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Next: to be released
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Series 1 Episode 1
"Alfred"
Adrenaline. That was what kept Alfie fast. Being light on his feet was what had kept him out of trouble for the preceding twelve months. There had been a couple of close calls, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins felt like a superpower.
That didn’t stop him feeling nervous, though. Alfie knew what he was doing, and his paranoia gave the impression that everybody else knew, too. He had to act natural, or he would give the game away.
Closing time was imminent. The staff were much more focused on cashing up and closing the store than what an inconspicuous young man was doing. Alfie had to go for it. This was his moment.
Alfie rapidly yet efficiently slipped a couple of packets of paracetamol into his tote bag. A quick look around confirmed nobody was paying him any attention. The two checkout girls were too busy gossiping to care about their one remaining customer, and the pharmacist was nowhere to be seen. All Alfie needed to do was make a discreet exit.
Avoiding eye contact, Alfie casually strolled to the exit, passing through the security scanners. Most items didn’t have a security tag, Alfie had noticed, so they were somewhat useless.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Alfie froze. He forgot to check if the paracetamol had a security sticker on them or not. An amateur mistake.
“Wait,” one of the checkout girls called after him, but Alfie had no intention of sticking around. Alfie sprinted forwards, through the length of the near-empty Eastbrook shopping centre. Looking behind, Alfie could see the checkout girl talking to one of the security guards and, most concerningly, pointing in his direction.
What Alfie had to his advantage was how well he knew Eastbrook. He had grown up in central Manchester, and he could even remember buying toys in Woolworths back when he was very young. He darted to the left, in the direction of the multi-storey car park, throwing the hood of his favourite grey jacket over his recognisable mop of caramel brown curls.
SLAM! Alfie collided with the door to the car park. Already locked. Alfie whacked the door as loudly as he could, in the hope that someone was there to open it, but nobody came. Alfie panicked. The adrenaline wasn’t exciting anymore.
Behind, two security guards approached. They both shared the same blank, focused expression, and they continued towards Alfie. He wasn’t giving up, though. Perhaps he could run through the middle of them? It would be difficult, but the thought of getting back to his mum was keeping him going. Being made redundant felt like he’d let her down; affording basic amenities would’ve been far more straightforward if that hadn’t happened.
Suddenly, the door clicked open and Alfie fell backwards – no, he was pulled backwards. He looked up to see a tall woman in a soft, light turquoise jacket and skirt, her head almost entirely shaved, with stylish earrings dangling just above her shoulders, perfectly colour-coded to her outfit. Alfie was entranced; she was the most glamorous parking attendant he’d ever seen.
“Lock it,” Alfie said, remembering the guards following him. She kicked the door shut and pointed some sort of remote towards it. With a whirring noise and a glowing blue light, the door was locked. The guards couldn’t get through.
“Go, quickly. That door won’t hold them for long,” she commanded, before walking off with a confident strut.
“Wait, who are you?” Alfie called over. No answer. She was a mystery, and Alfie was desperate to find out more.
That didn’t stop him feeling nervous, though. Alfie knew what he was doing, and his paranoia gave the impression that everybody else knew, too. He had to act natural, or he would give the game away.
Closing time was imminent. The staff were much more focused on cashing up and closing the store than what an inconspicuous young man was doing. Alfie had to go for it. This was his moment.
Alfie rapidly yet efficiently slipped a couple of packets of paracetamol into his tote bag. A quick look around confirmed nobody was paying him any attention. The two checkout girls were too busy gossiping to care about their one remaining customer, and the pharmacist was nowhere to be seen. All Alfie needed to do was make a discreet exit.
Avoiding eye contact, Alfie casually strolled to the exit, passing through the security scanners. Most items didn’t have a security tag, Alfie had noticed, so they were somewhat useless.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Alfie froze. He forgot to check if the paracetamol had a security sticker on them or not. An amateur mistake.
“Wait,” one of the checkout girls called after him, but Alfie had no intention of sticking around. Alfie sprinted forwards, through the length of the near-empty Eastbrook shopping centre. Looking behind, Alfie could see the checkout girl talking to one of the security guards and, most concerningly, pointing in his direction.
What Alfie had to his advantage was how well he knew Eastbrook. He had grown up in central Manchester, and he could even remember buying toys in Woolworths back when he was very young. He darted to the left, in the direction of the multi-storey car park, throwing the hood of his favourite grey jacket over his recognisable mop of caramel brown curls.
SLAM! Alfie collided with the door to the car park. Already locked. Alfie whacked the door as loudly as he could, in the hope that someone was there to open it, but nobody came. Alfie panicked. The adrenaline wasn’t exciting anymore.
Behind, two security guards approached. They both shared the same blank, focused expression, and they continued towards Alfie. He wasn’t giving up, though. Perhaps he could run through the middle of them? It would be difficult, but the thought of getting back to his mum was keeping him going. Being made redundant felt like he’d let her down; affording basic amenities would’ve been far more straightforward if that hadn’t happened.
Suddenly, the door clicked open and Alfie fell backwards – no, he was pulled backwards. He looked up to see a tall woman in a soft, light turquoise jacket and skirt, her head almost entirely shaved, with stylish earrings dangling just above her shoulders, perfectly colour-coded to her outfit. Alfie was entranced; she was the most glamorous parking attendant he’d ever seen.
“Lock it,” Alfie said, remembering the guards following him. She kicked the door shut and pointed some sort of remote towards it. With a whirring noise and a glowing blue light, the door was locked. The guards couldn’t get through.
“Go, quickly. That door won’t hold them for long,” she commanded, before walking off with a confident strut.
“Wait, who are you?” Alfie called over. No answer. She was a mystery, and Alfie was desperate to find out more.
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Alfie wasn’t going to give up easily. The last few minutes had involved one progressively weird moment after another, and the only person able to offer an explanation was ignoring him. Answers to his questions were the least Alfie deserved.
Whoever the woman was, she seemed important. Her shoulders were relaxed, and her stride was purposeful, but she didn’t look like staff. The device in her hand wasn’t exactly a set of keys, either.
“Hey, don’t ignore me. Who are you?” Alfie repeated, raising the volume, jogging to catch up to her pace.
“Wrong question,” she finally answered, albeit not in the way Alfie wanted. He contemplated. What was the right question? He had so many whirring around his brain.
“Why were you there, at the door?” Alfie questioned.
“Getting closer,” she fed back, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as they neared the far end of the car park.
Alfie thought as hard as he could. What was the significance of that door? What had attracted her attention? What hadn’t he considered?
“Who were those guards?” Alfie selected as his next attempt.
“Finally,” she halted on the spot and swivelled to face Alfie, “I don’t have time to explain, but they’re not security guards. You almost fell into a trap.”
“What?” Alfie was perplexed. How were the answers only providing more questions?
“It’s not important. I said you almost fell into a trap, which means you didn’t, which means you can go back to whatever it is you do every day,” she stated, before resuming her strut down to the level below. Alfie sighed. Whoever she was, he couldn’t help feeling intrigued by her. That couldn’t be the end.
“Are they dangerous?” Alfie threw one final question in. One final attempt to squeeze some information out of her.
CLANG! The door gave way. Alfie glanced back to see the guards speed-walking towards them. The woman turned a corner as if nothing could faze her. Alfie picked up the pace, following her down the slope; he couldn’t exactly turn back.
At the bottom of the slope, Alfie looked around, but there was no sign of her. She had vanished into thin air. How could anyone do that? Alfie was perplexed, but he couldn’t hang around to find out. Footsteps on the level above were growing louder. Alfie had to run, and fast.
It was unusual for Shania to be the last member of staff in the pharmacy after closing time. She knew without any doubt that she wasn’t trusted to cash up and close the shutters alone, her meetings with HR had confirmed that. More than once, she had been called in first thing in the morning to discuss her drunken social media posts, where she had revealed her true feelings about her job, and her colleagues. Shania wasn’t bothered, though. The job was a stopgap until she found something better. Something with more money, which wasn’t much of a challenge.
