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The right of Adrian Sherlock

to be identified as the Author of the Work has been


asserted in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Copyright © Adrian Sherlock 2016

Characters and Concepts from ‘The Web of Fear’


© Hannah Haisman & Henry Lincoln
Lethbridge-Stewart: The Series © Andy Frankham-Allen
& Shaun Russell 2015, 2016

Doctor Who is © British Broadcasting Corporation, 1963, 2016.

Editor: Shaun Russell


Range Editor: Andy Frankham-Allen
Licensed by Hannah Haisman
Cover by Richard Young

Published by
Candy Jar Books
Mackintosh House
136 Newport Road, Cardiff, CF24 1DJ
www.candyjarbooks.co.uk

All rights reserved.


No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted at any time or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise
without the prior permission of the copyright holder. This book
is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade
or otherwise be circulated without the publisher’s prior consent
in any form of binding or cover other than that in
which it is published.
LETHBRIDGE-STEWART
THE PLAYING DEAD

Based on the BBC television serials by


Mervyn Haisman & Henry Lincoln

Adrian Sherlock

CANDY JAR BOOKS . CARDIFF


A Russell & Frankham-Allen Series
2016
— CHAPTER ONE —

S ilence greeted 2nd Lieutenant William Bishop’s


confused mind when he woke up; a silence like death
itself.
His dreams had ended abruptly, but he could only
think it was the complete absence of sound that had finally
awoken him. His mind still swirled with his dreams; sights
and sounds mixed together. His superior officer, Brigadier
Lethbridge-Stewart, looming tall over him with that
remarkably trimmed moustache, and the smiling face of
Anne Travers, the woman Bishop… He didn’t complete
that thought.
But now those warm ghosts faded into darkness as he
blinked and focused his eyes on the room. He took in the
calmness of his room and the dappled sunlight which
streamed so calmly through the blinds. It occurred to him
that the silence was utterly wrong.
It was broad daylight outside. So why was there no
sound? It made no sense. No sense at all.
‘Anne?’ His own voice sounded dry and weak, like
he needed a coffee to warm his vocal chords. He and Anne
had been staying here, in this hotel (separate rooms, of
course!), while they waited for Lethbridge-Stewart to
1
organise their return trip from Australia to the UK. He
didn’t want to think about the events which had brought
them all here. Right now, he just wanted to find Anne.
She had promised to wake him with a nice strong coffee,
and he’d given her a key to his room.
He listened, wondering if perhaps she was in his
bathroom. Just the silence. Then something occurred to
him. The cars… the traffic. Where was it?
He ripped off the bed covers and got up, stumbling
across the carpet to the windows. A sudden sensation of
cold fear pricked at the skin on his spine and neck. His
breathing picked up speed, his heart pounding.
Come on. Tell me I’m panicking over nothing.
He opened the blinds and looked out through the gaps
at the streets below.
The roads, the pavements, the sides of buildings and
shops in the little town were all bathed in golden sunshine.
But nothing was moving out there. Nothing at all.
Where is everyone?
Bishop stood there, staring, until he could take it no
longer. He reeled back, turned away and put a hand over
his eyes. He took several deep breaths and tried to calm
himself. His every instinct told him something was
terribly wrong, but he had to fight the fear, had to get
control of himself.
He was a soldier after all, and in any adverse situation
a soldier knew one basic principle: remember your
training.
In his head, Bishop could hear the imaginary voice of
2
Lethbridge-Stewart, unflappable as ever, saying, ‘Come
now, Bishop, pull yourself together, man! No sense
getting out of sorts over this. A recce; that’s the first thing.
Information, intelligence. A military man always gathers
intelligence first. Need to know what we’re up against.
Common sense, really!’
Bishop sighed and opened his eyes, looked around the
room and spotted the television set. This was no time for
an American sit-com, but he did wonder if there might be
some news. He switched on the set and stood back,
waiting for it to warm up. Australia had not yet caught up
with other countries in the western world and so the only
television here was in black and white. But when the set
warmed up and came on, the screen showed only a crackle
of interference.
He turned the channel selector dial, but every channel
was the same. He checked behind the set, to make sure
the aerial wire was plugged in; it was fine. For a moment
he stared into the crackling blank screen. It seemed
somehow hypnotic.
Then he snapped it off in frustration.
Turning, he spotted the telephone. He hurried to it,
snatched up the receiver and was unsurprised to discover
there was no dial tone. Angrily, he dropped the receiver
back into its cradle.
No phone. No television. No traffic on the roads… It’s
worse than a bank holiday in Mitcham.
He thought he heard something.
‘Hello?’
3
Nothing. Whatever it was, it had only lasted a split
second. He stared at the door of the room. Had it come
from that direction? Yes, he decided, it had. But what was
it? A voice? A cry? Someone calling out? Perhaps it’s
Anne, he thought. Could it be? He needed to find out for
sure.
‘A little recce, eh, Brigadier, sir? Right you are, sir,’
he muttered to himself.
Sucking in a deep, deep breath, Bishop marched across
to the door and unlocked it. He turned the door handle
slowly, tensely. Then he ripped it open.
‘Hello?’
There was nothing, again. Just silence and an empty
passageway.
He sighed, put on his civvies, made sure he had his
room key and then went out, locking the door behind him.
It was time, he decided, to get to the bottom of this
day-mare.
Gritting his teeth, Bishop headed down the silent
passage, towards the stairwell, and began his descent
towards whatever he may eventually discover waiting for
him below.
The lobby of the hotel was equally silent and deserted.
The desk was unattended, yet the main exit and entrance
was open for the world outside. He turned slowly, taking
in all the motionless detail, but as he gazed towards the
exit, not a single car or pedestrian went by. It was, quite
literally, lifeless.
Pushing himself to fight down the fear, Bishop drew
4
himself up to the fullness of his six feet and strode towards
the exit. A moment later he passed through the doors and
out onto the pavement. The morning sunshine was warm
and he felt himself squinting in it. But after a moment he
relaxed his facial muscles and looked up and down the
street.
The whole area seemed to be deserted.
He laughed, bitterly. Did the world come to an end
and I never received the memo?
Ever since that first time working with Lethbridge-
Stewart he had known that Hamlet was right on the money
when he said there were more things in Heaven and Earth
than his poor old mate Horatio had even dreamed of,
including robotic Yeti and much more besides. And as his
involvement had deepened, particularly now he was
courting Anne, he had resigned himself to the idea that he
would probably have to face much more again. But this?
This was something he was not prepared for. No one
briefed him that Doomsday was on the cards.
Doomsday? I wonder. The end of the world is nigh?
But all the buildings are intact.
It made no sense. Of course, there was the threat of
the neutron bomb, but if the Russians had dropped one of
them, he’d be dead too. Neutrons play no favourites; he’d
have fried with the rest. And besides, there’d be bodies
all over the place. There were no bodies to be seen. This
was more like the Mary Celeste. An evacuation perhaps?
He could waste all day speculating, but he needed to
move, he needed to search, explore and see what he could
5
find. If this really was an empty town, he needed to know
it for a fact.
Wasting no more time, he sprinted across the road and
began walking up the street towards the nearest
intersection. He had to find out what was out there or,
indeed, what was not. One way or another, he needed to
know what was going on in this silent place.

