. He hoped she was still on Moonbase. Safe.
For the first time in years, he found himself grateful she was somewhere he could not reach. Better there than here. Better wondering whether Earth still stood than living through what it had become.
He adjusted his rifle.
"Keep moving."
The column disappeared once more into the green silence.
Sarah crouched beside the print.
Three toes. Deep. The edges were still sharp where the weight had pressed into the damp earth.
She ran two fingers lightly along the edge of it. "Less than two hours."
Emily knelt beside her. "You can tell that?"
Sarah pointed towards a broad fern. "The water hasn't run back into it yet."
She stood. "They're moving quickly."
Margaret had already begun scanning the trees. "How many?"
"At least fifteen."
"No more?"
Sarah shook her head. "More than enough."
The women exchanged glances. No one looked frightened. Only alert.
Sarah studied the trail stretching away through the jungle.
The Silurians weren't trying to hide anymore. They expected to be the hunters.
"Listen."
The women gathered just close enough to hear without raising their voices.
"If we find them..." She looked at each of them. "...make certain what you're shooting."
Jenny nodded. "No guessing."
"No."
"If you can't identify the target..."
"We don't loose."
Sarah smiled faintly. "Exactly."
The smile disappeared almost immediately. "The Doctor always believed there was another way." No one interrupted. "We're not playing by his rules today." The words hung in the humid air. "They've hunted children, they've burned villages, they've driven people out of their homes."
"If you have a clear shot..." She looked back towards the trail. "...take it."
No one questioned the order. Not one. None of them had travelled with the Doctor.
To them the Silurians weren't misunderstood people. They were the reason husbands hadn't come home. The reason children cried themselves to sleep. The reason England no longer existed.
Sarah reached into a pouch and withdrew a small carved wooden whistle. She gave it the gentlest breath.
A soft descending trill drifted through the trees.
Almost identical to one of the bright green birds that had become common since the Change.
Half a minute later the same call answered from somewhere behind them.
Margaret smiled. "They're awake today."
Sarah tucked the whistle away. "If you hear that once it means someone's found tracks."
She gave another call. Two short notes. A pause. One long.
Again the forest answered.
"That means people."
Emily nodded. "And three?"
Sarah's face became serious. "Three means Silurians."
Anne looked upwards into the canopy. "Won't they learn the calls?"
"Eventually." Sarah shrugged. "So we'll invent new ones."
Jenny laughed quietly. "That's wonderfully unfair."
"I learned from the best." Sarah adjusted the strap across her shoulder. "We spread out here."
She pointed ahead. "Emily." She indicated the left. "Take Anne."
"Margaret. Jenny." Then the opposite side. "Keep each other in sight when you can."
"If you can't..." She glanced upwards. "...keep each other in hearing."
The women nodded. "No heroics. If you find humans signal."
"If you find Silurians signal." Sarah smiled grimly. "If you find both wait for me."
Margaret grinned. "I thought you were going to say shoot the Silurians."
"I am."
A few quiet chuckles rippled through the group. The tension eased. Only a little.
Sarah took one final look at the broad trail disappearing into the jungle. "They think they're hunting." She drew an arrow from her quiver. The dark stain of Lavinia's poison gleamed almost black against the steel point. She nocked it. "Let's show them they're being hunted too."
Without another word the little troop melted into the jungle.
One woman became three.
Three became six.
Within moments Sarah could no longer see any of them.
Only the occasional whisper of a fern.
The faint call of an unfamiliar bird.
And somewhere ahead...
The deep, unmistakable footprints of the enemy they intended to find first.
"Contact!" The shout echoed through the jungle.
The first burst of rifle fire answered it. "Down!"
The UNIT soldiers threw themselves behind fallen logs and giant fern trunks as emerald bolts slashed through the undergrowth. Leaves exploded. Tree trunks hissed.
A scientist cried out. "Medic!"