The pharmacy that night had been quiet and boring, as per usual, until the last few minutes before they closed. Shania was sure that guy was stealing something, so she had to alert security. She followed protocol to the letter. She had been on her best behaviour for a while, so perhaps they were offering her a chance to prove herself when deciding on that week’s rota?
Till closed and lights off, Shania was ready to duck under the partially closed shutter and fully close it from the outside. A warm bath was calling her name, with a glass of rosé and one of the bath bombs she had received as a Christmas present.
A creak came from inside the shop. Shania spun round. The lights were off. She couldn’t see much. It probably wasn’t anything, though. She knew the shop was empty. The thief was their last customer of the night, and her bossy co-worker Jasmine had slipped out to get the early bus home.
Another creak. A louder creak. Shania felt sick. All she wanted to do was leave, but she couldn’t lock up if someone was inside. How did they get in? Who even were they?
Shania switched her phone torch on. At the end of the closest aisle, she could see it. A dark figure. Barely visible, but the black, leathery head was a giveaway.
“Hello,” Shania called, “Are you okay? We’re closing now, you need to leave.”
No reply. It didn’t move. It kept staring at her. That’s what Shania thought, anyway. She couldn’t see any eyes, but why wouldn’t it have eyes? It was a person in a silly costume playing a practical joke.
“I said we’re closing, please leave,” Shania repeated. Against her better judgement, she inched closer. One step at a time, nearing the intruder. It didn’t move, eerily watching her every step.
Shania’s phone torch switched off. Agitated, she checked her screen. Five percent of battery life left. Not enough to run the torch. Now, she was scared.
“I’m going to call security,” Shania said, keen to get out of the shop as soon as possible.
Another creak.
Then another.
Followed by a crash.
Items were falling off the shelves, collapsing to the floor. The noise was getting nearer. Shania started to run. The exit wasn’t far away, and once she was out of the shop, she would have light on her side again.
The noises grew louder, and closer. Shania lunged for the automatic doors, but before she could even reach the security scanners, something clutched onto her leg. Shania screamed in pain, its claws digging deep into her ankle.
“Please, let me go,” she winced, fear encompassing her body.
With a thud, Shania collapsed to the floor. She was being dragged back into the store. In the process, she’d dropped her phone. Shania screamed again, the loudest scream she had ever let out.
Alfie exhaled the most relieved sigh as soon as the front door clicked shut. The sight of his home felt particularly comforting after his closest call yet. He had sprinted most of the way home, regularly checking over his shoulder to verify he wasn’t being followed. To his reprieve, the last time he had seen the guards was when the door crashed open in the car park, so he must have given them the slip.
Nevertheless, Alfie had two packs of paracetamol securely in his tote bag. He had succeeded, at the end of the day, and most importantly, he wasn’t letting his mum down. Their flat wasn’t big or glamorous, but it didn’t need to be. She had worked extremely hard to make their home everything they needed it to be, so the least he could do was step up to remove some of the financial load from her shoulders.
“You were a while,” a voice called from the kitchen, commenting not out of criticism, but out of concern.
“Sorry, I went for a walk on the way back,” Alfie responded with a white lie to prevent any worry, not that he knew how to summarise the events of that evening anyway.
“Did you forget about your guest?” she called again. Alfie’s stomach dropped. He had entirely forgotten about the plans he’d made, and with how exhausted he was, he wasn’t sure he was up for socialising anymore.
Sloping into the kitchen, Alfie met the warm, inviting gaze of his mum, Gemma, as she brushed the tea towel over a plate. She gave birth to him at just eighteen, and she raised him on her own for most of his life, which made her immensely strong in Alfie’s eyes and, even in her dressing gown, she still looked dazzling, too. Her golden auburn hair slid just below her shoulders, and a dark pink lipstick decorated her otherwise make-up-free face.
To her left, helping with the washing up, was Alfie’s friend Matty. Matty was practically family after how long they had known each other, and Alfie trusted him implicitly. His jet-black hair was pushed back to look slicked, but Matty never quite mastered the art of appearing smooth.
“What time do you call this?” Matty smirked playfully.
“Mate, it’s been twenty minutes,” Alfie smiled while defending himself, “Don’t act like I’ve been missing for weeks.”
“My time is precious,” Matty grinned.
“You’re always late. I bet you were late today too,” Alfie accused.
“I’ve barely been here five minutes,” Matty accepted, and they both laughed the way they always did together.
“Love, did you get the paracetamol?” Gemma interjected.
“Of course, here,” Alfie handed the two packs over from his bag.
“Thank you, love. My back’s killing me,” Gemma winced. She had pulled a muscle while stretching to clean behind the sofa a couple of days prior and her back had been delicate ever since.
“Go and sit down, I’ll finish up here, and I’ll put the kettle on,” Alfie offered, moving a couple of dirty bowls to the sink.
“You’re an angel. Your tea’s on the side for when you’re done, I’ve told Matty he can’t touch it,” Gemma winked, “But I think there’s a few tinnies in the fridge, help yourselves.”
“Thanks mum,” Alfie beamed.
“Alright,” Matty quietly interrogated once Gemma had left the tiny kitchen, “What’s the deal?”
“Huh?” Alfie played dumb, trying to act normal.
“You never go for walks,” Matty spotted, “You nicked the paracetamol, didn’t you?”
“Shush, dude,” Alfie panicked. He couldn’t let his mum hear that. She didn’t need to know he didn’t actually pay for them.
“I know it’s been hard since your contract wasn’t renewed, but all you need to do is ask if you need help,” Matty reminded.
“You’re broke, too,” Alfie raised an eyebrow.
“Well obviously, neither of us would be living in this dive of an estate if we had money,” Matty chuckled, “But I do have a couple of packs of paracetamol. They’d have been yours if you asked.”
“Point taken,” Alfie nodded.
“Anything else on your mind? I’m getting quite good at this agony aunt thing,” Matty wondered with a cheeky smirk. Alfie paused. He needed to talk to someone about the rest of his evening, and Matty was the only person who wouldn’t judge him or think he was losing the plot.
“You know the centre car park?” Alfie began.
“Yeah, of course. My uncle’s a security guard there,” Matty mentioned, much to Alfie’s intrigue.
“Wait, he is?” Alfie had a brainwave, “Do you think he could do me a favour?”
“I locked up myself last night, the place was empty, I’m sure. We often get kids in there. I don’t know how they get in,” Geoff explained, loading up the CCTV. He had a tiny office on the ground floor of the car park with a surprising amount of paperwork for a security guard. Alfie felt claustrophobic even with only the two of them in the room.
“It was maybe half an hour before the car park shut,” Alfie explained, “And she was no kid.”
“Matthew mentioned,” Geoff explained. Alfie had met Geoff a couple of times before and he had always been an eccentric character, and something of a loner, but always friendly, and he didn’t hesitate to offer a hand when Matty called the night before, “She doesn’t work here, I can tell you that much. Why do you want to find her?”
“Because I think she was doing something dangerous,” Alfie replied with a half-truth. What she was up to, Alfie had no idea, but the lack of a reply to Alfie’s final question told him all he needed to know about how dangerous those guards were. Whilst his curiosity was high, Alfie truly did want to help; he didn’t know if she even made it out safely.
“Alright, I’ve rewound to six o’clock last night. Take as long as you need, I’ve got to do my rounds,” Geoff explained. Alfie nodded, focusing on the footage in front.
6:02pm. Alfie spotted her, just outside the door he fell through. She couldn’t have arrived long before that, surely? He rewound the footage slowly, trying to watch all six screens of footage at the same time.
6:00pm. One of the cameras was faulty, but Alfie was sure it was working before he rewound. Even more slowly, he fast-forwarded. Perhaps it was just a dodgy camera? Alfie needed to be sure.
6:01pm. The image on that camera had returned. Its image was of a stairwell at the far end of the car park, the level below where Alfie had met her, and right by where he lost her. Except, the stairwell was barely visible. A large blue box was blocking the camera. Alfie couldn’t see much, but across the top, it read “Police Public Call Box.” It was a little worn and its entire design seemed dated, but through the grey translucent windows near the top, Alfie could see light.