6
— CHAPTER TWO —

I t seemed as if some kind of creeping, primal dread was


beginning to take hold of his mind. Bishop staggered
into a café and stopped to catch his breath.
He’d been searching the town for over two hours now
and his face was dripping with perspiration. He plonked
himself down on a seat and banged the table. ‘Waiter!
Hey! Waiter! Out here! You’ve a customer!’
He didn’t bother to look up. He knew by now that no
one was listening, no one was coming. He was totally
alone in this crazy nightmare of a town. He rested his head
on the table top, relieved by the cool feeling of the red
Laminex, a distinctly Australian feature, chuckling to
himself.
‘What kind of rubbish service do they call this, then?
Eh? Back home they’d never stand for this. I knew it. I
knew Australians were taking their colony for granted.
They’ve probably all gone to the beach, or maybe they’re
playing cricket. They’ve got it too good with all this sunny
weather.’
After a minute of resting he sighed and dragged
himself back to his feet. He looked around the empty diner
and noticed a section of the place had a long wall mirror.
7
He laughed wearily and stumbled over to it. There, in the
mirror, he saw the reflection of the only human face he
had seen all day.
He regarded his distinctive blue eyes and chestnut
coloured hair. It was a look that had once got him teased
at school when his hair was more ginger… but now it was
a look he liked, and it had apparently gone down well with
Anne. But his face was drawn and tired now, from stress
and effort.
‘All right, fella.’ He waved at his reflection. ‘There’s
no one else to talk to, so I guess it’s just the two of us.
And if you don’t mind my saying so, you look like hell.’
He moved closer and reached a hand up slowly. For
a moment he wanted to reach through the glass to see if
the other man in the mirror could be flesh and blood.
‘Don’t think this is what Aldiss had in mind. Can’t see
myself ending up in a rural paradise, ready to be
mankind’s new Adam.’
He placed his hand flat on the mirror. ‘Oh, come on!’
he shouted. ‘Just tell me! Where the hell are they? Where
are the people? What’s really going on here? Tell me!’
He balled a first and slammed it against the mirror.
The glass cracked and he whipped his hand back in sudden
pain. Blood trickled down from his cracked knuckles.
‘Damn it!’
He put the wounded hand up to his mouth and a
sudden jarring sound shattered his thoughts. He whirled
around. It was a telephone by the till. The telephone was
ringing. But it made no sense. If there were no people,
8
how could it be ringing? Unless there was someone else
here.
He ran over and snatched up the receiver. ‘Hello?
Hello? Hello!’
There was no answer, just dead air.
‘Who is this? Why don’t you say something? Speak
to me! Please! Who are you? Just tell me! What is going
on here?’
Nothing. He listened to the silence for a minute, then
replaced the receiver.
Someone is out there. There has to be. Phones don’t
just ring without reason! There must be someone else out
there… there has to be. I’m not alone.
Determined to find out what was going on, Bishop
headed out of the door of the little diner and into the
streets.
Once he was outside again he began to hurry along
the empty road. He ran for a few minutes, then stopped.
Up ahead was the centre of town. With a sound so abrupt
it made Bishop jump, the bell from the old clock-tower
began to chime. In the silent, emptiness, the chimes rang
out so sharply that he reeled back, covering his ears with
his hands. The sounds were making his brain hurt.
And then they stopped.
Abrupt and resolute, the silence returned.
Or did it?
No, he realised, there was another sound. But what?
After a moment he realised it was the sound of a car.
It was behind him. He whipped around. He was staring
9
at it. The car was coming down the street, straight towards
him. With a chill of horror, he realised it was going to run
him down like a stray dog in the road.
‘No!’
He sprang onto the pavement and turned to look back,
just in time to see the car whizz past him at terrific speed.
Where it continued until it barrelled straight into a brick
wall at the end of the road. The impact was tremendous,
a deafening bang as the whole front end was demolished
on impact. Steam erupted from the shattered radiator and
the engine died like a growling, agonised animal.
Bishop stared for a moment, and then raced down the
street as fast as he could go.
When he reached the crashed car, he looked inside.
There was no driver. He grabbed the door handle of the
driver’s door and pulled it open. Inside there was a set of
keys hanging from the ignition, the driver’s seat belt was
done up, but there was no one in the car.
‘Tilt!’ He was trying to be ironic, but as he looked
around the empty streets, everything seemed to sway.
It was like he was drugged or dreaming. He was not
feeling very well. He wanted to get back to the hotel room,
back to some kind of safety, maybe to some rest. This
exploration had proven to be truly unnerving and he had
really had enough for the time being.
Looking around he saw another car parked by the side
of the road. He went over to it and looked inside. Sure
enough it too contained a set of keys. He got in, fired up
the engine and drove away, heading back to his hotel room.
10
When he reached the hotel it was as silent and
motionless as he’d left it. He headed up the stairs, down
the passageway and took out his room key. But to his
surprise he found the door to his room was already
unlocked.
He put away the key and steeled himself. If there was
an intruder in his room, then the person might be on edge,
not unlike Bishop himself. In the heat of the moment
anything could happen.
Taking a deep breath, Bishop pushed the door wide
open and then leaped into the room.
There appeared to be no one in there. He frowned,
looking about. Nothing seemed to have changed, either.
Then he heard a sound. It was behind him. Was it
footsteps? Someone coming up the passageway?
He turned and looked back at the door. Then he looked
around. He decided to flatten himself against the wall and
wait, out of sight of the door.
The sound drew closer and closer. Finally, a shadowy
shape appeared though the gap in the door.
Bishop gritted his teeth and sprang forward. The
intruder jumped out at him, a gleaming knife blade
coming up towards his face, pointed at his throat.
‘Hold it!’
‘Anne!’
Anne Travers stared at him, still holding the knife at
the ready. ‘Bill! Oh my goodness! Bill! Is it you? Is it
really… you?’
‘What?’ Bishop struggled to understand. ‘Of course
11
it’s me! Who else could I possibly be?’
‘In this crazy, nightmare town, I shudder to think.’
Bishop looked at the knife in her hand. ‘Listen, Anne,
it’s really me! I’m not a dream or a phantom or… any
other bloody thing. It’s really me.’
‘Oh, Bill! It’s you! It’s really you.’ Anne smiled and
threw her arms out wide. ‘Come here.’
‘I never argue with a woman who’s armed with a
knife.’
‘Oh, yes. Sorry.’ She lowered the knife and then
hugged Bishop tightly.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Oh, I’ve been so frightened. It’s terrible. All the
people… We’ve seen so much, experienced all these
wonderful things, but… I just don’t understand what could
have happened to them all. It’s not an evacuation situation,
like we experienced in London. It’s as if everyone’s just
vanished.’
Their hug lasted a little longer and Bishop tried to help
her calm down. Finally, they stepped back and regarded
one another. Anne asked, ‘How are you then?’
‘I’ve been better,’ Bishop admitted. ‘Did you find
anything out there? Any clues?’
‘Nothing conclusive,’ Anne replied. ‘There were
houses with food and drink on the tables, but no people.
The radio is dead.’
‘Same with phones and televisions. But a phone rang
for no reason when I was in a diner.’
‘I saw a plane go overhead. I think it crashed in the
12
distance. There was a sound like distant thunder and I
could see smoke, a long way off.’
Bishop sighed and nodded. ‘It’s insane. There has to
be an explanation, a logical one.’
‘Let’s check it together this time,’ Anne suggested.
‘Well, if you insist.’

