FIC: Doctor Who: Restless 3/??

[zouzounaki]

Title: Restless
Author: ghanistarkiller (Mrs Peel on A Teaspoon and an Open Mind Fanfic Archive)
Summary: The Doctor, Jack and Rose arrive in an eerily abandoned city only to find that the real puzzle lies within the walls of a drastically fenced in settlement. Just exactly what is the mysterious "illness?" What happened to make the citizens so frightened of being outside the fence after dark? And just what -or who- is dying to get in there?
Rating: R
Genre(s): Horror, Mystery
Characters: The Doctor (9th), Jack Harkness, Rose Tyler
Warnings: Mixed (mostly gen/het), Swearing, Violence


The Mask of those who call themselves
the good guys in this,
who take and take.
"So are you with me
or not," you say,
"this time decide"
-Tori Amos

3.

“Doctor,” Jack said urgently, placing his hand on the shoulder of other man’s tattered leather jacket and pointing off across the expanse of the plaza, down one of the large metropolitan lanes where the shambling monsters seemed to be gathering. “Look, there’s something happening!”

Rose joined them again them, squinting to see in the darkness. “Over there too!” she pointed down a separate avenue. “It’s the patrol, it must be! And it looks as if they’re in trouble!” She glanced anxiously, biting the corner of her lip, along the edges of the fence.

The gateways remained tightly closed, no personnel in sight. She looked back at what she could now make out to be five small cars -two along one street, three along the other- low to the ground, with exposed framework in the front, presumably outfitted specifically for each of the vehicles’ own unique purpose. The tiny figures within, barely discernable in the gloom, repelling the desperate grasp of the walking corpses, fending them off, barely keeping them at bay, with the butts of their weapons. Rose pursed her lips, the gates were still not manned. “Where is everyone?” she asked. “Where are the regulators to let them in?”

“You heard Fuchsia,” Jack was moving determinedly now, scanning the wall as he weighed each option for course of action, “the regs are nothing but bureaucrats with pop guns.” He spotted a loose bit of chain that had once been attached to some sort of now rusted away pulley system, wrapped it about his fist and used it to propel himself towards the closest entranceway. “Ah, shit!” he barked, surveying the release device, spotting that it took two to operate. “Fucker!” he thumped one of the levers in frustration.

“I’m here!” he heard Rose’s voice say unexpectedly, spinning to see her puffing a bit as she ran to assist him. He could see the Doctor making his own way to another gate’s operation mechanism, saluting him with a nod of his head, trusting the Time Lord would work something out on his own. “What do I do?” she asked gamely. “Show me.”

“Up here,” he told her, pulling her up to the elevated tread he was on. It was safest for her to work that apparatus as the other one was ground level and if anything, or anybody not meant to, came through accidentally, he wanted Rose out of the line of fire. “You’ll have to wait until the last minute,” he instructed, “no matter what you hear. We don’t want to be letting any of those... things in, do we? When I tell you, right?” She nodded. “Good girl.”

He found that, on ground level, the reinforced wire mesh was so dense, so secure, he could no longer see out. Fuck, that’d be a problem. Searching about him hectically, he noticed an aperture beside the access port and, grabbing hold of the knob at the left side of the embrasure’s sliding door and pulling, he found, to his alleviation, he could espy the square clearly.

Beneath the slot, there was an outmoded receiver, resting just beside the second mechanism; it was picking up the radio chatter from the patrol cars. Jack put his ear to it as he prepped the motorized switch for utilization. “Patriot, come in,” the familiar accented voice of the man they’d run into earlier said through the speaker, “this is Valentine, we’ve lost Bad Wolf, do you copy?”

“Patriot here,” a second male voice, harder, colder than the first, said, “copy that, Valentine. We’ll have time to grieve later. I’ve got Scarecrow, Princess and Bottle Rocket with me. Report?”

“Pretty Baby, Wizard, Starchild, Hellblazer and Red Right Hand are all go,” answered the first, Valentine. “Fallen Angel is down. I repeat, Fallen Angel is down. Who do we have on gates, Patriot? Repeat, who is on gates?”

“I-” Patriot hesitated. “Gates are undermanned, Valentine. I put Clocker and Kraken on the west gate.”

“They’re not answering,” a female voice interjected uneasily. “Pretty Baby to Patriot, the gates aren’t moving and the assigned pats aren’t responding to hails!”

Jack grabbed the handheld transmitter and, depressing the button on the side of the triangular box, spoke into it, “Valentine, Patriot, copy. This is…” He looked to Rose for some sort of prompt. She only shrugged and urged him to keep the interaction going. “Flyboy, I’m operating the…” He cast his eyes about, noticing the sign just above where the fence slid open. “The Southeast gate, and my friend, Time Lord, is on the Eastern gate. You’re coming in fast and hard right at us. We’ll be ready for you.”