Alfie was intrigued. On its own, it was strange enough, but a random police box very close to where he last saw the woman? He couldn’t resist the urge to check it out.
Up close, the blue box had an unusual feel to it. Alfie could hear a gentle whir, as if it were an active electrical appliance. Everything about it felt genuine, from the wooden doors to the glass windows. A tug on the front panel – which had instructions concluding with ‘Pull to Open’ – displayed an old-fashioned phone, surprisingly polished and shiny, but with no wires connecting it to anything.
Alfie was baffled, but by nothing more than its positioning. It blocked access to the downward stairwell, so why had it been placed there? Geoff hadn’t mentioned anything unusual, but there was no way he’d have allowed a box like that to be placed there, right? That said, Alfie didn’t have any alternative explanations. Phone boxes didn’t just appear out of thin air.
In what felt like a moment of madness, Alfie knocked three times on the door. He didn’t expect anybody to step out, but there wasn’t a rule book for random phone boxes in car park stairwells. As expected, no answer. Alfie tried opening the door, but no luck: firmly locked shut.
Stepping back, Alfie sighed. The box felt like a waste of his time, but the mystery of where the woman vanished to remained. There was no space for her to get down the stairs, but could she have gone upstairs to hide? That was his top theory, and the only one with any credence to it.
The stairwell door creaked open behind Alfie. In the corner of his eye, he saw what he was most worried about: black uniform and boots with an obnoxiously green hi-vis jacket. The security guards had found him, but how? He hadn’t stepped foot in Eastbrook that day; he knew better than to tempt fate.
“I don’t want any trouble, I promise,” Alfie slowly rotated, but his panic only grew when he saw their eyes. They were different to the night before. Regular human eyes on both of their faces had been replaced by pitch black empty holes. Alfie had never seen anything like that before. He was terrified. He backed up against the wall, the guards moving in front of the police box to block the stairwell door entirely.
“Up here,” a voice called from up the stairs. A voice Alfie recognised. A voice of hope. Glancing up, there she was. That same woman, wearing the same outfit, reaching out a hand towards Alfie, “Now!”
Alfie didn’t need to be asked twice. He sprinted upstairs to catch up to her before they carried on upwards, Alfie entirely placing his trust in this mystery woman he still knew nothing about. Regardless, she had saved his life for a second time, and Alfie couldn’t help feeling indebted.
One level up, they ran back out into the car park. Alfie was out of breath, but he knew they couldn’t slow down. The only way out was to go back down, whether by the same ramps the cars use, or through Eastbrook. Both options had risks, and Alfie wasn’t sure which one was less nerve-wracking.
“What’s the plan?” Alfie panted, desperate to have some idea of what was going on.
“Stay alive,” she replied assertively, barely out of breath, “You’re very persistent.”
“I wanted to check you were okay. You just vanished,” Alfie explained, taking deep breaths whenever he could manage.
“And you wanted to know more,” she noted, “Curiosity is knowledge. Don’t be ashamed.”
“Okay, yes, I’m really curious. Nothing in the last twenty-four hours has made sense,” Alfie admitted.
As she slowed down to a brisk walk, Alfie followed her lead. They were approaching the door back into Eastbrook where they met the night before.
“People often invent their own theories when they don’t understand something,” she theorised, “You came back to get more information.”
“Is that a problem?” Alfie raised an eyebrow.
“No, quite the opposite. Keep an open mind. Stay inquisitive. Never think you’ve seen everything,” she advised, “What’s your name?”
“Alfred Sutton, though everyone’s always called me Alfie,” he replied.
“What’s wrong with Alfred?” she questioned.
“It’s old-fashioned. It was my mum’s grandad’s name,” Alfie justified.
“And it’s your name. Your identity. Wear it with pride, Alfred,” she encouraged with a kind, knowing smile.
“So, what’s your name?” Alfie wondered.
“The Doctor,” she answered.
“Doctor what?” Alfie queried.
“Just the Doctor,” she clarified.
“What sort of a name is ‘the Doctor’?” Alfie scoffed.
“One I wear with pride,” she confidently answered, firmly putting Alfie in his place. He felt bad for making a joke, but he was impressed. She was intelligent, and she seemed to know what she was doing, which meant she was the right person to be around, “Okay, while we have a head start on those guards, I want to see what they’re meant to be guarding.”
“In there?” Alfie worried, pointing at the door to Eastbrook. He wasn’t sure going back there after the night before was such a good idea.
“Is there a problem?” the Doctor queried.
“No,” Alfie brushed over the problem. His new friend didn’t need to know every single miserable detail of his life, least of all something like that. They had a good rapport and he didn’t want to ruin it.
“Good, because you don’t have to stay. You asked me last night if what I’m doing is dangerous, and I need you to know, Alfred, that yes, this is dangerous,” the Doctor explained.
“Then I’ll be careful,” Alfie assured, “You’re the boss.”
“Don’t call me that,” the Doctor glared with a playful smirk on her face as she led the way into the connecting corridor. Alfie felt desperate to impress the Doctor, but at the same time, she already felt like a friend. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Picking up another human was not something the Doctor had planned on doing. As much as she valued company, she had been burned so many times by loving and losing humans. People. Valued members of her team. Not only did she want to avoid putting anyone in danger, but she was also protecting herself. The life of the Doctor wasn’t easy nor safe.
Despite that, the Doctor couldn’t help appreciating Alfie’s charm. He appeared good-natured, and his inquisitive nature showed promise. The Doctor knew she had to keep him safe, but there was potential for a strong team dynamic, and at least in the short term, she could use that to her advantage.
The epicentre of everything strange happening in Manchester appeared to be Langer’s Pharmacy, an independent pharmacist located in the main shopping centre. Quite what was happening, the Doctor hadn’t yet figured out. There had to be some clues inside.
“What’s so special about this place?” Alfie questioned as they walked towards the pharmacy.
“I’m not sure yet,” the Doctor answered truthfully, “Isn’t that intriguing? This pharmacy opened eighteen months ago, and it’s radiating artron energy in a way something on Earth shouldn’t.”
“What’s artron energy?” Alfie looked perplexed, but he was asking the right questions and hadn’t been scared off. Yet.
“Energy from the time vortex. Whatever’s here is not from this time, and getting here must have taken a hell of a lot of power,” the Doctor elaborated.
“Time travel?” Alfie picked up on a key detail.
“Do you believe me?” the Doctor checked. She knew humans well enough to know that some would deny the very facts in front of them.
“Yes,” Alfie said, doubting himself as he spoke, “So, wait, those guards aren’t what we’re looking for?”
“They’re just foot soldiers,” the Doctor explained, “Dealing with any potential threats.”
As they reached the pharmacy, the Doctor strolled straight up to the counter. The only person inside the pharmacy was the shop assistant. He was a man, who looked young, but the Doctor was never very good at assessing human ages. At least, he looked no older than Alfie. Unzipping her jacket pocket, she pulled out her secret weapon, encased in a rectangular black leather pouch, and confidently held it up to him without saying a word.
“Um, hello, Ms. Smith. I didn’t realise we were expecting an inspection today,” he quivered after reading the inside of the pouch.
“Yes, surprise drop-in. My assistant Alfred and I would like to speak to your superior,” the Doctor improvised. Sure enough., the boy scuttled off to find someone with more authority, which couldn’t have been hard, the Doctor supposed.
“Inspectors? What does that thing say? Is Smith your real name?” Alfie was confused, understandably given human technology was hardly expansive.
“No, and it says whatever I want it to say. It’s called psychic paper,” the Doctor explained, “And this,” she swapped the leather wallet for her most trusty gadget, “…is called a sonic screwdriver.”
“You locked the door with that last night,” Alfie recognised the metal device, perfectly shaped to fit in the Doctor’s hand, “Wildest screwdriver I’ve ever seen.”
“Well spotted,” the Doctor commented, “It has many uses, and right now,” she pressed the button, activating the blue light on the tip alongside its gentle monotonous whir, “…is picking up an enormous amount of artron energy here. This is definitely the epicentre, but why?”
