Prayers to Broken Stone ((The Meddler VI/Allison Castiel))

[Allison Castiel]

Allison stood quietly as Rob examined the wasp-monster. They'd come quite a long distance down the tunnel and it had been tough going in places. There had been a couple of fresh cave-ins since she'd last travelled this way – nothing that blocked their path fully, but enough to make things more difficult, especially with Rob missing a shoe. Not that he complained at all. Allie wasn't sure he even gave it a thought, although some of the jagged stones had to hurt his bare foot.

The tunnel itself was still as creepy as ever. Beyond the bobbing circles of light provided by their lanterns, the darkness seemed to press in on them, crowding around them in a tangle of shadows. Back during the war, they'd dynamited the end of the tunnel, trying to keep the monsters out. Without any ventilation, the air was close and smelt bad, like a thick musty blanket.

What Allie hadn't told Rob was that she'd been there that day, when the wasp-monster had dug its way in from the surface. Not fighting. Back then, she hadn't been capable of that. All she would have done would be to get in the way. But every able-bodied human had been called upon to help maintain their defences, and she'd been part of a carrying party, bringing ammunition and supplies through the tunnels from the settlement to the front lines. When she closed her eyes, she could still hear the screams of the people who had died. Standing here where it had all happened, she couldn't decide whether the ghostly sounds were in her head, or if they were still faintly audible, like an echo imprinted on the stagnant air.

"Well," Rob observed, "that's not something you'd want to come up on all unexpected in the dark."

She kept her eyes averted, not wanting to look at the wasp-thing. She'd seen too many of them in her time to want to revisit what they looked like at close quarters.

“This is just one,” she reminded him in a cracked voice. “They came in swarms, thousands of them...”

"Bloody jingle bell," he swore, walking around the corpse to examine it from different angles. "How does the bastard thing breathe? Could it fly?" He peered at the wings. "No bloody way it could fly, but I bet it did anyway. Just to get up the nose of entomologists."

She nodded. “You could hear them coming... this... dull roar in the distance. Thousands of metal wings, beating at the air in unison. I went on holiday to America, once, and I visited Niagara Falls. And that's what the sound was like. Only, it was spread out, across the sky.”

There was a dull banging sound as he rapped his knuckles against the mutant's thorax, a sound of flesh and bone on metal. "Well, I guess that makes sense," he mumbled. "Have to be metal. Chitin'd snap under the weight."

He seemed to be talking to himself now, more than to her, so she didn't reply. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Again he reminded her of the Doctor. That's what he'd done too – talked out loud as he thought, putting the pieces of a puzzle together one by one. She'd quickly learned that it was better not to interrupt, because he'd said it disturbed his concentration.

Stooping, [Rob] picked up a stone and tried to scratch the mutant's carapace. Nothing. Not a mark. "Shouldn't have given back aggro-boy's knife," he muttered. "Be nice to see if this thing's harder'n steel." He glanced back at Allison. "I'm guessin' it is, though. If we was reduced to chemical warfare to kill them, then they'd have to be hard enough to shrug off most conventional weapons."

"They tried everything,” Allie replied dully. “Artillery, bombs, tanks... even some nuclear strikes in China. Nothing stopped them. Their exo-skeletons were practically invulnerable. And when they did manage to kill some of them, there were always others to take their place. That's when the scientists started work on the GK-50. They took bio-samples from some of the dead wasp-monsters and discovered that they were mutated Glyptapanteles. They took an old pesticide that had once been used to protect crops from the same wasp, and they ramped it up to the nth degree. And it worked... it destroyed the Glyptapanteles. Little by little, they all became affected, and they just... dropped dead. It seemed like a miracle.” She gave a deep sigh. “Until we realised that in the process, the GK-50 had wiped out every other form of insect life on the planet as well, and our entire eco-system into the bargain.”

Crouching now, he looked at the underside of the bronze-colored monster. "Conductive, though. Pity you lot didn't know about the electricity thing sooner. Coulda set traps for them, that way. Still, desperate times and all." Stretching as he rose, he turned to look at Allison once more. “You always believed your Doctor would come back one day, you said. And that he'd somehow make all this better again."

She tilted her small chin, almost expecting him to make fun of her. Even Danny didn't believe her about the Doctor. He thought it was a fairy story, some kind of coping mechanism for her, a way for her to keep herself going when all other hope was lost.

“I know it sounds silly, when the human race is on the very edge of extinction,” she said steadily. “But yes, I do believe that.”

His crooked grin flashed as he leaned back against the metal monster, arms spread wide and resting on the cool bronze surface. "Tell me where these things came from." The crooked grin grew wider. "Cause I've got the dim beginnings of a plan."

Her eyes widened. Despite all the signs that Rob was extraordinary, she'd unconsciously been bracing herself to hear him say that there was nothing to be done. That day-to-day survival like rats in a hole was the best they could ever expect. And really, as Danny would be quick to point out, that was the only sane assessment of the situation. After all, what's done was done. There was no turning back time. The environment couldn't be mended, the cities couldn't be restored. The Earth was dying and, slowly, so were her people.

But somehow, looking at Rob's impish grin, Allie felt something stir inside her that she had thought long dead. Hope. Belief that maybe things could turn out all right in the end after all. And faith that Puck, that meddlesome catalyst, would be the one to make it happen.