A few hours later, Bishop and Anne were back in the


middle of the town. They had spent the afternoon looking
around for any clues, but it was all the same. No people,
no explanations.
‘Not a sausage.’ Bishop sighed.
‘No. It all seems so hopeless.’
They both regarded the sky and the way the sun was
now kissing the hills in the distance.
‘We’d better be getting back to the hotel room,’ Anne
said. ‘The sun’s setting. I don’t really fancy being out here
in the dark. Somehow I don’t think I’d feel very safe.’
‘Okay then,’ Bishop agreed. ‘Yes, let’s get back to the
car.’
They walked along the deserted main street. The
orange glow of sunset seemed to bring a fiery aura to the
tops of the buildings. The car was up ahead, just a short
distance away. Bishop enjoyed the feeling of Anne by his
side, and his mind drifted momentarily away to the idea
of a relaxing night back the hotel bar. It was going to be
a relief after this day.
And then, just as they reached the car, there was a loud
bang. Bishop and Anne both stopped dead in their tracks.
13
They turned to look for the source of the sound.
‘Bill, what was that?’
‘It sounded like a door opening. Somewhere… But I
don’t see anything.’
A second loud, sharp noise came from another
direction. They whirled, and this time they saw a door in
the side of a building, wide open.
As night began to fall and the light faded, a dark figure
shambled out of the open doorway.
‘It’s a man!’ Anne cried excitedly. ‘Bill, it’s a man!
We’re not alone! There are people!’
‘People who only come out at night?’
‘Come on, Bill, let’s see who it is.’
‘Anne, wait,’ Bishop said, but he wasn’t quick enough
to stop her.
There were more bangs and clangs around them now,
as if other doors were being shoved open from within.
Perhaps others were emerging into the night.
‘Anne, come back!’
‘Hello? Who are you?’ Anne asked of the man
standing in the doorway shadow. ‘Can you help us? My
name is Anne.’
Bishop was already at her shoulder when the shabby
figure turned towards her and grabbed hold of her arms.
‘Bill!’
‘Let her go!’
Out of the shadows Bill was able to make out the face
of the man who had grabbed his girlfriend. It was pale,
the skin rotten, and the eyes glassy and dead.
14
‘Get it off of me!’ Anne shrieked.
Bill punched the dead-eyed man in the face as hard as
he could, then grabbed a wrist and ripped one of its hands
free of Anne’s arm. Anne did her best to free herself from
the remaining hand. Bill punched the dead man again and
it released its grip. A final shove sent it crashing onto the
pavement.
‘What… what’s wrong with him?’ Anne asked,
leaning down to get a better look.
Bishop pulled her back up. ‘Anne, I think he’s sick.’
The corpse-like figure on the pavement continued to
move. It slowly got back to its feet and turned to stare at
them with its ghastly dead eyes.
Bishop tensed at the cacophony of sounds rising up
around them from a dozen directions; the bangs of doors
crashing open, the sounds of shuffling footsteps on the
pavements, the guttural grunts and hisses of lungs that
had lost the capacity to breathe the way healthy, living
bodies did. Soon figures were visible in all directions,
ambling with slow determination towards them.
Bishop said, ‘Quick! Get in the car!’
They both jumped into the car, pulled the doors shut
and locked them. Bishop fired up the engine and switched
on the head lights.
He reversed away from the approaching, shambling
figures and then turned the car around.
‘Oh, no. Look!’ Anne pointed in horror.
Ahead of them, half a dozen of the pale, shambling
people were lined up across the road. For a moment
15
Bishop and Anne were stupefied into silence, and all they
could do was watch as the figures walked towards them,
raising their claw-like hands, ready to attack.
‘What has happened to them?’ Anne asked.
‘I don’t know. But I’m reminded of that film we saw
early this year. The Omega Man.’
Anne looked at Bishop, her eyes wide with incredulity.
‘Hang on, didn’t you say that those albino things were
meant to be vampires?’
‘In the book, yes, but in the film…?’ Bishop shook
his head and looked out at the shambling figures. ‘More
like zombies.’ He shifted the gearstick. ‘Hang onto your
hat, Annie!’ He planted his foot, the engine roared and
Anne covered her face as the car ploughed right through
the walking dead men. There was a sickening sound of
cracking glass as one of them broke part of the windshield
with its body.
They headed back towards their hotel, but Bishop
wondered, over the pounding sound of his heartbeat,
whether that place would really be any safer than here.