“Um, Doctor,” Alfie’s voice quivered in a way the Doctor had never heard before. Something was different. Something had changed. Quickly, she rotated to observe the far end of the pharmacy. The shop assistant had returned, stood in the doorway marked “staff only”, but he looked even more nervous than before. His eyes displayed a distinctive fear that the Doctor could recognise anywhere.
“The manager says now is not a good time,” he stuttered. As the sentence concluded, the colour drained from the boy’s face and his eyes drifted shut before he slumped to the floor with a harsh thud.
“What the hell?” Alfie was horrified. He rushed over to check for a pulse before exhaling a hopeless sigh, “Why did they have to kill him?”
“Humans are puppets,” the Doctor realised, her brain working on overtime to figure out what they were dealing with, “He was a toy, and the game’s over.”
“And now he’s dead,” Alfie’s face looked crushed. It was obvious he was a fish out of water, but they had no time to grieve someone they barely knew.
Instinctively, the Doctor spun back around. She knew enough time had to have passed. Sure enough, there they were. The two guards had caught up to them, and they were blocking the exit.
“You go left, I go right,” Alfie whispered, thinking fast. The Doctor nodded. “Now,” Alfie commanded. Together, they segued around the guards and made a run for it. The Doctor was desperate to formulate a plan, but it was impossible without knowing what they were up against.
Fatigue was kicking in, but Alfie kept pushing through. His legs were exhausted from running so much, but with the guards pursuing them slowly but surely, he had no intention of stopping for a rest until they were securely out of harm’s way for a moment.
Swerving in and out of elderly people slowly browsing on their Wednesday late morning trip out, Alfie led the Doctor into the department store at the far end. He knew Eastbrook like the back of his hand, and there was no doubt that such a spacious store, with multiple floors, was the easiest place to lose them. His sole focus was on getting away safely; processing everything the Doctor had said could wait.
Ducking behind an aisle filled with an array of kitchen equipment, Alfie tried to catch his breath. Sport was never his forte, and PE was the only lesson he ever bunked at school, particularly when cross country was on the agenda.
Nevertheless, Alfie was nervous. If the guards caught up to them, it would have been bad news. His plan had to work perfectly. The Doctor had been in charge of every conversation they’d had, but this time, Alfie had led the way. He felt pressure to impress her, despite still knowing very little about who she was.
Peering over the top, Alfie’s eyes bulged with fear. He turned to the Doctor to whisper, “They’ve got guns.”
“I told you it would be dangerous,” the Doctor replied, “Get out of here. I can handle this.”
“I’ve known this place my whole life. Me and my friend Matty used to hang out here after school to avoid doing my homework. I know the best hiding places,” Alfie assured, “I want to help.” A pause followed, and the Doctor nodded, accepting his offer.
“We need to lure one of them into the changing rooms,” Alfie began to detail his plan.
“Why?” the Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“Trust me. Everything’s too exposed here,” Alfie cryptically explained. He peeped upwards again. One guard was walking in their direction. Whether it had seen them, Alfie wasn’t sure, but they needed to think fast.
“Alright, you get over there and be ready, I’ll cover you,” the Doctor suggested. Without hesitation, the Doctor leapt up, catching the guard’s eye immediately, “I don’t think you want to make a scene in public.” She appeared unfazed, though her hand was tucked into the same jacket pocket that she kept her sonic screwdriver in.
Remaining on his knees, Alfie crawled to the end of the aisle, flashing an awkward yet friendly smile to an elderly lady on his way past. With a little more distance between him and the guard, he stood up and briskly walked to the changing rooms, aiming not to attract any additional attention. Nevertheless, Alfie couldn’t deny that he was buzzing inside. It was just the thrill his life had been in desperate need of.
Placing trust in Alfie should have been difficult, but the Doctor was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was. He was like a cute puppy or an adorable Adipose: keen to please and entirely naïve. Despite the unusual hesitation on their way into Eastbrook, and the even more unusual circumstances under which they met, Alfie appeared sincere, and most importantly, committed to the mission.
Therefore, being the bait while Alfie organised a plan was a no-brainer. The Doctor had faith in her ability to talk her way out of any – well, almost any – situation she found herself in. Talking was her secret weapon, after all, and every detail she could squeeze out of a conversation was one step closer to finding the solution.
“So, who are you?” the Doctor questioned. No response. The guard’s expression remained blank, his human eyes thankfully back in view instead of the unsettling black void.
“Come on, talk to me. If you’re going to kill me anyway, you may as well answer my questions. Call it a dying woman’s wish,” she persuaded, “Who do you work for?”
“I am an agent of the Sarmbud,” the guard replied, though its mouth didn’t move, and the voice was unnaturally deep for a human body.
“Telepathy. A little invasive, I find,” the Doctor remarked, keen to keep conversation flowing while her brain hurried to make sense of each new detail, “I thought the Sarmbud were a myth, I’ve never heard of anyone ever encountering them.”
“The Sarmbud are exterminators, nobody who meets them survives,” the guard added.
“Exterminators? No, that makes it sound like they can be hired. If the rumours are correct, the Sarmbud commit mass genocide in the cruellest way possible, by infiltrating a planet and turning its inhabitants against each other,” the Doctor recalled, “So why are you sat inside a pharmacy? Wait, wait one moment. That’s not actually a pharmacy, is it? It just looks like a pharmacy.”
No response, but the silence told the Doctor all she needed to know. She had pieced it together. She knew what they were dealing with. Now was her moment.
“Oh, and one more thing,” the Doctor continued, “You shouldn’t have answered my questions, because I now know precisely which route I need to follow to escape. Thank you!”
Flashing a quick smirk, the Doctor quickly pressed the button of the sonic screwdriver. Sparks flew out of the guard’s gun, rendering it useless. Immediately, she launched into a sprint, swerving around customers, leaping over abandoned baskets and items on the floor, powering straight towards the changing rooms in the back corner. Glancing behind, the guard as following, though its pace never grew beyond a brisk walk. Regardless, the plan was working.
As the changing rooms grew closer, the Doctor could see the burgundy curtains drawn across each one, tucked away in a largely enclosed corner of the shop. Alfie’s head poked out from behind one of the curtains alongside a hand gesturing to the cubicle on his right.
Following the instructions, the Doctor slipped behind the curtain and closed it behind her. Inside, a long mirror reminded the Doctor of how dazzling she looked in her new outfit, though the abandoned bra on the peg beside her ruined the vibe.
The volume of footsteps began to increase. The Doctor kept her eyes on the floor below the curtain. Two black boots stood outside, facing inwards. The guard was there. It had found her. It violently yanked the curtain open, exposing the Doctor as it stepped inside the cubicle. Whatever Alfie had planned needed to happen quickly.
“Stand back!” Alfie commanded, peering over the top of the dividing wall. The curtain rail slammed down, whacking the guard on the head, its body slumping to the ground beneath the curtain. The Doctor paused, catching her breath, before checking the guard’s pulse. He was alive, but out cold. For now, they were safe.
“That was the plan?” the Doctor glanced upwards to make eye contact with Alfie, “Not bad.”
“That was step one,” Alfie revealed, “I’m coming round. Give me a minute to change.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but so far, Alfie’s plan had worked a treat. With his quick-thinking, and the answers she had procured, they had more than just a shot of getting to the bottom of the Sarmbud’s plan.
Alfie’s heart was beating vigorously. His palms were sweaty and the uniform he was wearing was way too hot and stuffy for anyone to be comfortable in. On paper, his job should have been straightforward, but the conditions were making it anything but.
The most essential part was making sure he stayed in character. Wearing the guard’s suit wouldn’t work if he didn’t walk with the same menacingly slow pace or keep his face fully expressionless. The pressure was even higher once the other guard rejoined him, too. There was no room for error, but to Alfie’s relief, the guard hadn’t suspected anything.
Walking calmly in front of them was the Doctor. The concept was simple: trick whoever, or whatever, was in charge into thinking the Doctor had been captured. It was the fastest way to get deeper inside the pharmacy, and get up close to the brains behind the operation. With any luck, the Doctor would know what to do from that point onwards, because Alfie certainly didn’t.