"Keep his head down!" Benton crawled towards the wounded man without hesitation. "Pressure on it."
"I'm trying!"
"Try harder."
Another volley flashed overhead. The jungle lit green. Captain Harris fired twice. "They're moving left!"
"I see them."
Yates slid in beside the Brigadier. "They're flanking us."
"I know." Alistair looked quickly around their position.
Twenty men had become sixteen effective rifles. The scientists had done remarkably well but they weren't soldiers.
The Silurians were closing. Steadily. Methodically.
The radio crate sat abandoned behind a fallen tree.
The batteries.
The medicines.
Everything they'd carried.
If the Silurians broke through it was over.
A voice called from the trees. "Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart."
The firing stopped. Silence spread slowly through the jungle. Even the birds seemed to disappear. The Silurian commander stepped into view. "We remember you."
Alistair stood slowly behind the log. "So you've said."
"You cannot escape."
"No."
"Your companions are surrounded."
Alistair looked briefly towards Benton. Towards Harris. Towards Yates. They all knew it. The commander raised one clawed hand.
"Surrender yourself."
"You alone."
"The others will be permitted to leave."
"Sir..." Yates looked at him. "They're lying."
"I know."
"They'll kill us anyway."
"I know."
Benton met his eye. "Then don't."
Alistair looked around the little circle of tired faces.
Mud.
Blood.
Exhaustion.
Men who had followed him through impossible things. He wasn't about to waste what little chance they had.
"It's the only option we've got."
"No, sir."
"It is."
Benton opened his mouth. Closed it again. He knew that tone.
The decision had already been made.
Alistair laid his rifle carefully on the ground. He removed his webbing. His revolver.
Then stepped away from the log. Slowly. Both hands raised.
The Silurian commander watched him approach.
Satisfied.
He gestured.
Two warriors moved forward. Neither lowered their weapons. Neither took their eyes from the Brigadier. They were barely ten paces away.
Then a strange cry rang through the jungle. Not quite a bird. Not quite an animal.
Every head turned instinctively.
The first arrow came almost silently. The second followed so closely it seemed part of the same breath.
Both Silurians stopped, looked down.
Each had a steel point buried deep in his throat. For a heartbeat no one moved then both collapsed. Dead before they struck the ground.
The commander's eyes widened.
Movement. High above.
A figure dropped from the broad branch of an ancient looking tree. She landed lightly between the Brigadier and the Silurians. One knee touched the ground. She rose immediately. An atlatl rested easily in her left hand. Another poisoned dart already lay in its groove.
Her face was streaked with green and dark brown.
Her clothes blended almost perfectly with the jungle.
Only one thing refused to disappear.
The grin.
"The man you're trying to take..." Sarah Jane's voice carried clearly through the clearing. "...is my friend."
She tilted her head.
"He's also a friend of the Doctor." A pause. "Like me."
Recognition flickered across the commander's face. Sarah's smile grew.
"You are ahead of me." She glanced back over one shoulder. "He is behind me."
She looked at the commander again. "If you value your lives..." Her thumb settled against the dart. "...be somewhere else."
The jungle answered her.
A whistle. Soft. Almost indistinguishable from the surrounding wildlife.
Then another.
Then another.
Leaves stirred.
One woman stepped from behind a tree. Another emerged from a curtain of ferns. A third appeared on a fallen trunk several metres above the ground. Then two more.
Every one of them held an atlatl.
Every one of them had a dart already drawn back.
Every point aimed unerringly at a Silurian.
The commander slowly looked from one hidden hunter to the next. He had expected frightened refugees. Instead he had walked into an ambush.
Behind Sarah, Yates stared. "Bloody hell..."
Benton allowed himself the smallest smile. "I was wondering when Miss Smith was going to arrive."
Alistair hadn't taken his eyes off Sarah. For one impossible, absurd moment the jungle no longer seemed quite so hopeless.
She hadn't just found them. She'd come looking.