16
— CHAPTER THREE —

S eeing their hotel up ahead through the shattered


windshield, Bishop and Anne prepared themselves
for more trouble. Bishop knew the risky part was getting
from the car to the building. For a short time they would
be completely exposed and at the mercy of whatever
might come at them.
‘There it is, hurry up,’ Anne said.
‘Do you see anything out your side? Any movement?’
Anne looked out of the window at the darkened street.
‘No, nothing.’
‘I guess we just have to risk it.’ Bishop pulled up in
front of the hotel. But no sooner had he turned the engine
off than the passenger window shattered in a rain of
broken glass, and a twisted bloody hand punched its way
through into the car.
‘Bill!’ Anne’s cry was distorted by the dead hand
pressed over her mouth. She tried to fight it off as it
grabbed for her neck.
Bishop fired the engine back up. ‘Hang on!’
He threw the car into reverse and planted his foot. The
car lurched backwards and, for a few moments, he realised
they were dragging the dead man along by his arm. Bishop
17
hit the brakes. The car stopped abruptly, and the creature
lost its grip, flying some distance ahead. Anne caught her
breath. The dead thing was getting back to its feet and
turning to come at them again.
Bishop changed gears and drove forward, clipping the
body and sending it reeling away. He pulled up in front
of the hotel again. ‘Let’s go!’
He and Anne scrambled out of the car.
The creature they had hit was coming back for more.
And there were others further up the street, lumbering
slowly, relentlessly towards them.
Once inside, Bishop quickly turned the lock. He
grabbed the lobby furniture and pushed it in front of the
door. Anne saw what he was doing and joined in.
‘Come on!’ He grabbed Anne and pulled her towards
the stairs.
Bishop closed the stairwell door and locked it. They
raced up the stairs, haunted by the sound of banging as
creature after creature attacked the locked door
relentlessly. Bishop and Anne stepped out into the passage
way. It was silent and empty. So far, so good, Bishop
thought. He led the way to their room and pushed the door
open.
The room inside looked silent and empty too. He
headed in cautiously, and Anne followed. Once inside,
she locked the door and pushed a chair up under the
handle for good measure.
Bishop felt himself relax at last. ‘I think we’ve made
it.’
18
‘What an absolute nightmare.’ Anne sighed, clearly
shaken, the blood draining from her face.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Not even remotely.’ Anne forced a half smile.
‘Zombies!’
Bishop knew how she felt, and now the adrenalin was
easing off he could feel the reality of their situation
sinking in. ‘Is it really possible?’ he asked. ‘I mean, can
they really be, well, the walking dead? Animated corpses?’
Anne shrugged. ‘Is it any different to what happened
to Staff Sergeant Arnold?’
Bishop supposed she was right. But this was
different… right?
‘We’ve seen some pretty strange things in the last year
or so,’ Anne reminded him. ‘We’ve seen the Great
Intelligence reanimate dead bodies. Well, I saw it in
London at least, and you were there when Lethbridge-
Stewart followed Arnold to Bledoe. But this? This isn’t
the same thing. I mean, you saw those things.’ She shook
her head and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Maybe this is the
result of some kind of virus? The possibilities are
potentially endless, really. It’s hard to say without
knowing more of the facts. I can only theorise, and very
loosely at that.’
Bishop nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. He
went to the window and looked out through the gaps in
the blinds. Outside, in the darkened street below, he saw
them. There was a whole horde of them now. Shuffling,
shambling, ragged corpses with pale skin and dead,
19
staring eyes. They were slowly arriving from different
directions and a few of them were at the car, pawing at it.
‘They act like mindless morons. Yet there’s something
else, almost as if they’re hungry, like animals looking for
food, searching for prey.’
‘Can they get in here?’ Anne asked, coming to his side.
‘I think they’ll try their best to get in, but we might be
lucky enough to keep them out.’
‘If anything happens…’ Anne stopped, her voice
cracking. ‘Well, I hope you get away.’
Bishop turned to her and saw the look of fear in her
eyes. ‘Hey, look, Anne, I’m not leaving here without you
and that’s final. If anything happens to you, it happens to
me too. Either we both get out of this, or neither of us.
But I will not run and leave you.’
‘Not even if I’m dead?’ Anne asked.
‘Don’t even think about that.’ Bishop shook his head
softly, feeling his heart pound at the idea of such a thing.
‘We have to get out of this. We have to. That’s all there
is to it.’
‘I’m not sure it’s possible.’ Anne sighed.
‘Look, you’re a scientist. Everything you’ve seen
today… Can you make sense of it?’
Anne stared at him a moment. He knew that focusing
on science always comforted her. She put a hand on her
hip, tilted her head and frowned at him. ‘The whole town
was deserted when we woke up, all the people have
seemingly vanished. And then we find that they’re dead,
but not actually lifeless. I’m trying to make sense of it,
20
but there’s a lack of data.’
Bishop considered what she was saying. ‘What about
the plane you saw crash, and the car I saw? The car was
empty. Where do they fit into the puzzle?’
‘And food on tables, untouched, abandoned,’ Anne
added, thoughtfully. ‘Yes, it’s as if the people have just
vanished, quite literally disappeared into thin air. I
suppose it could be possible for them to be taken by some
form of matter transference, a kind of teleportation.’
‘You mean someone might’ve done that? And then
converted them into zombies?’
‘And sent them back to take over?’
‘Quite a plan.’
‘It’s only conjecture, Bill,’ Anne told him. ‘A good
scientist doesn’t leap to conclusions. There’s not enough
evidence to be certain of anything at this stage. Even the
notion that these people are zombies is just hypothetical.’
‘Yeah, what makes a zombie a zombie anyway?’
Anne shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Hardly my field of
expertise.’
‘Or mine.’ Bishop look around the room, wishing he
could just pretend nothing was going on beyond the four
walls. But he couldn’t. ‘Listen, I’ll keep watch here. Why
don’t you make coffee or something? At least the power
is still on.’
Anne laughed. ‘Actually, I might go and freshen up
first.’
She turned away and Bishop moved closer to the
window, gazing down at the shambling horde in the street
21
outside. He wondered how long it would take them to
break in.
He was still studying the creatures outside when he
heard Anne scream. He whirled around in time to see
Anne struggling to escape from a tall, grey-skinned
zombie that was coming out of the bathroom.
Only it wasn’t any old zombie – it was Brigadier
Lethbridge-Stewart!