“'And Robin shall restore amends',” she whispered to herself, recalling the words she had spoken back when he'd first told them his name. She swallowed hard, her heart beginning to beat faster in excitement. “The Amazon jungle,” she told him. “That's where it's said they first mutated. But no-one knows how or why. Although...” She paused a little, unsure whether to mention it or not. In the end, she decided he needed to know. “There were a lot of rumours at the time... that when they were developing the GK-50, the scientists discovered some form of alien DNA in their bio-samples.”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

She gave a deep sigh. “Until we realised that in the process, the GK-50 had wiped out every other form of insect life on the planet as well, and our entire eco-system into the bargain.”

"They shrugged off atomics?" Rob lifted an eyebrow at that. "Bleedin' hell, Ally - you don't mind that, do you? No wonder you lot lost your collective top ten. This was a bit 'we had to destroy the village to save it', though, wasn't it?"

Crouching now, he looked at the underside of the bronze-colored monster. "Conductive, though. Pity you lot didn't know about the electricity thing sooner. Coulda set traps for them, that way. Still, desperate times and all." Stretching as he rose, he turned to look at Allison once more. “You always believed your Doctor would come back one day, you said. And that he'd somehow make all this better again."

Allison's body language grew defensive, and she chewed her lip as she answered. “I know it sounds silly, when the human race is on the very edge of extinction,” she said steadily. “But yes, I do believe that.”

"Nah." He waved his hand dismissively as he leaned back against the metal monster, arms spread wide and resting on the cool bronze surface. "Gotta have hope. That's what keeps a body going, day to day. Hope for tomorrow, even when hope looks dead. Tell me where these things came from." The crooked grin grew wider as he switched gears without a pause. "Cause I've got the dim beginnings of a plan."

He'd caught her off guard with that. She looked startled, but that startled expression slowly changed as his words sank in. “'And Robin shall restore amends',” she whispered to herself. As he waited, the faint light of hope seemed to flare up - her posture relaxed a little and her voice became more animated. “The Amazon jungle,” she told him. “That's where it's said they first mutated. But no-one knows how or why. Although...”

"Lotta weird in the Amazon, yeah," Rob observed, nodding. "Go on."

She hesitated. “There were a lot of rumours at the time... that when they were developing the GK-50, the scientists discovered some form of alien DNA in their bio-samples.”

"Alien?" He rubbed his lip with finger and thumb, thinking, then knocked on the wasp-monster's exoskeleton. "Yeah, that makes sense. Well, as much sense as any of this makes. How long's it been?" With a sudden burst of energy he shoved himself up off the wasp and headed for the exit from the tunnel. "I need more," he announced. "Dates and places, to start with. Chiswick Library, I think. Assuming you people didn't burn it down for fuel. And we may need to head over to London Towne itself, and the British Museum."

A quick glance back over his shoulder as he walked. "Maybe out to Surrey - I feel like I remember there being some useful material at the University of Surrey. And step lively, Ally. Sed fugit interea, fugit inreparabile tempus, and all that."

[Allison Castiel]

Why did all Time Lords have such long legs? Allison couldn't help wondering, in mingled perplexity and exasperation, as she trotted along behind Rob, back the way they'd come. Not to mention such boundless energy. It certainly made it difficult for the smaller companion to keep up. She didn't really mind, though. Rob's enthusiasm and sense of purpose was like a tidal wave that swept her along with it. Or perhaps like a fire, she thought, that lit her from the inside. He seemed to breathe life into everything he touched. And in a world that was already effectively dead, that was a welcome gift indeed.

It was odd how quickly she'd come to accept that he was a Time Lord – if not the Doctor himself, then another of his kind. All the clues added up and no other explanation made any sense. The mad leading the mad, Danny would call it. He'd say that Rob was delusional and that she was a fool to put any trust in him. But she didn't think so. To her, believing in Rob was akin to believing in the Doctor, and it was the sanest thing she'd done in a very long time.

“How long's it been?” she echoed his question breathlessly as she hurried along. “Since the first reported mutation, you mean?”

She cast her mind back, trying to recall the exact sequence of events. Such a short time, really, in relative terms – and yet, with all that had happened, it seemed like a lifetime.

“It was back at the beginning of 2013,” she said. “I remember, it was just after Christmas. It was all over the news. The Glyptapanteles attacked a village in Brazil.  That was the first time I'd ever heard of them.”

"I need more," he announced. "Dates and places, to start with. Chiswick Library, I think. Assuming you people didn't burn it down for fuel. And we may need to head over to London Towne itself, and the British Museum."

A quick glance back over his shoulder as he walked. "Maybe out to Surrey - I feel like I remember there being some useful material at the University of Surrey. And step lively, Ally. Sed fugit interea, fugit inreparabile tempus, and all that."

She couldn't help laughing at that, especially in view of her earlier thoughts, the clean, fresh amusement bubbling up inside her. “I am stepping lively, Rob. My legs aren't as long as yours. As for libraries, there used to be one not far from here, just off the High Street. I have no idea how much of it is still intact though, or whether it will have what you're looking for.”

It wasn't easy to keep track of the time, down here in the tangle of catacomb-like tunnels, but she guessed it was probably only round about midnight, which meant there were still several hours until dawn.

“We can't go outside yet, though. Not until it gets light. The Creepers usually come out in the darkness and there could be Raiders or Los Niños around too,” she told him. “Besides, you need to eat. And maybe I can find you some new trousers and shoes somewhere. I'm a pretty good scavenger, you know, even if I do say so myself.”

The words had barely left her mouth, when there was a crunch ahead of them in the dark passageway - the distinctive sound of a heavy, booted footfall and a round being chambered in an L-85 assault rifle. A blindingly bright light shone in their eyes, causing Allie to put her arm up defensively against the glare.