Side-by-side, Alfie paced alongside the guard through the empty, unmanned pharmacy, straight to the far “staff-only” door. The other guard stepped in front on their way through, sandwiching the Doctor between them. Alfie remained in character throughout; this was the moment where it mattered most.
A short corridor followed, dimply lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling, but otherwise uninteresting, leading to a single metal door at the far end which slid open automatically as they approached.
Inside was breathtaking. Alfie had to be careful not to show his amazement, but it was difficult when he hadn’t seen anything like it before. Gone was the cheap, tacky display furniture and the clinical white colour of the pharmacy, replaced by a metallic, futuristic design resembling some sort of control room. A central pillar with consoles surrounding it was the focal point of the room, with round walls curved around the circumference, meeting at the top of the blue glowing pillar. Wires and cables covered the mesh floor, with all kinds of pipes and machinery dimly lit below. Internally, Alfie could hardly believe his eyes. Externally, he had to pretend it was the most normal thing he had ever seen.
“Okay,” the Doctor spoke up, taking a closer look at the console, “This is almost passable. If I didn’t know better, I could have been fooled. Where is your leader, then? I’ve got feedback. Constructive criticism, let’s call it.”
The lights began to lower. In the shadows, Alfie could see something. A creature, with a black, leathery head. He couldn’t make out a face, but the image was blurry and flickering, like one of the VHS tapes his mum used to watch.
“Am I addressing the Sarmbud?” the Doctor remained confident, unfazed by the eerie sight in front of her. Quite what the Sarmbud was, Alfie had no idea, but he had to save his questions for later.
“I represent the Sarmbud,” a voice replied, but the shrouded figure hadn’t moved, remaining just out of sight behind the console. It was like its words were being beamed directly into Alfie’s brain. Telepathy was real? Alfie’s day was getting more interesting by the second, “Identify yourself.”
“My name is the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord. You know, the race that invented TARDISes. That’s what this ship is supposed to replicate, correct? A jumble sale attempt at making a TARDIS. The dimensions are holding for now but how long until they’re leaking to the exterior? I’d say six months,” the Doctor commented. Alfie couldn’t make sense of anything. What was a TARDIS, or a Time Lord? That made it sound like the Doctor wasn’t human either, which was outlandish, Alfie told himself. Whether he believed himself or not was a different matter altogether.
“The ship is functional, though your expertise is required,” the Sarmbud replied.
“Maybe it is, but you’re not getting it. Don’t insult my intelligence, we both know I’m not staying here. The amount of artron energy this ship is leaking is dangerous,” the Doctor detailed.
“This planet does not matter. All lifeforms will cease and this ship will be unnecessary,” the Sarmbud continued.
“How do you escape, then? What’s the big plan?” the Doctor pondered, “Oh, of course. You see, sometimes, it takes me a little longer to get the hint, because I can’t believe how stupid the idea is.” Alfie had to try and not chuckle, but the Doctor was owning the floor and it wasn’t even close.
“Your choice is clear. Fix this shop, or you will give us your own,” the Sarmbud laid out the terms.
“And all life on this planet is destroyed regardless,” the Doctor added. Alfie was horrified. Neither option sounded like a win, “I’ll help you. I can make this work, I think.”
The Doctor stepped up to the console, its panels covered in items which could easily have been taken from his mum’s kitchen drawers. She puled a lever, pressed a couple of buttons and turned a dial, appearing as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
“I’ve deposited the excess artron energy into the core, which should hold it for now,” the Doctor explained, “The rest will come once I’ve moved the ship off-world. We can find a barren planet which poses no risk to life if this repair goes wrong, and you will then have a ship of your own to explore the stars. You don’t have to kill anyone else.”
“The Sarmbud are exterminators. It is what we do,” the voice remained firm.
“I thought you’d say that. I’m sorry, but I offered you a chance, and you didn’t take it,” the Doctor shrugged, “I didn’t deposit the artron energy. I’ve set the dimensions to fold in on themselves in about, oh yes, thirty seconds. I don’t play games.”
“You cannot escape. The guards will ensure you die in here too, Doctor,” the Sarmbud threatened. The walls of the ship shook, losing their stability, as dust fell from the central column. Alfie was nervous. Time was running out.
“The stupidity continues. You didn’t even notice,” the Doctor smirked, pressing another button. The guard beside Alfie collapsed with a thud, “I’ve deactivated your guards, but one of them was otherwise engaged anyway. Alfred, now!”
Immediately, Alfie reached his hand out to the Doctor. They went in together, and they had to escape together, too. They ran side-by-side back into the corridor, past the collapsing structure, into the pharmacy, and out onto the Eastbrook concourse. Grinding to a halt, they both spun back around to see the pharmacy shrink inwards, leaving a mess of debris in the space it previously occupied.
“Woah,” Alfie said, for want of a better expression, “That guard will be waking up.”
“Don’t worry, I dealt with both guards at the same time. Not our problem,” the Doctor confirmed.
“Wait, why did nobody else react to that?” he commented, noticing that every passing shopper was oblivious to an entire shop collapsing in on itself.
“The ship had a perception filter to make it appear normal,” the Doctor answered, “And most of them are too attached to their phones.”
“True,” Alfie chuckled, “I have so many questions, but Doctor, I need to know. Who are you?”
No reply. Alfie looked beside him, and then all around. The Doctor had gone. Alfie sighed. That couldn’t have been it, could it?
Another lap of the car park completed as he reached the top level, Alfie felt dejected. There was no sign, and there hadn’t been any sign for the past week. Coming back felt pointless. There was no way to track down someone like the Doctor.
Returning to normality had been a challenge. How could Alfie be expected to slot back into his regular, mundane life as if nothing had happened? The hardest part was not telling anyone what had happened. Even if he wanted to, who would believe him? Even his mum and Matty would have thought he was insane. He had learned so much, and the Doctor had opened his eyes to stuff that was way beyond what he thought he knew. He was desperate to see the Doctor again, even just once.
Alfie sighed. Perhaps it was time to go home? There was nothing more he could do. Coming to the Eastbrook car park every day wasn’t sustainable, and he had no other leads. It was time to move on with his life. Reluctantly, he made his way back down the slope, taking his phone out to select a song to listen to. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the door to the stairwell. An image flashed into his mind. That blue police box. Alfie had forgotten all about it, but that was one mystery that had remained unsolved.
Curious, Alfie entered the stairwell and sped down a few flights. No sign of the box. He peered over the banister to see if he could spot it on a different level, but there was still no sign. Alfie was intrigued, but the box was another dead end. A final glimmer of hope vanished.
As Alfie went to exit the stairwell, he noticed a draught against his skin. A draught that accelerated, growing in strength around Alfie in the strangest manner. Then it became clear. A shape faded into view, growing in clarity, each detail became more specific with each whir of its accompanying groaning engine sound. It was just what Alfie had hoped for.
The blue box was back.
The noise ceased as the box fully arrived. Alfie’s mind was blown. He knew something was strange about that box, but he wouldn’t ever have guessed that.
The right-hand side door clicked open. An invitation inside. Alfie felt nervous, but the rush of adrenaline in his body spurred him on. He had to see inside. His gut told him this could be what he was waiting for.
Nothing could have prepared Alfie for the astonishing sight inside the box. In front of him was a vast space, not unlike the spaceship he had seen the week before. The walls curved round, circling up to the central column, itself surrounded by console panels. It was warmly lit by soft orange roundels covering the full wall space, giving the place a much more homely feel than the other ship. He was stood on a walkway up to the console, which had a couple more connecting walkways that circled around the interior towards circular arched doorways. Below him, on the lower level, was an array of items, some of which Alfie had never seen before, but others were much more familiar, such as a guitar and a long colourful stripy scarf.
“Woah,” Alfie could hardly find the words to describe the room he had stepped into. Leaning one hand on the console with the other on her hip, the Doctor met eyes with him, a knowing grin on her face, “It’s bigger on the inside.”
“Damn right. This is the real deal,” the Doctor explained as Alfie stepped slowly across the walkway, “Not that pathetic attempt the Sarmbud cobbled together.”