22
— CHAPTER FOUR —

‘A hhh, there you are,’ the zombified-Lethbridge-


Stewart gurgled to Anne. ‘Been looking for you
two. Glad I finally caught you.’
For a moment Bishop froze, his mind unwilling to
process the image. This was the man he’d sworn his
unwavering allegiance to, the man who had shown so
much faith in him and asked for him to join the Corps in
March last year, the one who… Anne’s scream pulled
Bishop out of his stupor.
‘Over here!’ Bishop had to get its attention. He
grabbed a coffee mug from the bedside table and threw
it. The mug struck Lethbridge-Stewart in the back of the
skull and shattered. The lumbering form of his
commanding officer turned his attention away from the
horrified Anne and stared directly at Bishop with pale,
dead eyes.
‘Bill, be careful!’ Anne cried.
Once again Bishop was frozen. He couldn’t fight
Lethbridge-Stewart. The man had…
‘Bill, look out!’
Anne’s shout did the trick.
‘Come on, come at me! Show me what you’re made
23
of!’ Bishop steeled himself as the creature (he couldn’t
afford to think of it as Lethbridge-Stewart anymore)
looked at him.
Anne hung back, waiting and watching.
The dead soldier charged at Bishop, raising its claw-
like hands, reaching out as it lunged. Bishop kept his nerve
to the last second, then ducked and threw his arms forward
as the creature bore down. He wrapped both arms around
its legs and lifted it up. With its forward momentum, it
flew over Bishop and went head first into the window.
The glass pane shattered and the creature sailed out into
space, hurtling down into the street below.
Bishop turned and looked out through the broken
window and saw the dead officer lying in the street, its
body shattered and twisted, shards of glass all around it.
Its fellow creatures regarded it dispassionately, and then
looked upwards towards Bishop in the window.
He stepped back and turned to Anne.
‘I just killed him.’
Anne swallowed. ‘Bill, he was already dead. That
wasn’t the brigadier.’ She placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘We need to focus.’
Bishop nodded. She was right. ‘If they didn’t know
we were up here before, they certainly do now.’
‘What can we do?’
‘We have to keep them at bay until morning. They
seem to like the dark. Remember? They emerged when
the sun went down and not before. If we can hold out here
until morning, we might be able to survive.’
24
‘This could be a long night,’ Anne said.
Sure enough, they heard the distant sounds of breaking
glass. It seemed the battle was just beginning. The sound
of feet dragging along the corridor outside. How had they
got in? There was noise, banging and clanging, doors
being bashed in perhaps.
‘We need weapons, something to fight with,’ Bishop
said. ‘They’re coming for us.’
‘We can’t fight so many of them.’
Bishop stared at the door and watched the handle begin
to turn.
‘We either fight or we die, Anne. It’s as simple as that.
We’ve got zombies in the building. They’re probably
massing outside this room right now, and it won’t take
them long to break in.’
‘We’re finished then. Aren’t we?’
‘If only we had some proper fire-power, we might
stand a chance, but whatever happens, we have to fight to
the last breath. Survival of the fittest. You know, this
being Darwin and all.’
‘Great,’ Anne said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
‘Always wanted to die in a hotel in Darwin, being eaten
by zombies. You choose the best holiday spots, Bill.’
Bishop looked at her and smiled. Despite everything,
Anne refused to crack.
Bishop watched the door split and crack under the loud
and violent assault from outside. Finally, the door gave
way.
He tensed and prepared to fight, beside him Anne did
25
likewise, ready to put the self-defence lessons he’d taught
her to good use.

26
— CHAPTER FIVE —

W ith a gasp of terror, Bishop awoke.