“Well, well, well, out for a bit of an evening stroll, are we?” Zanniga's familiar voice sneered. “Shame I have to break up the party... but I've got a bone to pick with you, Goodfellow. An' after I'm done, chances are there won't be enough left of you to stroll anywhere.”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

Rob wove his way through the tunnels hardly paying attention to anything. Instead, thoughts chased themselves around his mind. Brazil. Christmas 2013. Alien DNA. Mutants. "Yeah," he said absently, "that might be the same library I'm thinking of. And if not? Well, it's still a library."

“We can't go outside yet, though," Allison informed him. "Not until it gets light."

"Eh?" The sound was barely a word as he glanced back. "Why not?"

"The Creepers usually come out in the darkness and there could be Raiders or Los Niños around too,” she told him.

"Creepers?" There was incredulity in his voice. "Bleeding jingle, Ally. The Americans must've made the GK-50!" He grinned at that, laughing. "Creepers. Raiders. Crazy Cannibal Kids. Mutant wasp monsters. Only the Yanks would turn the apocalypse into a bloody video game!"

“Besides, you need to eat. And maybe I can find you some new trousers and shoes somewhere. I'm a pretty good scavenger, you know, even if I do say so myself.”

"Shoes might be good, yeah," he answered, voice distracted. There was something on the edge of his perception, some strange feeling that danger was nearby. And then, just as he was about to dismiss it as darkness-induced paranoia, there was a clicking of metal on metal. And then light blazed out of the tunnel, blinding him as whatever it was that let him see in the dark retreated deep within him.

“Well, well, well, out for a bit of an evening stroll, are we?”

"Oh, lovely," Rob mumbled, sagging against the wall. "It's the bully-boy."

“Shame I have to break up the party... but I've got a bone to pick with you, Goodfellow. An' after I'm done, chances are there won't be enough left of you to stroll anywhere.”

This was a poor position to be in, he decided. Not much cover in the tunnel, not many places to go. Oh, and there was a lunatic with a rifle blocking their way. "Ally?" he whispered, "since I might be him... how would your Doctor have handled this?"

[Allison Castiel]

Blinded by the sudden light, Allie missed her footing and slipped to one knee in the crumbling passageway. Then, to her horror, she heard Zanniga's voice, and she caught her breath sharply, before levering herself back to her feet with her hands, scrambling upright to stand once more next to Rob. Her fists were clenched tightly by her sides.

"Oh, lovely," Rob mumbled, sagging against the wall. "It's the bully-boy."

“Shame I have to break up the party... but I've got a bone to pick with you, Goodfellow. An' after I'm done, chances are there won't be enough left of you to stroll anywhere.”

Allison knew enough of the ex-soldier's brutal, vindictive nature to realise that he wasn't messing around. He really intended to hurt Rob, maybe even kill him. Probably even kill them both, to avoid any inconvenient witnesses. Life was cheap in the new world. Two people could easily disappear without trace in the complex network of tunnels and very few questions would be asked. Jem would send out a search party, of course, and Danny would continue to look for Allie until there was absolutely no hope left. But if their bodies were never found, the truth of what Zanniga had done would never be proven.

"Ally?" [Rob] whispered, "since I might be him... how would your Doctor have handled this?"

Her soft lips tightened and her eyes sparkled defiantly. “First, he would say, '''Ello, I'm the Doctor!' in a very bright, friendly tone of voice,” she replied to Rob, picturing her friend in her mind, just as he had been the last time she saw him. Her voice was raised, just loud enough so that Zanniga could clearly hear what she was saying. “Then he'd say something really silly, like, 'Lovely night for an apocalypse, don't you think?' After that, he'd take my hand...” As she spoke, her small delicate hand stole into Rob's larger one, her fingers curling around his. “And he'd do something like this...”

In a flash, she brought up her other fist and unclenched it, flinging the contents – a handful of dust and scree she had scooped up from the ground when she fell - directly into Zanniga's eyes.

“RUN!” she screamed, tugging at Rob's hand, and trying to pull him with her back the way they had come.

No-one knew these tunnels like she did, and if there was one thing she'd learned from the Doctor, it was how to do an awful lot of running.

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"Ally?" he whispered, "since I might be him... how would your Doctor have handled this?"

There was an impish tone to her voice as she responded. “First, he would say, '''Ello, I'm the Doctor!' in a very bright, friendly tone of voice.”

"Bollocks," Rob repied. He didn't really remember much, but it didn't sound like something he'd do. still, you never know. So he shrugged, and tried it. "Wotcher, mate! I'm the Doctor!"

(Meddler, something whispered.)

"Yeah, that didn't quite sound right. What next?"

“Then he'd say something really silly, like, 'Lovely night for an apocalypse, don't you think?'"

"Lovely weather, innit?" Rob called. "Can't beat tunnels fer steady climate, am I right?"

"You're %$#%ing mad is what you are!" Zanniga called back.

"After that, he'd take my hand...” As she spoke, her small delicate hand stole into Rob's larger one, her fingers curling around his. “And he'd do something like this...”

In a flash, she brought up her other fist and unclenched it, flinging the contents – a handful of dust and scree she had scooped up from the ground when she fell - directly into Zanniga's eyes.

“RUN!” she screamed.

Apparently he'd done a whole lot of running in his unremembered life, because it felt like old reflexes as he spun and took off through the darkness. Unnoticed by him and unseeable in the darkness, blackness filled his eyes and he could see - if it really was sight - as well as if daylight flooded the tunnel. He had no idea why he could see like that, but given the uneven and debris-strewn floor, it was just as well. He hadn't managed to rip his bare foot open yet, and he'd like to keep it that way.