“This is amazing,” Alfie’s eyes were wide, attempting to take everything in. He was in awe. The ship was beautiful, and so finely detailed. The Doctor was right: the Sarmbud ship had nothing on this, “Wait, so this is your…what was it called?”
“TARDIS,” the Doctor answered, “Time And Relative Dimension In Space.”
“So that makes you an alien?” Alfie checked.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” the Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“No, not at all,” Alfie quickly assured, “I was looking for you. It’s been a week.”
“Has it? I’m sorry. The TARDIS isn’t always as accurate as I’d like. The Sarmbud’s ship had left an alarming amount of artron energy, so I had to scoop it up and store it safely inside the core,” the Doctor elaborated, “I was always coming back for you, Alfred.”
“You were? Does that mean…” Alfie sheepishly tried to pluck up the courage to ask the vital question, “…that I can come with you?”
“All of time and space is out there, Alfred. All that has happened, all that ever will happen. We can go anywhere and everywhere you want,” the Doctor continued.
“Will it be dangerous?” Alfie queried.
“Yes,” the Doctor bluntly replied.
“Okay,” Alfie accepted, unsurprised by the response, “My mum will wonder where I am.”
“This is a time machine. On a good day, I can bring you back thirty seconds after we leave,” the Doctor explained. Alfie’s gut was spurring him on. This was the most incredible opportunity he’d ever been offered. He would have been daft to turn it down.
“Do I need a passport?” Alfie chuckled. The Doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the console before grabbing hold of a lever.
“Are you ready?” she grinned, “You’d better hold on. Tight.”
The Doctor pulled the lever. The TARDIS jolted violently. Alfie’s hands gripped the console as tightly as he could. He had no idea what was coming next, but he knew it would be the biggest adventure of his life.
“I’m not sure what happened. It just vanished overnight,” Miss Sharma, Eastbrook’s head of security explained. Martha’s eyes widened, “The CCTV footage doesn’t exist. It was working just fine, then it cut out. When it resumed, the pharmacy was gone.”
“Has anything else unusual been reported around here?” Martha queried, casting a glance over the space that was once the pharmacy and taking some photos with her iPad.
“Rather a lot, actually,” she continued, “We found a body in another store. One of my staff. The police took it away, but his eyes were pitch black. I’ve never seen anything like it before. They told me they would deal with it, but there’s been no update. That’s why I called you. You’re beyond the police, they say.”
“We can look into it for you,” Martha nodded, keeping tight-lipped about the specifics.
“It gets weirder, though. He wasn’t wearing his uniform when he was found. His clothes matched those of a young man who was found stealing paracetamol from Langer’s Pharmacy the day before. He was here again, with a woman,” Miss Sharma added, “I’ve sent you the footage, the police have it too.”
“Thank you ma’am, we can take it from here,” Martha flashed a friendly smile before Miss Sharma scuttled off. She turned back to face the empty space, now cleaned up and covered with a cloth that was temporarily draped across the floor. It was one of the most intriguing cases Martha had heard of in a while; she couldn’t possibly have ignored it.
“There was a lot of artron energy here recently,” Gwen informed, showing Martha the gadget in her hand, labelled with a red ‘T’ on its back.
“It’s not just that. I think she was here,” Martha tapped away at her iPad, bringing up the CCTV, “He was caught stealing,” Martha pointed to the young lad in the picture, “But she was there too, just like in the car park. She was the last person seen going into Langer’s Pharmacy.”
“Really? You really think that’s her?” Gwen queried, her thick Welsh accent raising in pitch.
“It must be. The Doctor was here,” Martha smiled. It had been a long time, but she had never been more ready to reunite with her old friend.
Whoever the woman was, she seemed important. Her shoulders were relaxed, and her stride was purposeful, but she didn’t look like staff. The device in her hand wasn’t exactly a set of keys, either.
“Hey, don’t ignore me. Who are you?” Alfie repeated, raising the volume, jogging to catch up to her pace.
“Wrong question,” she finally answered, albeit not in the way Alfie wanted. He contemplated. What was the right question? He had so many whirring around his brain.
“Why were you there, at the door?” Alfie questioned.
“Getting closer,” she fed back, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as they neared the far end of the car park.
Alfie thought as hard as he could. What was the significance of that door? What had attracted her attention? What hadn’t he considered?
“Who were those guards?” Alfie selected as his next attempt.
“Finally,” she halted on the spot and swivelled to face Alfie, “I don’t have time to explain, but they’re not security guards. You almost fell into a trap.”
“What?” Alfie was perplexed. How were the answers only providing more questions?
“It’s not important. I said you almost fell into a trap, which means you didn’t, which means you can go back to whatever it is you do every day,” she stated, before resuming her strut down to the level below. Alfie sighed. Whoever she was, he couldn’t help feeling intrigued by her. That couldn’t be the end.
“Are they dangerous?” Alfie threw one final question in. One final attempt to squeeze some information out of her.
CLANG! The door gave way. Alfie glanced back to see the guards speed-walking towards them. The woman turned a corner as if nothing could faze her. Alfie picked up the pace, following her down the slope; he couldn’t exactly turn back.
At the bottom of the slope, Alfie looked around, but there was no sign of her. She had vanished into thin air. How could anyone do that? Alfie was perplexed, but he couldn’t hang around to find out. Footsteps on the level above were growing louder. Alfie had to run, and fast.
It was unusual for Shania to be the last member of staff in the pharmacy after closing time. She knew without any doubt that she wasn’t trusted to cash up and close the shutters alone, her meetings with HR had confirmed that. More than once, she had been called in first thing in the morning to discuss her drunken social media posts, where she had revealed her true feelings about her job, and her colleagues. Shania wasn’t bothered, though. The job was a stopgap until she found something better. Something with more money, which wasn’t much of a challenge.
The pharmacy that night had been quiet and boring, as per usual, until the last few minutes before they closed. Shania was sure that guy was stealing something, so she had to alert security. She followed protocol to the letter. She had been on her best behaviour for a while, so perhaps they were offering her a chance to prove herself when deciding on that week’s rota?
Till closed and lights off, Shania was ready to duck under the partially closed shutter and fully close it from the outside. A warm bath was calling her name, with a glass of rosé and one of the bath bombs she had received as a Christmas present.
A creak came from inside the shop. Shania spun round. The lights were off. She couldn’t see much. It probably wasn’t anything, though. She knew the shop was empty. The thief was their last customer of the night, and her bossy co-worker Jasmine had slipped out to get the early bus home.
Another creak. A louder creak. Shania felt sick. All she wanted to do was leave, but she couldn’t lock up if someone was inside. How did they get in? Who even were they?
Shania switched her phone torch on. At the end of the closest aisle, she could see it. A dark figure. Barely visible, but the black, leathery head was a giveaway.
“Hello,” Shania called, “Are you okay? We’re closing now, you need to leave.”
No reply. It didn’t move. It kept staring at her. That’s what Shania thought, anyway. She couldn’t see any eyes, but why wouldn’t it have eyes? It was a person in a silly costume playing a practical joke.
“I said we’re closing, please leave,” Shania repeated. Against her better judgement, she inched closer. One step at a time, nearing the intruder. It didn’t move, eerily watching her every step.
Shania’s phone torch switched off. Agitated, she checked her screen. Five percent of battery life left. Not enough to run the torch. Now, she was scared.
“I’m going to call security,” Shania said, keen to get out of the shop as soon as possible.
Another creak.
Then another.
Followed by a crash.
Items were falling off the shelves, collapsing to the floor. The noise was getting nearer. Shania started to run. The exit wasn’t far away, and once she was out of the shop, she would have light on her side again.
The noises grew louder, and closer. Shania lunged for the automatic doors, but before she could even reach the security scanners, something clutched onto her leg. Shania screamed in pain, its claws digging deep into her ankle.
“Please, let me go,” she winced, fear encompassing her body.
With a thud, Shania collapsed to the floor. She was being dragged back into the store. In the process, she’d dropped her phone. Shania screamed again, the loudest scream she had ever let out.