He couldn’t move!
He was lying on a kind of long, thin table, held down
by a pair of straps. The sun was shining. Was it daytime?
Somehow he had survived the night. Or had he?
He had a sudden thought. ‘Anne?’
Turning his head, he noticed Anne was lying
motionless on top of a second table beside him. She had
a silver metal band around her forehead. Now he saw it,
he felt something similar on his own head.
‘Anne! Hey! Anne? Can you hear me? Wake up!’ She
was not answering, not moving.
The zombie creatures must have captured them. He
couldn’t remember any details, but guessed he must have
been knocked out in the fight. But this place was
something new.
‘Anne! You have to wake up!’
After a moment Anne stirred and looked towards him.
He now saw that in the middle of the metal band around
her forehead was a kind of eye: green and glowing with
light.
She stared at him. ‘What happened? The last thing I
27
remember we were fighting an influx of those zombie
things!’
‘They must have taken us prisoner.’ Bishop struggled
to get free of the straps.
‘Whoever heard of zombies taking prisoners?’
Bishop had to admit that it did sound absurd, but then
who knew how zombies acted in real life? ‘Does rather
suggest some mastermind behind all this,’ he pointed out.
‘Hurry!’ Anne hissed. ‘They can’t be far away. If they
come back while we’re still trapped, we’ll be done for.’
‘If I can just get one hand free.’ Bishop strained and
gritted his teeth, forcing one flat hand up over his chest
and through the strap. There was a burning sensation as
he scraped the skin on the back of his hand. But once a
hand was out, he was able to work on the strap. Soon, he
slid himself out of one strap and drew his legs up through
the second and jumped off the table. He quickly went to
work freeing Anne, expecting zombies to come for them
at any time.
‘These things we’re wearing on our heads; I’ve never
seen anything like them before,’ Anne said.
‘No time to worry about them now.’
‘But it could be important.’
Catching the tone of her voice, Bishop ripped his
headband off and studied the pulsing green eye unit.
‘Those zombies must’ve put this on our heads. But what
for? What’s the big idea?’
Anne turned and looked around. The room was just
like their hotel room, only it wasn’t quite the same. There
28
was a huge circular disk, like a kind of screen, in one wall.
There was a panel beneath it, covered in round nodules,
all marked with odd symbols.
‘What is it?’ Bishop asked. ‘Can you interpret the
letters or whatever they are?’
Anne studied the symbols carefully. ‘I think this is
some kind of computer.’
‘A computer? Not like any computer I ever heard of.’
Anne touched one of the nodules. The circular screen
lit up. It filled with images of Anne and Bishop, fighting
the zombies. It was all there, every last detail of what they
went through, accompanied by written text in the same
alien language, a kind of playback of the past day.
‘I don’t get it,’ Bishop said. ‘Were we filmed or
something?’
‘Put the headband on again. Trust me, I want to test
something.’
Bishop knew not to argue and fetched the headband.
Once he and Anne were both wearing their headbands,
Anne reached down to the computer and touched a control.
Almost instantly, Bishop and Anne were back in the
middle of Darwin, standing in the main street, a clear blue
sky over head. The whole place was silent and empty.
Bishop whirled round in amazement.
‘How did we get back here?’
‘My hand, Bill! I think I can still feel the control.’
Bishop looked at Anne’s outstretched hand. It was as
if she was pretending to hold onto something which was
not there.
29
‘I don’t see anything.’
‘I’m going to turn it off. Are you ready to see the world
explode?’
Bishop laughed. ‘I guess so.’
Anne turned her outstretched hand. All around them
reality stretched, as if the town was not really there at all.
It was as if the town was a reflection in a gigantic mirror
and now the mirror was slowly bending and splitting.
Spidery lines of white light made their way down from
the sky, like cracks in the world itself.
Bishop felt the air turn cold against his cheeks and his
hands. There was a sound now, like tortured metal and
rising thunder. He tensed, looking left and right. He
noticed Anne was more fascinated than afraid, watching
the whole breakdown of Darwin like it was nothing more
than an exciting film at the pictures. And then with a
blinding flash, it all disintegrated.
They were back in the room with the computer. Bishop
noticed Anne was still holding the control. He took off
the headband and studied it, amazed.
‘What just happened?’
‘I think, if I am interpreting things correctly, this
machine fed the whole situation into our heads,
transmitted it to our brains. Those headbands must act as
receivers. It’s some form of mind-bending machine. The
hotel room we stayed in, the deserted town, the zombies,
it was all created by the computer. Only we saw it in our
heads, we felt it; we lived it and suffered through it. But
we were never in any town; we were here all the time,
30
lying on our bed-tables, connected to this system.’
‘Created by the computer?’
‘This is a problem. I can read things but, it’s like trying
to explain the first steam engine to the American Indians.
I know what I’m reading but the meaning is unclear to
me.’
‘Hang about, this is the 1970s, we’re not ignorant.’
Anne shook her head. ‘No, but… How can I explain?
Okay. The word matrix, for example. I know the word
and it’s an accurate translation, but in this context, I’m
confused. Have you ever heard of a computer matrix?
We’ve seen what the machine does, that’s all we know
for certain.’
Bishop held up the headband and looked at the green
eye. ‘Games and theory?’
‘What’s that?’ Anne asked.
‘It’s a term used in military intelligence,’ Bishop