"I'll do you both, you #@%^!" Zanniga shouted, voice echoing. The sound of his boots smacking the cement of the subway tunnel could be heard as he began chasing them. 'Nice and slow!"

"Ally?" Rob asked, looking wildly around. "Is there a nice, dark tunnel around here? I mean, really dark. The kind of dark tunnel that nobody goes in because nobody ever comes back?" He grinned, and there was something nasty in that grin. "Because I've got me an idea, I do."

[Allison Castiel]

"I'll do you both, you #@%^!" Zanniga shouted, voice echoing. The sound of his boots smacking the cement of the subway tunnel could be heard as he began chasing them. 'Nice and slow!"

"You won't get away with it, you psychopath,” Allie yelled back over her shoulder, switching off her lantern to make herself less of a target. “Jem knows where we are! She sent us down here! So you better back off, right now!”

There was a harsh, grating sound from out of the darkness, and with a chill, she realised that he was laughing. “You really don't get it, do you, Castiel? Who do you think sent me after you? Jem likes things to be tidy. No loose ends or awkward bumps. You and your new pal won't be the first job I've done for her, sweetheart, and you won't be the last, neither. But I'm guessin'... you might be one of the most enjoyable!”

Allie nearly reeled in shock, the unexpected betrayal like a punch in the gut. Rob. Somehow, Jem felt threatened by Rob. There was no other explanation. And after pretending she was going to help him, she'd sent her personal hitman to kill them both!

“I could shoot you both, here and now,” Zanniga's leering voice came again from behind them as they ran. With so many echoes bouncing around, it was hard to pinpoint exactly how close he was. The sound of his footfalls seemed to be coming from all around them. “Just like she told me to.  But where's the fun in that? I'd rather do it up close and personal. Much more entertaining! Jem gave me back my knife, Goodfellow. And now I'm gonna use it on you. Ironic, right?”

"Ally?" Rob asked, looking wildly around. "Is there a nice, dark tunnel around here? I mean, really dark. The kind of dark tunnel that nobody goes in because nobody ever comes back?" He grinned, and there was something nasty in that grin. "Because I've got me an idea, I do."

Allison thought hard, doing her best to master her fear. “There's... there's the old tunnels that go through to Gunnersbury,” she ventured, keeping her voice low. “But they were closed off long before the Apocalypse, when the Department of Transport re-routed the lines in the late nineties. I have no idea what's up there, we've never used them. The entrance is back there, just beyond the wasp-creature!”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"Ally?" Rob asked, looking wildly around. "Is there a nice, dark tunnel around here? I mean, really dark. The kind of dark tunnel that nobody goes in because nobody ever comes back?" He grinned, and there was something nasty in that grin. "Because I've got me an idea, I do."

“There's... there's the old tunnels that go through to Gunnersbury,” she ventured, keeping her voice low. “But they were closed off long before the Apocalypse, when the Department of Transport re-routed the lines in the late nineties. I have no idea what's up there, we've never used them. The entrance is back there, just beyond the wasp-creature!”

"Right," he said decisively. "That's where we're going, then." Without visible effort he increased his pace, all but sprinting through the rubble-coated subway tunnel. Zanniga could still be heard behind them, boots echoing in the distance. No shouting now, though. He was too busy trying to breathe and keep up with the pace Rob had set to bluster.

Whipping past the dead wasp mutant, Rob headed for the shuttered entrance into the closed Gunnersbury line. It was locked, but only with a simple padlock that yielded easily to a length of rebar that Rob used as an improvised lever. The sound of snapping metal was shockingly loud in the empty tunnel, as was the creaking of unused hinges as Rob used his booted foot to kick the door open. "In you go," he said, gesturing. Beyond, the disused tunnel yawned like a dry, cavernous throat.

"Now," Rob said, falling in alongside Allison as they ran along the tunnel, "here's the part I promise you won't like. You're going to keep running that way," he pointed along the tunnel with the length of rebar he still carried. "Meanwhile, I'm going to nip over there..." now he pointed towards the shadows alongside the edge of the tunnel, "and surprise that berk." He grinned, then angled off to be swallowed up by the darkness. "Keep running!" he called, echoes making it impossible to tell where his voice originated. "He's nearly on us!"

[Allison Castiel]

Allie's breath was rasping painfully in her throat and she had a lacerating stitch in her side, but she didn't dare to stop. Adrenaline propelled her forward at Rob's heels, barely managing to keep up as they raced back the way they'd just come. He was so fast and his steps were so sure, despite the lack of light. If she hadn't known better, she would have said he could see in the dark like a cat.

In direct contrast, Zanniga was blundering along after them like a herd of elephants. Allie wasn't sure if this was careless over-confidence on their pursuer's behalf, or whether he wanted them to hear him coming, to increase their feeling of being hunted like prey. Either way, he seemed to be making no effort at all to conceal his whereabouts.

The entrance to the Gunnersbury line was right where she had remembered it. Rob dealt with the lock in short order, kicked in the door and urged her through the gap.

"In you go," he said, gesturing. Beyond, the disused tunnel yawned like a dry, cavernous throat.

She hesitated, for just one infinitesimal moment. They really had no idea what was in there. It could be anything. Years ago, a bunch of urban legends had grown up about why the Department of Transport had rerouted the line in the first place. Apparently, the decision had never been satisfactorily explained. To be honest, back before the Apocalypse, Allie had never bothered to give such nonsense a second thought. Now, however, when she was faced with the grim reality of the old tunnels, bits and pieces of the old stories began to come back to her, giving her pause.