“Flyboy, I’ve no idea who you are,” Valentine said gratefully, the relief in his words audible, “but I am certainly glad to hear you! We’re swamped in uglies, they took down doom buggy four and her crew. Get ready for a bumpy landing!”

“Just how I like it,” Jack grinned.

The groaning from the lumbering zombies became more insistent as they started to circle the gates as if they could sense through expectation what was coming. One threw itself at the electrified fence in its impatience, filling the night air with the pungent reek of cooked, rancid flesh and a whiff of smoke. Rose grunted, disgusted, as it got right back up again, half of its body now cooked to its skeleton.

The fresher they were, the more nimble they moved, some even breaking into a run to meet the cars as they approached. “Doctor…” Jack said uncertainly, hoping the Time Lord could hear him over the receiver.

“Taken care of,” the Doctor responded, a bit harried but, in spite of everything, keeping his calm. “I’ve got two of them in my sight now.” After a moment of silence, he amended, “One.” Jack could hear the sonic screwdriver hard at work through the transmission static.

“Better for more than just putting up shelves. Man, I gotta get myself one of those one of these days,” he mumbled to himself, bracing his hands on the lever. “Rose, get ready,” he warned and she nodded her blonde head. They were getting closer and closer, and the restless dead more and more lively. “Now!” he ordered and both he and Rose both struggled with the stubborn machinery, tugging frantically at the handles, rewarded with the sound of the metal creaking as the outer gate opened. “First barrier breached,” announced Jack. The cars were now speeding towards them. “Keep at it, Rose! We’re nearly there!”

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” she quipped, trying to alleviate the tense moment, “I just never imagined it’d be in these circumstances!” She smiled uncomfortably, giving him an disquieted chuckle as he braked back a boisterous guffaw. He gave her the thumbs up.

Timing was everything and the Doctor was taking a great risk in completely releasing the secondary lock before the cars were nearly halfway across the concrete court. Arms reached in the partial gap clutching, grasping, the electric shocks a mere deterrent when the scent of juicy living flesh was in the air, though it did succeed in thinning their numbers. The creatures’ bloodshot eyes were incandescent in the darkness as they snarled and snapped with lipless mouths. Two opportune shotgun rounds broke the crowded ranks swelling about the gate, the head of a decomposing man exploding in a mess of red gore and brain matter very nearby the Doctor.

And the car was there, breaking through the mob, firearms going off while any of the monsters that dared get close enough to the vehicle were rewarded with a bash in the head with the butt of a rifle. The Doctor hollered as he released the last lock just in time for the car to come careening in wildly, skidding to a halt. It’s occupants quickly joined the Doctor in fighting off the ravenous masses as he attempted to seal the entrance again.

“Hello,” the Doctor managed to address the patrol’s unmistakable leader in the struggle, a broad-shouldered yet lissome young man with tight bleached curls over dark roots. He wore a duster with the ensign of the colonies sewn onto its back, sleeves and tails and a t-shirt with the slogan ‘Dead Head’ accompanied by a vulgarly explicit image. “I’m the Doctor, pleased to meet you.”

“Tommy,” the boy introduced himself. “Call sign Patriot.” He turned to fire another round into the zombie horde, splattering himself in bloodied, stinking entrails in the process. “I’d shake your hand but…” he shrugged an apology. “Oi! Bottle Rocket!” he called and another youth joined him, the two of them managing to fasten the motorized gate bolts.

“Now, Rose, now!” Jack shouted as the two cars came racing directly at them. He watched in horror as the second car, lagging a bit, hit a skid and overturned, its driver and two others spilling onto the hard surface. “Rose…” he called.

“I’ve got it!” she grunted, putting her entire weight into turning the gate mechanism, bracing her foot against the solid metal rail. It came loose at last in her determined grip and not a moment too soon. The car sped in, scraping the sides of the fence with a harsh metallic squeal as it just barely fit through the opening they had produced. “Jack, we have to close…”

He placed his hands firmly on the switch, ready to slam the gate shut. He hesitated, watching as the unlucky inhabitants of the second car fought off the rapacious pack of walking dead. The woman had climbed atop the car’s frame, firing rapidly into the multitude whilst her compatriots attempted to hold their ground. He heard voices urging him to get on with it but they became nothing but background prattle as the scream of one unlucky patrolman reached his ears. The zombies had captured him and now commenced in ripping him apart alive, his anguished shrieks echoing across plaza as an arm came off, the tendons and meat snapping away in thick ropes of gore.

“Gun!” Jack demanded and the man he recognized as Valentine stood, tossing him his automatic rifle. Dammit but the Doctor was going to make an honest man of Jack Harkness after all, he thought as he clenched his teeth. Before he had time to reflect on what he was doing, he’d charged out into the square, gun blazing.