replied, thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps this is like a war game, a
test. It’s like… Someone put us through that whole
experience, to test us. Try us out. See how far we’d go for
each other, see if I’d die for you, and see if we were good
in a fight.’
‘A war game?’ Anne stared at him, looking stunned.
‘A test? You mean a test of human nature?’
Bishop stared at the images on the screen as it replayed
the nightmare he had suffered in the town. Angrily, he
lifted his table off the floor and raised it like a battering
ram. ‘Stand back, Anne! This experiment is officially at
an end. Whoever is behind all this isn’t getting any
31
intelligence about us!’
A door panel slid open nearby and a tall, scaly alien
walked into the room and raised a gun-like device at them.
Anne saw the burning red eyes of the creature and cried,
‘Bill, look out!’
‘Stop!’ The alien spoke in a snake-like hiss.
Bishop regarded the creature. So, not a zombie, but
obviously the mastermind behind the crazy test. Weapon
aimed at him or not, he wasn’t letting the test carry on.
He hurled the table into the huge round screen. It shattered
and splintered apart. The alien aimed the gun at Bishop,
but Anne moved swiftly, grabbed him and Bishop jumped
to one side. The alien’s weapon fired and a searing beam
of light just missed Bishop’s head, blasting a hole in the
wall.
Bishop ran to help Anne wrestle with the alien. A
second alien appeared from the doorway. It raised a
weapon and Bishop pushed the first alien towards the
second. The beam hit the alien and killed it instantly.
Bishop snatched the dead alien’s weapon and rolled
to one side, just narrowly dodging another blast.
‘Wait!’ Anne shouted.
Surprised by Anne’s sudden command, both Bishop
and the alien stopped.
‘Why are you testing us? Why are you doing this?’
The alien considered Anne. Its expression was hard to
read, but if Bishop were to guess he’d have said the
creature was weighing up its response. It nodded sharply.
Decided. ‘We are the Iztal. The Iztal are masters of the
32
Eastern Spiral. Our way is the only way. Our way cannot
be compromised. Our way allows no other way. When
we establish our presence here, Sol 3 will change forever.
Humans will learn to follow our way. The way is
everything to the Iztal. It shall be everything to humanity
too.’
‘But that’s slavery,’ Anne protested. ‘You plan to
impose this way, as you call it, upon us? Our lives won’t
be worth living. You’ll rob our existence of all meaning.’
‘We shall impose the way.’ The Iztal creature hissed
at her. ‘Once we have informed our main planet of
humanity’s weaknesses, the invasion shall begin.’
‘Some other time, Charlie!’ Bishop raised the alien
weapon and blasted the creature down.
Anne looked down at the alien. ‘There has to be
another way,’ she said.
Bishop joined her. ‘You heard him. I don’t think these
Iztal will give us any other choice.’
Anne sighed. ‘Why do they always want to attack?
Over a year now; how many friendly aliens have we
encountered?’
‘Not many.’ Bishop shrugged and redirected the
weapon at the alien computer and blasted it. The machine
exploded apart in a shower of fiery fragments and smoke
filled the room.
Movement behind them.
Bishop turned as two more of the reptilian Iztal stalked
into the room. He blasted both of them in the chest and
they toppled to the floor. He fired another blast into the
33
shattered screen and it burst apart. Soon flaming
fragments set fire to the room and smoke clouds began to
rise around them. Bishop and Anne started to cough and
choke as the smoke in the air thickened rapidly.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here!’ He blasted the door
and it fell open. Grabbing Anne by the hand, he led her
out of the burning room as it began to turn into a
fully-fledged inferno. They ran into a long dark corridor.
There was no time for looking back, so they hurried down
the dimly lit passage. They could hear rumbling and
cracking sounds behind them.
Finally, they reached an exit door, which was made
of heavy iron and sealed with a heavy chain and padlock.
At least this meant they were still on Earth.
He raised the alien weapon and aimed a blast at the
padlock and chain. Smoke was billowing up the
passageway behind them now. Taking care not to scorch
his hand, Bishop grabbed the heavy iron door and heaved
it open.
Daylight streamed in. Bishop and Anne squinted into
the glare, then hurried outside, relieved to get out into the
open air.
They turned to look back and see where they had
escaped from. They had been inside an old, broken down
building in the middle of the sandy Australian desert. It
was a kind of disused farming shed, probably for handling
livestock sometime in the past.
They looked back at the old building as it slowly went
up in flames. One of the alien warriors staggered out of
34
the door, its body engulfed in flames, let out a shrieking
cry and collapsed dead on the red sand.
‘Do you think there are more of them?’ Anne
wondered.
‘Possibly, although my guess is this was just a
scouting party, based on what it told us.’
Anne let out a breath of air, and looked around them.
‘But where are we?’
‘I think we’re a few miles outside Alice Springs.’
Bishop glanced down at Anne with a smile. ‘I studied the
maps well en route to Australia. Always good to be
prepared. Now, we need to see if we can find the main
road and get a lift back to town.’
Anne stared at the burning, crumbling old building for
a few lingering moments. ‘It’s just unbelievable. The
town, the hotel, those horrid zombie creatures, none of it
was real. We were inside that place, lying in there, like a
pair of fish on a slab, all along.’
Bishop sighed. ‘I know what you mean. It’s going to
take a while before it fully sinks in. But we better get
going, now.’
‘Yes, I expect we’d better.’
They hurried away together.