Behind her, she could hear Zanniga's heavy footfalls getting closer. Her choice was a simple one. Risking possible danger in the disused tunnels with Rob... or getting very definitely killed out here. Allie made up her mind not to waste any more time, and hustled through the door.

"Now," Rob said, falling in alongside Allison as they ran along the tunnel, "here's the part I promise you won't like. You're going to keep running that way," he pointed along the tunnel with the length of rebar he still carried. "Meanwhile, I'm going to nip over there..." now he pointed towards the shadows alongside the edge of the tunnel, "and surprise that berk."

He was right. She didn't like his plan at all. Oh, it made sense. If she kept running, Zanniga would naturally assume Rob was with her. Hopefully, he wouldn't suspect an ambush. But every horror movie she'd ever seen told her that splitting up in the creepy tunnel was a very bad idea.

“Rob,” she began anxiously. “I don't...”

But he'd already gone, vanishing into the dark as if he was part of it. She wondered if he was planning to kill Zanniga, or simply to incapacitate him.

"Keep running!" he called, echoes making it impossible to tell where his voice originated. "He's nearly on us!"

Biting her lip, Allie did as he said, sprinting along that tunnel and praying with all her heart that there wasn't anything down here that was worse than the monster that was already chasing them.

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

Gripping his rebar, Rob lurked in what he hoped were the shadows. He couldn't tell, not really. Not with whatever it was that was letting him see in the dark. But the service alcove was at a right angle to the path of the tunnel, and he was pretty sure that any light would cast it into shadows instead of illuminating it and making him a pretty little target with no cover. So, trying to feel confident, he lurked and waited.

And felt vaguely guilty.

Ally's discontent with his plan had been obvious, but she was doing it anyway. Which worried him. Somehow, he found that he didn't care for the feeling of having someone trust him like that. Did that mean he wasn't Ally's "Doctor"? He didn't think he was, but... well... how do you prove something like that? Or, at least, how do you prove something like that with your mind and memory full of holes? Still, Doctor or no, he'd put her life on the line and now he'd have to try and...

Light spilled into the tunnel as the service door opened. Rob held his breath.

"Olly olly oxen free," Zanniga called, voice sickly sweet and evily playful. "Do you two really think that I'll be put off by Gunnersby? I'm not afraid of stories, Ally. Are you?" He began to whistle as he entered the tunnel. "So what do you think happens now, Ally?" he called. "I run away, scared, and just say I did you? I get bored, wandering around looking for you?" He laughed, and his laughter was harsh and evil. "Not bloody likely. I can still see your torch, you know."

Rob licked his lips as the burly man passed, shifting his grip on the rebar. Then, with a burst of motion, he threw himself from the tunnel and closed on Zanniga. Warned by a clatter of rocks, the big man spun and fired a wide-eyed shot as he saw the ragged-clothed figure closing in on him, and Rob had to twist hard to avoid the bullet. Then he was on Zanniga, hammering the rifle muzzle to the ground with a ringing blow of the rebar.

"I'll %^$#ing kill you!" Zanniga roared, grabbing for Rob.

Rob danced backwards, slashing upwards with a backhand stroke of the rebar, and Zanniga cried out as the tip caught him under the jaw and cracked his head backwards. "You said that already," he laughed. "Maybe you should get some new lines?"

Zanniga went for his knife and Rob lunged, wielding the rebar like a sword and jamming the tip into the other man's shoulder. Zanniga cried out, then cried out again as Rob struck him in the side of the head with the metal. The big man hit the ground, and cried out several more times as Rob commenced beating him with the broken length of steel. Finally, once Zanniga had stopped making noises when he struck him, Rob stopped and squatted down.

"It's over, Ally," he called out, checking Zanniga's pulse. "Bully boy's out, and might be concussed. You can come on back."

[Allison Castiel]

People had died down here. That was what the stories said. People had come down here on trains into these tunnels and had never come out again. Allie couldn't remember the exact details. It had all been hushed up, or so the conspiracy nuts had claimed at the time. Facts had been changed, the evidence blurred, testimonies twisted, until nobody knew the actual truth of the Gunnersbury line, or why it had been closed. And since the Apocalypse, there was nobody left who even cared.

But these subterranean passageways felt different, somehow. Allie had spent the vast majority of the last five years of her life underground. She was used to it, and usually, the darkness held no fear for her. Here, though... she couldn't put her finger on it. Were these tunnels colder? Was that why they appeared to press around her so tightly? Were the shadows moving, in the dim light of her lantern? Or was it just her imagination, feeding on the half-remembered tales and conjuring up terror that wasn't really there?

The frigid air shocked her throat and lungs, as she inhaled deeper, faster; and still there seemed to be not enough oxygen, her breath rasping painfully between her lips. She could hear her heart pounding in her own ears, fit to explode; and the crunch of her small boots impacting dry gravel as she punched her way through the gloom.

To make matters worse, she could hear Zanniga shouting her name from behind her, his voice eerily resonant in the enclosed space.

"Olly olly oxen free," Zanniga called, voice sickly sweet and evily playful. "Do you two really think that I'll be put off by Gunnersby? I'm not afraid of stories, Ally. Are you?" He began to whistle as he entered the tunnel.

Allie shuddered and almost stumbled. The sound of that tuneless, monotonous whistling was unspeakably eerie. Just four notes, over and over again, as insane as Zanniga himself.

"So what do you think happens now, Ally?" he called. "I run away, scared, and just say I did you? I get bored, wandering around looking for you?" He laughed, and his laughter was harsh and evil. "Not bloody likely. I can still see your torch, you know."