Alfie exhaled the most relieved sigh as soon as the front door clicked shut. The sight of his home felt particularly comforting after his closest call yet. He had sprinted most of the way home, regularly checking over his shoulder to verify he wasn’t being followed. To his reprieve, the last time he had seen the guards was when the door crashed open in the car park, so he must have given them the slip.
Nevertheless, Alfie had two packs of paracetamol securely in his tote bag. He had succeeded, at the end of the day, and most importantly, he wasn’t letting his mum down. Their flat wasn’t big or glamorous, but it didn’t need to be. She had worked extremely hard to make their home everything they needed it to be, so the least he could do was step up to remove some of the financial load from her shoulders.
“You were a while,” a voice called from the kitchen, commenting not out of criticism, but out of concern.
“Sorry, I went for a walk on the way back,” Alfie responded with a white lie to prevent any worry, not that he knew how to summarise the events of that evening anyway.
“Did you forget about your guest?” she called again. Alfie’s stomach dropped. He had entirely forgotten about the plans he’d made, and with how exhausted he was, he wasn’t sure he was up for socialising anymore.
Sloping into the kitchen, Alfie met the warm, inviting gaze of his mum, Gemma, as she brushed the tea towel over a plate. She gave birth to him at just eighteen, and she raised him on her own for most of his life, which made her immensely strong in Alfie’s eyes and, even in her dressing gown, she still looked dazzling, too. Her golden auburn hair slid just below her shoulders, and a dark pink lipstick decorated her otherwise make-up-free face.
To her left, helping with the washing up, was Alfie’s friend Matty. Matty was practically family after how long they had known each other, and Alfie trusted him implicitly. His jet-black hair was pushed back to look slicked, but Matty never quite mastered the art of appearing smooth.
“What time do you call this?” Matty smirked playfully.
“Mate, it’s been twenty minutes,” Alfie smiled while defending himself, “Don’t act like I’ve been missing for weeks.”
“My time is precious,” Matty grinned.
“You’re always late. I bet you were late today too,” Alfie accused.
“I’ve barely been here five minutes,” Matty accepted, and they both laughed the way they always did together.
“Love, did you get the paracetamol?” Gemma interjected.
“Of course, here,” Alfie handed the two packs over from his bag.
“Thank you, love. My back’s killing me,” Gemma winced. She had pulled a muscle while stretching to clean behind the sofa a couple of days prior and her back had been delicate ever since.
“Go and sit down, I’ll finish up here, and I’ll put the kettle on,” Alfie offered, moving a couple of dirty bowls to the sink.
“You’re an angel. Your tea’s on the side for when you’re done, I’ve told Matty he can’t touch it,” Gemma winked, “But I think there’s a few tinnies in the fridge, help yourselves.”
“Thanks mum,” Alfie beamed.
“Alright,” Matty quietly interrogated once Gemma had left the tiny kitchen, “What’s the deal?”
“Huh?” Alfie played dumb, trying to act normal.
“You never go for walks,” Matty spotted, “You nicked the paracetamol, didn’t you?”
“Shush, dude,” Alfie panicked. He couldn’t let his mum hear that. She didn’t need to know he didn’t actually pay for them.
“I know it’s been hard since your contract wasn’t renewed, but all you need to do is ask if you need help,” Matty reminded.
“You’re broke, too,” Alfie raised an eyebrow.
“Well obviously, neither of us would be living in this dive of an estate if we had money,” Matty chuckled, “But I do have a couple of packs of paracetamol. They’d have been yours if you asked.”
“Point taken,” Alfie nodded.
“Anything else on your mind? I’m getting quite good at this agony aunt thing,” Matty wondered with a cheeky smirk. Alfie paused. He needed to talk to someone about the rest of his evening, and Matty was the only person who wouldn’t judge him or think he was losing the plot.
“You know the centre car park?” Alfie began.
“Yeah, of course. My uncle’s a security guard there,” Matty mentioned, much to Alfie’s intrigue.
“Wait, he is?” Alfie had a brainwave, “Do you think he could do me a favour?”
“I locked up myself last night, the place was empty, I’m sure. We often get kids in there. I don’t know how they get in,” Geoff explained, loading up the CCTV. He had a tiny office on the ground floor of the car park with a surprising amount of paperwork for a security guard. Alfie felt claustrophobic even with only the two of them in the room.
“It was maybe half an hour before the car park shut,” Alfie explained, “And she was no kid.”
“Matthew mentioned,” Geoff explained. Alfie had met Geoff a couple of times before and he had always been an eccentric character, and something of a loner, but always friendly, and he didn’t hesitate to offer a hand when Matty called the night before, “She doesn’t work here, I can tell you that much. Why do you want to find her?”
“Because I think she was doing something dangerous,” Alfie replied with a half-truth. What she was up to, Alfie had no idea, but the lack of a reply to Alfie’s final question told him all he needed to know about how dangerous those guards were. Whilst his curiosity was high, Alfie truly did want to help; he didn’t know if she even made it out safely.
“Alright, I’ve rewound to six o’clock last night. Take as long as you need, I’ve got to do my rounds,” Geoff explained. Alfie nodded, focusing on the footage in front.
6:02pm. Alfie spotted her, just outside the door he fell through. She couldn’t have arrived long before that, surely? He rewound the footage slowly, trying to watch all six screens of footage at the same time.
6:00pm. One of the cameras was faulty, but Alfie was sure it was working before he rewound. Even more slowly, he fast-forwarded. Perhaps it was just a dodgy camera? Alfie needed to be sure.
6:01pm. The image on that camera had returned. Its image was of a stairwell at the far end of the car park, the level below where Alfie had met her, and right by where he lost her. Except, the stairwell was barely visible. A large blue box was blocking the camera. Alfie couldn’t see much, but across the top, it read “Police Public Call Box.” It was a little worn and its entire design seemed dated, but through the grey translucent windows near the top, Alfie could see light.
Alfie was intrigued. On its own, it was strange enough, but a random police box very close to where he last saw the woman? He couldn’t resist the urge to check it out.
Up close, the blue box had an unusual feel to it. Alfie could hear a gentle whir, as if it were an active electrical appliance. Everything about it felt genuine, from the wooden doors to the glass windows. A tug on the front panel – which had instructions concluding with ‘Pull to Open’ – displayed an old-fashioned phone, surprisingly polished and shiny, but with no wires connecting it to anything.
Alfie was baffled, but by nothing more than its positioning. It blocked access to the downward stairwell, so why had it been placed there? Geoff hadn’t mentioned anything unusual, but there was no way he’d have allowed a box like that to be placed there, right? That said, Alfie didn’t have any alternative explanations. Phone boxes didn’t just appear out of thin air.
In what felt like a moment of madness, Alfie knocked three times on the door. He didn’t expect anybody to step out, but there wasn’t a rule book for random phone boxes in car park stairwells. As expected, no answer. Alfie tried opening the door, but no luck: firmly locked shut.
Stepping back, Alfie sighed. The box felt like a waste of his time, but the mystery of where the woman vanished to remained. There was no space for her to get down the stairs, but could she have gone upstairs to hide? That was his top theory, and the only one with any credence to it.
The stairwell door creaked open behind Alfie. In the corner of his eye, he saw what he was most worried about: black uniform and boots with an obnoxiously green hi-vis jacket. The security guards had found him, but how? He hadn’t stepped foot in Eastbrook that day; he knew better than to tempt fate.
“I don’t want any trouble, I promise,” Alfie slowly rotated, but his panic only grew when he saw their eyes. They were different to the night before. Regular human eyes on both of their faces had been replaced by pitch black empty holes. Alfie had never seen anything like that before. He was terrified. He backed up against the wall, the guards moving in front of the police box to block the stairwell door entirely.
“Up here,” a voice called from up the stairs. A voice Alfie recognised. A voice of hope. Glancing up, there she was. That same woman, wearing the same outfit, reaching out a hand towards Alfie, “Now!”
Alfie didn’t need to be asked twice. He sprinted upstairs to catch up to her before they carried on upwards, Alfie entirely placing his trust in this mystery woman he still knew nothing about. Regardless, she had saved his life for a second time, and Alfie couldn’t help feeling indebted.