Sometime later, the pair were safely back with Brigadier


Lethbridge-Stewart and the other members of the Fifth,
awaiting their trip back to the air field. The unflappable
Lethbridge-Stewart had listened patiently to their wild
story and now stood over their seats, smiling wryly, a cup
35
of coffee in hand.
‘Fascinating.’
‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’ Anne asked. She
sounded ready to explode, but Lethbridge-Stewart
remained infuriatingly calm.
‘Well, it seems to me that you were kidnapped and
had some form of nightmare out there.’
‘It was rather more than a nightmare, sir,’ Bishop said.
‘Are you certain these… Iztal creatures were genuine
extra-terrestrials? Not foreign agents in some form of
disguise perhaps? Have to be sure of our facts, you
understand.’
‘They were real enough,’ Anne told him. ‘I think I’ve
met enough aliens to know the difference by now.’
‘Well, if they try again, I’m sure your reports will be
very useful.’ Lethbridge-Stewart smiled. ‘Cheer up! We’ll
soon be off home to the United Kingdom. Then we can
put all this unpleasantness behind us.’
As Lethbridge-Stewart turned on his heel and walked
away, cheerfully sipping his coffee, Bishop turned to look
at Anne’s simmering expression.
There was fire in her eyes, but he had to admit he
rather admired it. ‘Don’t let it upset you, he’s nobody’s
fool. He’ll run checks, verify what we’ve told him. You
know that.’
‘Oh, I know. It’s just been such an ordeal.’
‘It’s over now.’
Anne suddenly looked directly at him. Her eyes
smiled. ‘Once we’re back in Edinburgh, take me out for
36
a drink.’
‘Yes, ma’am!’ Bishop gave her a little half salute.
‘Somewhere nice.’
‘Nice? Oh, the zombies and aliens weren’t good
enough, eh?’
He was pleased to finally hear her laugh again.
‘No, that was not my idea of a date. Not even close.’
Bishop nodded, finally feeling better within himself.
‘Not to worry, by the time we get home, I’m sure I’ll think
of something a little bit more to your liking.’

37
38
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