Allie swallowed, tightening her sweaty grip on the lantern, reminding herself that she wanted him to see it. That was her role, to be the decoy, to lead Zanniga unknowingly into Rob's ambush. But even had that not been the case, she knew she could never have switched off that little bobbing circle of light. Not here, not in this thick, syrupy, choking darkness. Every human instinct she possessed screamed against it.

Even as the thought danced through her mind, the light flickered and her heart lurched. Oh don't, she begged silently. Don't go out on me, not now. Frantically, she wound the crank handle as she ran onwards, trying to kick-start some life into the dying battery. To her relief, the glow strengthened again, driving back the crawling shadows.

Behind her, there was the sound of rabid cursing and a shot rang out, the echoes nearly deafening.

"I'll %^$#ing kill you!"

Allie stopped dead in her tracks. “Rob!” His name squeaked out of her dry throat. Oh God, what had happened? Had it all gone wrong? Had Zanniga killed him?

Whirling around, she raced back the way she'd come. She had no plan, no real idea of what she was going to do to help him if he was in trouble. But there had to be something. She couldn't just keep running away and leave him behind.

There were horrible noises coming through the darkness from around the corner. An irregular thumping sound, like a mallet striking a slab of meat. And cries of pain. Someone was taking a bad beating. Oh, please, let it not be Rob, Allie prayed as she drew closer. Zanniga would know how to make it last, enjoying every last drop of agony he could inflict. Bending, she snatched up a sharp, jagged rock from a pile of debris, and hefted it in her free hand. As tiny as she was, she knew she had no chance against the ex-soldier's superior strength - but if things had gone badly for Rob, she was determined to get in at least one good hit before she died.

Then she heard the voice, calling to her. A very different voice from the one she had heard blustering threats such a short time ago.

"It's over, Ally. Bully boy's out, and might be concussed. You can come on back."

“Rob!” Thankfully, she tossed aside the rock and hurried back around the bend to join him. “Are you all right?”

In the light of her lantern, she could see him crouched beside Zanniga's bloody and unconscious body, the other man's wrist in his hand as he felt for a pulse. Again, without warning, the glow from the lamp dulled. It was weird, Allie thought, bewildered. Not like a flat battery at all. More like... the shadows were eating the light.

She grabbed the crank handle and whirled it again, but to no avail. The light winked out, leaving a darkness so thick that it was almost choking. Trying not to panic, Allie slammed the lantern into the palm of her hand – once, twice, three times, hard and sharp - until in the end, she was rewarded with a renewed flicker, as the lantern flared into life once more.

Holding it high, she looked back towards Rob, her mouth dry with apprehension. “I heard the fight and I...”

She broke off, transfixed, as the light shone on something white behind Rob, that hadn't been there before. An awful scream froze in her throat, fighting to be free, but unable to find a voice.

There was nothing left of Zanniga. In those few tiny seconds, his entire body had been stripped of flesh until there was nothing left except gleaming white bones and a ghoulishly grinning skull.

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"It's over, Ally," he called out, checking Zanniga's pulse. "Bully boy's out, and might be concussed. You can come on back.

“Rob!” he heard her call back, voice echoing down the tunnel along with the sound of clattering rock. “Are you all right?”

"Yeah," he answered, blinking in the sudden blinding light of her pale torch. "Yeah, I..."

The light winked out, and suddenly he could see again. See Ally as she desperately cranked the handle of her torch. See the cloud of... of something swirl around her, probing at her. Something that he could sense hunger from in some unaccountable fashion. Something that some portion of his fragmented memory recognized.

"Vashta Nerada," he heard his own voice in his memory, speaking nonsesnse as if it made sense. "We called them the Cyyisnyoidnigon sryonntgohdudai crnoauwd, which can be translated more or less as 'dark energy femtoclades that liberate the energies in carbon-carbon covalent bonds'. Or, more poetically, 'the shadows that melt flesh'.

Leave her alone, he told them, speaking wordlessly in some alien fashion.

Unaware of just how much danger she was in, Ally continued to work the handle. As she did, the cloud swirled and flowed across the floor towards him. He watched as they flowed over him and around him, felt a chill and a hunger and a recognition from him, and then watched as the grimy-looking patterns in his palms and fingertips seemed to shift in time with their motions. Then the cloud flowed over Zanniga, and...

Light seared through his vision and Rob staggered backwards, tripping and landing on his rear as he covered his eyes with his arm. He could hear Ally starting to move towards him as his eyes tried to adjust. “I heard the fight and I...”

Her voice broke and ended. Rob forced his eyes open, to see Ally staring, white-faced and shocked, at the figure illuminated by her light. Zanniga. Or, well, some of Zanniga. His skeleton, bleached and grinning as it lay encased in tattered rags that had once been clothes.

"Bleedin' hell!" Rob exclaimed, scrambling away. Then, after a moment, he scuttled forward again. "Right, we need ta get the church outta here," he declared, running his fingers quickly through the dead man's possessions. He grabbed the mostly-full canteen, and the sheath knife (still in an intact nylon scabbard), and the fallen torch, and the pack of foil-wrapped MREs that he found in a ragged and threadbare puouch.

"Specifically," he continued, rising and gesturing back towards the door with his thumb, "let's get outta here that way."

[Allison Castiel]

For a few moments, Allison was paralysed by horror. It wasn't that she particularly cared that Zanniga was dead. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that the world would be a better place without him. And it wasn't that she was at all squeamish. Once, maybe, long ago. But death had become so common since the Apocalypse that it no longer had the power to disturb her. It was more the suddenness of it. The inexplicability. One second he had been there, as large as life and twice as ugly; injured, but still breathing. The next... gone, his bones as scoured and fleshless as if he had been dead for decades.