Valentine was beside him, removing flares from a pocket in the lining of his coat and, pounded them against his thigh, igniting them as he sent them skidding across the ground. The wights staggered away, awkwardly raising their arms to shield their face from the light where the thin tubes sprouting sparks came to rest. “Light,” Valentine told him, “they can’t stand it.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that idea,” responded Jack, the two of them, Valentine and he, back to back, moving almost as a practiced unit. It was instinctive and it brought back the good old days. Well, what he could remember of them, anyway. “Anything else I should know?”

“They’re cannibalistic to their own kind,” Valentine explained. “You take one down in a crowd and it‘ll distract them while they feed. Unless, of course, they’re determined for fresh meat…”

Jack raised his gun and aimed it at the leader of an advancing pack of the fiends, pulling the trigger and watching as his target’s head exploded like a ripened melon, the others stopping to struggle over the remains. “Good to know,” he nodded.

They reached the wreckage of the car and Jack covered the man on the ground while Valentine came to the assistance of the girl. A man lurched forward, his bony fingers grasping at the woman, sinking his teeth into her calf. She cried out, kicking at him as Valentine drew a flare gun and thrust it into the creature’s chest cavity, the barrel sinking easily into the putrefied flesh just between its ribcage.

He fired and the man reeled backwards, for a moment lit up like a macabre jack o’lantern, sanguine light spilling from his mouth and near empty eye sockets. His limbs began to glow from within and he shook as the scintillating fire discharged from the cartridge. The zombie exploded, barraging them all in mouldered, bloody carnage. The other zombies descended upon the carcass, clutching and tearing at what they could get a hold of.

“Don’t,” Rose screamed as one of the patrolmen panicked and attempted to secure the ground level lock, “don’t you dare! That’s my friend out there! Those are your friends!”

“They’re dead already,” insisted the terrified combatant, his laughter high and wild as he shook his head madly. “They’re dead!”

“They’re people! You can’t just leave ‘em!” she was resolute. “I won’t let you!” Moving as quickly as she could, she removed her trainers, pulling at the heels with her toes until they came loose. The first she wedged between the sliding panel of the gate and its frame, the second, inside the secondary bolting apparatus.

Grabbing as many weapons as they could carry they made their way back towards the gate, squeezing through the small gap remaining in the gate. Once inside, Rose secured the entry with the help of one of the more composed patrolmen.

“You all right?” Valentine was inquiring of each of his teammates, checking for injury. “Jess, you okay?” he asked the young woman, who was bent over, hands resting on knees as she struggled to catch her breath, the sweaty strands of her dark blonde bob clinging to her face, the corners of her mouth.

“Pants caught most of it. Won’t be that bad after the sterilization, Paj,” she replied, examining the flap in the leg of her khakis the zombie’s bite had made and the mild flesh wound within. “Would have been a lot worse if it wasn’t for you,” she straightened and grinned crookedly at Jack. “You were something out there, Flyboy,” she shook his hand. “You’re not military, that’s for sure. And you,” Rose was surprised to receive a hug from the woman, “thanks to the both of you for not ditching us, yeah?”

“We need to regroup, team!” Tommy called loudly, thumping his hands together as he joined them. The Doctor sharply discerned a furtive knowing and wary glance that was exchanged between Valentine and Jess. “Listen,” he confided, as if he could sense -or was aware of- their dissent, “I mucked up, yeah? Putting Uly and Kris on gate duty, it was a mistake, I admit it, but I needed all my good runners for the incursion. You know this was a big one.” Valentine conceded with a nod, even if doubts still lingered.

Rose threw her arms around Jack’s neck, giving him a celebratory kiss upon each cheek, “You were brilliant!” she laughed. They both turned to the Doctor, Jack spreading his arms slyly, inviting an embrace.

“Come on, give us some sugar here!” grinned Jack and the Doctor smiled as he united with them and their hands met in a triple-sided high five. Rose shouted in triumph as the Doctor put his arm about her shoulders and hugging her close even as he gave Jack a big, enthusiastic smacker on the cheek. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“You Flyboy?” Tommy nodded towards Jack.

“Yeah,” Jack shrugged, “that’s me. Captain Jack Harkness, at your… willing service,” he cocked an eyebrow as he surveyed the man’s striking physique and almost pretty, chiseled features.

Tommy sauntered forward, reaching out and clipping the ident badge pinned to Jack’s t-shirt between his middle and forefingers. “Says here,” he smirked roguishly, “that you’re Clark Kent.”

Jack scoffed good-naturedly, “And badges never lie.” Tommy laughed openly at that, clapping Jack on the shoulder.

“Ooh,” Rose said teasingly, “he already thinks he’s Superman. No need to feed the delusions!”

“Well, Captain Jack Harkness,” smiled Tommy mischievously, “ever considered enlisting?”

“Does he have a choice?” the Doctor inquired darkly.


Peace, Ghani