bite the head off a dog.
It was, quite simply, the smile of death.
Gwen held her ground, kept the pistol aimed levelly. She held it in a two-handed grip, sighting down the barrel until she was sure the next shot would go straight through the water hag’s forehead.
‘Don’t be frightened,’ Saskia said. Her voice was low, rippling, as if she was speaking underwater. Her once blonde hair now hung like seaweed around her head.
‘I’m not frightened,’ Gwen said. She hoped she sounded more convinced about that than she felt. Now that she was closer, Gwen could see that the water hag’s skin was full of mud and moss and crawling with tiny worms and insects. The dark yellow eyes never left hers.
‘Of course you are. But you can relax. I’m not going to kill you. I need you alive.’
Somehow that sounded far worse than a simple threat to kill her. Gwen couldn’t feel her fingers any longer, and the gun was slipping in her grip as her hands perspired. She could feel her heart beating so hard that her pulse had to be visible in her neck.
The other water hags were much closer now. Gwen could smell them all around her, the stench of something wet and rotting. She couldn’t kill all of them. Even if she shot Saskia, how would she get the others? They’d rip her throat out before she could do anything.
‘W-what are you, really? Where are you from?’
‘Here and there. A world a long way from here, originally.’
Keep her talking. ‘What was it called?’
‘Strepto. Not that it matters much. It’s disappeared, vanished. I was away, travelling. When I went home it was gone. So I came here on my own, the last survivor.’
‘On your own?’
‘At first. Not any more.’
‘What d’you want?’ Gwen was gripping the automatic ever more tightly, keeping the heavy gun — it was so heavy — trained on Saskia’s forehead.
‘We need to get in there,’ Saskia replied, pointing down at the ground.
The Hub. Where Jack and the others all lay dying.
Saskia took another step closer. The muzzle of Gwen’s gun was no more than thirty centimetres from her head now. ‘My turn to ask the questions now. What’s your name?’
‘Gwen.’
‘You’re going to take me in there, Gwen. I’m not interested in you or your friends, but I need what you’ve got down there.’
‘You won’t get it.’
‘I think I will. With your help.’
‘I’ll shoot you dead and take my chances. You’re not getting into the Hub.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
Gwen gripped the pistol tighter. ‘Try me.’
‘Pulling that trigger will be the last thing you ever do, Gwen.’
Gwen’s mouth felt so dry she could hardly speak. ‘And watching me do it will be the last thing you ever do.’
Saskia took another step closer.
‘I’m warning you!’ Gwen shouted.
Saskia smiled.
This was it, Gwen realised. The final act of her life. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt in her chest, hurt deep inside her stomach. She felt like she wanted to just stop and cry, but she knew that she couldn’t. This was the final act. She thought of Tosh, clever and gentle Tosh, and the talk they’d had in the motorway services, of Professor Len, and Rhys. Tears were running down her face and she knew she was incapable of speaking now. There was only one thing left to do. She said a silent, choking goodbye to Rhys and pulled the trigger.
TWENTY-SIX
Click.
For a long, long moment, nobody moved. There was complete silence. Gwen was faintly aware of the water in the bay, and then the feel of the wind on her face, and the sad, condescending smile on Saskia’s hideous face.
‘Whoops,’ she said gently. ‘Gun empty. Never mind.’
And, in a flash, the water hag’s long arm shot out, and the hooked talons on the end of her fingers raked the pistol out of Gwen’s hands. The gun spun through the air, away into the darkness, to land with a distant, irrelevant clatter.
Gwen looked with incomprehension at her hands. Saskia’s claws had ripped the underside of her left hand wide open and blood was pouring down her wrists, dripping onto the pavement at her feet in big red blotches.
Then her legs gave way, knees dropping, and she fell with a dry croak to the floor.
Only to be picked up by Saskia again and dangled in the air. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘It’s not time for you to go yet, Gwen. You’re my key to the Rift …’ She raised Gwen a little higher and then dipped her head so that she could lick the blood from her hand with her long, black tongue. ‘Mmm. Yummy humans.’
‘Bitch,’ said Gwen.
‘You know, I have to say I’m a little disappointed. I’d heard it said that Earth was defended.’ Saskia gave a light chuckle. ‘Is this really all you’ve got?’
‘Not quite,’ said a voice from behind her.
Saskia twisted her head at an unnatural angle to see who had spoken. Gwen could just see the figure stepping out of the shadows by the wharf. The lights from the bay cast a soft halo around the outline of a tall man in a long coat.
‘There’s always me,’ said Jack. He raised his arm and aimed his revolver at the water hag. The other aliens turned and hissed like frightened cats, but Saskia seemed unmoved.
‘Captain Harkness,’ she purred. ‘How nice to see you again. And looking so well.’
‘Touch of flu,’ Jack said. ‘Over it now.’
Saskia frowned. ‘No unexpected arrivals? No pitter-patter of tiny feet?’
‘Oh, yeah, there was that.’ Jack pulled a face and then lifted his leg, holding up his foot so that Saskia could see the bottom of his boot. There were lumps of blood and flesh jammed into the rugged treads. ‘Had to put my foot down, though.’
Saskia glared fiercely at the remains but said nothing.
‘I missed you in the park,’ Jack continued, narrowing his eyes as he took careful aim. ‘But I won’t miss now.’
Saskia swung Gwen around until she was dangling in front of her, protecting her. ‘Want to bet?’
‘Human shield, huh?’ Jack tutted. ‘You guys never learn.’
And then he pulled the trigger.
Gwen felt the heat of the bullet as it passed her face. Her skin was scorched, but she only became aware of the pain after she’d heard the heavy thud of the round hitting Saskia. The water hag was knocked backwards, but she kept her grip on Gwen’s throat and brought her down on top of her. Gwen landed awkwardly, unable to break her fall, but satisfied in that all of her weight had come down on the water hag’s chest. There was a gust of cold, fetid air as the breath was knocked out of her. Gwen twisted, struggling, but Saskia maintained her grip, the stick- like fingers closing tighter around her neck, threatening to suffocate her. Gwen’s struggles grew more panicky as she realised that she really couldn’t breathe; and she was more frightened by that than the green ichor spurting all over her from the wound in Saskia’s neck.
Then someone grabbed her by the scruff, wrenched her aside so violently that Saskia almost ripped her head off, and jammed an old service revolver into the water hag’s face.
‘Did I mention what a good shot I am?’ asked Jack. His finger squeezed the trigger, but the shot, at point-