"Bleedin' hell!" Rob exclaimed, scrambling away.

Allie's skin suddenly felt clammy, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. “I don't understand,” she murmured.

She held the lantern high, turning in a circle and flashing it around them, lighting the empty crevices, sending the shadows skittering and dancing. There was nothing to be seen... and yet, she had the sense that something dire was lurking, just beyond the protective circle of light. Was this then the dread secret of the Gunnersbury line? Was this what had happened to people back in the nineties, forcing the authorities to shut down the affected tunnels? She couldn't shake the horrible image of an abandoned train stuck somewhere down here, full of skeletons dressed in tattered business suits and shredded school uniforms, rush hour refugees that had never reached their destination.

“What on Earth happened to him?”

… [Rob] scuttled forward again. "Right, we need ta get the church outta here," he declared, running his fingers quickly through the dead man's possessions. He grabbed the mostly-full canteen, and the sheath knife (still in an intact nylon scabbard), and the fallen torch, and the pack of foil-wrapped MREs that he found in a ragged and threadbare pouch.

"Specifically," he continued, rising and gesturing back towards the door with his thumb, "let's get outta here that way."

Still dazed, Allie nodded. She had no intention of setting foot in these tunnels ever again. As far as she was concerned, they needed to be sealed off forever, so that whatever horror dwelt in here was left undisturbed. She glanced back towards Zanniga's bones. This was his tomb now. His ghost would be left to join whatever other unhappy spirits haunted the darkness.

“Wait!” she said to Rob, dropping to her knees beside the fallen skeleton.

There was nothing left of Zanniga's clothing but rags. However, his boots were still miraculously intact. Back in the old days, the idea of taking shoes from a dead man – especially one who had died so horribly – would have appalled her. But this was the new world, and good boots were more valuable than gold. Gingerly, she wiggled at them, until they slipped free from Zanniga's bony feet into her hands.

“These look like they might fit you, Rob. And you need them more than he does.”

Tucking the boots under her arm, she willingly allowed Rob to hustle her out of the entrance, back into the more familiar corridors beyond, and then helped him to slam the heavy iron door shut behind them. She only hoped it would be enough to contain whatever was inside.

“What do we do now?” she asked, as they stood once more beside the dusty corpse of the wasp mutant. “We can't go back to the settlement. Jem will only send someone else after us. There are plenty of other men like Zanniga.” There was a hint of despair in her voice at the loss of the only home she had known since the world had ended. “Why would she even do that, Rob? Why try to have us killed? We weren't doing any harm.  And how many other people has she had murdered since she's been in charge?”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

“What do we do now?” Ally asked.

Rob took a seat on some broken pavement near the dead wasp, and pulled off his one remaining boot. After a moments hesitation, he tossed it aside and pulled on one of Zanniga's boots. "Well, first I make sure these fit."

It clearly wasn't what she meant. That was clear from the way she sort of hugged herself as she paced back and forth. “We can't go back to the settlement. Jem will only send someone else after us. There are plenty of other men like Zanniga.”

"Always are," Rob agreed, pulling the other boot on and wiggling his toes experimentally. Then he stood up and marched in place for a moment, trying the boots for comfort. "His kind're awfully common, bully-boys and thugs getting to indulge their hate under the shield of authority."

Ally turned, giving him a heart-rending look of horror and loss. “Why would she even do that, Rob? Why try to have us killed? We weren't doing any harm. And how many other people has she had murdered since she's been in charge?"

Rob thought about that for a moment, cocking his head back and forth as he did. "Well, taking the last first, I've no idea." He shrugged. "I mean, I could probably find out, with a little work, but... well, do you really wanna know? And more important, is it important?"

He unscrewed the cap of Zanniga's canteen and took a small swallow of the warm, metallic water within. "It ain't, not really. Oh, I mean it was important to the poor sods she's had done, but it ain't important to us or what we're doing. As to the why?" He offered her the canteen. "Could be she sees me a threat to her established order. Whatever else she thinks I am, she knows I'm a danger. Cos I don't take orders and I don't play by rules and I generally muck about with things." He grinned. "And she's probably right. And people in power don't like people muckin' about an' upsettin' the status quo."

Another shrug. "Besides. What if I'm wrong? What if I'm just barkin', an' I get people all worked up with me mad ideas about changin' things, an' it don't work? People need hope, but they don't need false hope."

He fell silent for a bit after that, leaning back against the dead mutant and stroking his chin in thought. "Do not go gentle into that good night," he murmured, absently. "Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Looking up, there was an unidentifiable quality of hardness and determination in his expression. "Maybe I am a nutter, Alley. I don't promise you I'm a wise man, or even a good man. But I can tell you this: I will not go gentle into that good night!" He sprang to his feet suddenly, throwing his arms wide and spinning in a circle. "This is NOT how humanity ENDS!" he shouted, kicking the wasp mutant. There was a deep, hollow booming sound as his sole impacted the metal. "Not huddled in the dark!" He kicked it again. "Not meekly waiting for extinction!" Again. "Fifty thousand years!" Again. "It does not end like this!"

Again.

"You hear me, Jem!" He kicked the wasp again, and it shifted and began to sway. "I wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities!" Again. "Against powers!" Again. "Against the rulers of the darkness of this world!"

The legs of the wasp monster finally gave out and it crashed to the ground with a sound like a truck full of cymbals overturning. "Do NOT go gentle into that good night!" he shouted, leaping up on the thing's thorax and turning with a wild grin to face Ally. He offered his hand, and his voice fell to a normal speaking volume once more. "So, wanna stay here and play it safe?" He paused, watching her. "Or you wanna follow a madman to a library and rage against the dying of the light?"

[Allison Castiel]

"Well, taking the last first, I've no idea." He shrugged. "I mean, I could probably find out, with a little work, but... well, do you really wanna know? And more important, is it important?"

The more Allison thought about it, the less sure she became that did want to know. But somehow, she thought that she should. Or at least that someone should. It all came down to that old chestnut, about who policed the police. If the person at the top of the tree was corrupt, what did that say about the society they'd so painstakingly built in the wake of the Apocalypse? They'd all been so proud about clinging to the shreds of their humanity in the face of imminent extinction – but what if it had all been a lie?

“Of course it's important!” she cried. “She's in charge. People look to her for leadership. They trust her. They believe in her.” Her voice faltered and trailed away. “I believed in her. How can that not be important?”

She knew she sounded like a disillusioned child, but she couldn't help it.  She'd really never thought for a second that Jem would do anything like this.

[Rob] unscrewed the cap of Zanniga's canteen and took a small swallow of the warm, metallic water within. "It ain't, not really. Oh, I mean it was important to the poor sods she's had done, but it ain't important to us or what we're doing. As to the why?" He offered her the canteen.

She took the water bottle and drank from it almost absently, still fretting over Jem's betrayal. Even though she wasn't paying full attention to what she was doing, she was so conditioned to conserving every possible drop of water, she still took only the tiniest of sips, just enough to wet the inside of her mouth.

"Could be she sees me a threat to her established order,” Rob continued. “Whatever else she thinks I am, she knows I'm a danger. Cos I don't take orders and I don't play by rules and I generally muck about with things." He grinned. "And she's probably right. And people in power don't like people muckin' about an' upsettin' the status quo."

“But look at us!” Allie burst out. “Living like rats in a hole. No food, no water, no hygiene, no hope. How can that status quo be worth preserving? Who would even want to rule over a kingdom of dust and ashes, if there was a chance for something better?”

Another shrug. "Besides. What if I'm wrong? What if I'm just barkin', an' I get people all worked up with me mad ideas about changin' things, an' it don't work? People need hope, but they don't need false hope."

Allie pondered that for a moment. Was that what Jem was doing? Acting to ensure the survival of the settlement, by protecting them from a fantasy she doubted could ever come true?

“I don't believe you're crazy.  And anyway, even false hope is better than none at all,” she eventually responded. “I've seen what happens when people give up, Rob. Over time, they become less and less, the colour and life leeching from them until they just become... grey. Their spirit dies and they fade away into despair, until there's nothing real left at all. Even though they're still breathing, they might as well be dead. And I won't accept that anyone has the right to choose that for other people. Not even Jem, whatever her motivation.”

He fell silent for a bit after that, leaning back against the dead mutant and stroking his chin in thought. "Do not go gentle into that good night," he murmured, absently. "Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

A faint smile curved her lips as she recognised the words. “Dylan Thomas,” she said softly, naming the poet.

Looking up, there was an unidentifiable quality of hardness and determination in his expression. "Maybe I am a nutter, Alley. I don't promise you I'm a wise man, or even a good man. But I can tell you this: I will not go gentle into that good night!" He sprang to his feet suddenly, throwing his arms wide and spinning in a circle. "This is NOT how humanity ENDS!" he shouted, kicking the wasp mutant. There was a deep, hollow booming sound as his sole impacted the metal. "Not huddled in the dark!" He kicked it again. "Not meekly waiting for extinction!" Again. "Fifty thousand years!" Again. "It does not end like this!"

Allie watched, startled, as his calm exterior sloughed away and she caught a glimpse of the steely resolve hidden beneath, the pure, passionate rage that burned in his eyes. The kicks he was landing on the dead wasp-mutant were savage, symbolic of his defiance against everything and anything that stood in his way.

Again.

"You hear me, Jem!" He kicked the wasp again, and it shifted and began to sway. "I wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities!" Again. "Against powers!" Again. "Against the rulers of the darkness of this world!"

If Danny had been there, he would have been pulling Allie away, warning her that Rob was mental, telling her not to go anywhere near him. Because, for Danny, and others like him, the status quo was everything. Living precariously from day to day, making the best of the little they had, keeping their heads down and never looking up, never challenging anything. That was what was safe. That was what kept them alive.

But Allie didn't want that any more. She wanted a chance... any chance... to change the world. To reach for the golden ring and to make things better. Even if it ended up costing her everything.

Even if it got her killed.

The legs of the wasp monster finally gave out and it crashed to the ground with a sound like a truck full of cymbals overturning. "Do NOT go gentle into that good night!" he shouted, leaping up on the thing's thorax and turning with a wild grin to face Ally. He offered his hand, and his voice fell to a normal speaking volume once more. "So, wanna stay here and play it safe?" He paused, watching her. "Or you wanna follow a madman to a library and rage against the dying of the light?"

Not a wise man, not a good man... but a man that was prepared to fight.

Mad it might be, but Allie didn't care. That wild grin called to her and she couldn't help but answer. Reaching her hand up to him, she let him pull her up to stand triumphant on top of the dead creature that had destroyed her planet. It felt like the first step to climbing a mountain. Her eyes shone as she met his gaze head on.

“Never mind safe,” she said fiercely. “Let's go kick some butt.”