One level up, they ran back out into the car park. Alfie was out of breath, but he knew they couldn’t slow down. The only way out was to go back down, whether by the same ramps the cars use, or through Eastbrook. Both options had risks, and Alfie wasn’t sure which one was less nerve-wracking.
“What’s the plan?” Alfie panted, desperate to have some idea of what was going on.
“Stay alive,” she replied assertively, barely out of breath, “You’re very persistent.”
“I wanted to check you were okay. You just vanished,” Alfie explained, taking deep breaths whenever he could manage.
“And you wanted to know more,” she noted, “Curiosity is knowledge. Don’t be ashamed.”
“Okay, yes, I’m really curious. Nothing in the last twenty-four hours has made sense,” Alfie admitted.
As she slowed down to a brisk walk, Alfie followed her lead. They were approaching the door back into Eastbrook where they met the night before.
“People often invent their own theories when they don’t understand something,” she theorised, “You came back to get more information.”
“Is that a problem?” Alfie raised an eyebrow.
“No, quite the opposite. Keep an open mind. Stay inquisitive. Never think you’ve seen everything,” she advised, “What’s your name?”
“Alfred Sutton, though everyone’s always called me Alfie,” he replied.
“What’s wrong with Alfred?” she questioned.
“It’s old-fashioned. It was my mum’s grandad’s name,” Alfie justified.
“And it’s your name. Your identity. Wear it with pride, Alfred,” she encouraged with a kind, knowing smile.
“So, what’s your name?” Alfie wondered.
“The Doctor,” she answered.
“Doctor what?” Alfie queried.
“Just the Doctor,” she clarified.
“What sort of a name is ‘the Doctor’?” Alfie scoffed.
“One I wear with pride,” she confidently answered, firmly putting Alfie in his place. He felt bad for making a joke, but he was impressed. She was intelligent, and she seemed to know what she was doing, which meant she was the right person to be around, “Okay, while we have a head start on those guards, I want to see what they’re meant to be guarding.”
“In there?” Alfie worried, pointing at the door to Eastbrook. He wasn’t sure going back there after the night before was such a good idea.
“Is there a problem?” the Doctor queried.
“No,” Alfie brushed over the problem. His new friend didn’t need to know every single miserable detail of his life, least of all something like that. They had a good rapport and he didn’t want to ruin it.
“Good, because you don’t have to stay. You asked me last night if what I’m doing is dangerous, and I need you to know, Alfred, that yes, this is dangerous,” the Doctor explained.
“Then I’ll be careful,” Alfie assured, “You’re the boss.”
“Don’t call me that,” the Doctor glared with a playful smirk on her face as she led the way into the connecting corridor. Alfie felt desperate to impress the Doctor, but at the same time, she already felt like a friend. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Picking up another human was not something the Doctor had planned on doing. As much as she valued company, she had been burned so many times by loving and losing humans. People. Valued members of her team. Not only did she want to avoid putting anyone in danger, but she was also protecting herself. The life of the Doctor wasn’t easy nor safe.
Despite that, the Doctor couldn’t help appreciating Alfie’s charm. He appeared good-natured, and his inquisitive nature showed promise. The Doctor knew she had to keep him safe, but there was potential for a strong team dynamic, and at least in the short term, she could use that to her advantage.
The epicentre of everything strange happening in Manchester appeared to be Langer’s Pharmacy, an independent pharmacist located in the main shopping centre. Quite what was happening, the Doctor hadn’t yet figured out. There had to be some clues inside.
“What’s so special about this place?” Alfie questioned as they walked towards the pharmacy.
“I’m not sure yet,” the Doctor answered truthfully, “Isn’t that intriguing? This pharmacy opened eighteen months ago, and it’s radiating artron energy in a way something on Earth shouldn’t.”
“What’s artron energy?” Alfie looked perplexed, but he was asking the right questions and hadn’t been scared off. Yet.
“Energy from the time vortex. Whatever’s here is not from this time, and getting here must have taken a hell of a lot of power,” the Doctor elaborated.
“Time travel?” Alfie picked up on a key detail.
“Do you believe me?” the Doctor checked. She knew humans well enough to know that some would deny the very facts in front of them.
“Yes,” Alfie said, doubting himself as he spoke, “So, wait, those guards aren’t what we’re looking for?”
“They’re just foot soldiers,” the Doctor explained, “Dealing with any potential threats.”
As they reached the pharmacy, the Doctor strolled straight up to the counter. The only person inside the pharmacy was the shop assistant. He was a man, who looked young, but the Doctor was never very good at assessing human ages. At least, he looked no older than Alfie. Unzipping her jacket pocket, she pulled out her secret weapon, encased in a rectangular black leather pouch, and confidently held it up to him without saying a word.
“Um, hello, Ms. Smith. I didn’t realise we were expecting an inspection today,” he quivered after reading the inside of the pouch.
“Yes, surprise drop-in. My assistant Alfred and I would like to speak to your superior,” the Doctor improvised. Sure enough., the boy scuttled off to find someone with more authority, which couldn’t have been hard, the Doctor supposed.
“Inspectors? What does that thing say? Is Smith your real name?” Alfie was confused, understandably given human technology was hardly expansive.
“No, and it says whatever I want it to say. It’s called psychic paper,” the Doctor explained, “And this,” she swapped the leather wallet for her most trusty gadget, “…is called a sonic screwdriver.”
“You locked the door with that last night,” Alfie recognised the metal device, perfectly shaped to fit in the Doctor’s hand, “Wildest screwdriver I’ve ever seen.”
“Well spotted,” the Doctor commented, “It has many uses, and right now,” she pressed the button, activating the blue light on the tip alongside its gentle monotonous whir, “…is picking up an enormous amount of artron energy here. This is definitely the epicentre, but why?”
“Um, Doctor,” Alfie’s voice quivered in a way the Doctor had never heard before. Something was different. Something had changed. Quickly, she rotated to observe the far end of the pharmacy. The shop assistant had returned, stood in the doorway marked “staff only”, but he looked even more nervous than before. His eyes displayed a distinctive fear that the Doctor could recognise anywhere.
“The manager says now is not a good time,” he stuttered. As the sentence concluded, the colour drained from the boy’s face and his eyes drifted shut before he slumped to the floor with a harsh thud.
“What the hell?” Alfie was horrified. He rushed over to check for a pulse before exhaling a hopeless sigh, “Why did they have to kill him?”
“Humans are puppets,” the Doctor realised, her brain working on overtime to figure out what they were dealing with, “He was a toy, and the game’s over.”
“And now he’s dead,” Alfie’s face looked crushed. It was obvious he was a fish out of water, but they had no time to grieve someone they barely knew.
Instinctively, the Doctor spun back around. She knew enough time had to have passed. Sure enough, there they were. The two guards had caught up to them, and they were blocking the exit.
“You go left, I go right,” Alfie whispered, thinking fast. The Doctor nodded. “Now,” Alfie commanded. Together, they segued around the guards and made a run for it. The Doctor was desperate to formulate a plan, but it was impossible without knowing what they were up against.
Fatigue was kicking in, but Alfie kept pushing through. His legs were exhausted from running so much, but with the guards pursuing them slowly but surely, he had no intention of stopping for a rest until they were securely out of harm’s way for a moment.
Swerving in and out of elderly people slowly browsing on their Wednesday late morning trip out, Alfie led the Doctor into the department store at the far end. He knew Eastbrook like the back of his hand, and there was no doubt that such a spacious store, with multiple floors, was the easiest place to lose them. His sole focus was on getting away safely; processing everything the Doctor had said could wait.
Ducking behind an aisle filled with an array of kitchen equipment, Alfie tried to catch his breath. Sport was never his forte, and PE was the only lesson he ever bunked at school, particularly when cross country was on the agenda.
Nevertheless, Alfie was nervous. If the guards caught up to them, it would have been bad news. His plan had to work perfectly. The Doctor had been in charge of every conversation they’d had, but this time, Alfie had led the way. He felt pressure to impress her, despite still knowing very little about who she was.
Peering over the top, Alfie’s eyes bulged with fear. He turned to the Doctor to whisper, “They’ve got guns.”
“I told you it would be dangerous,” the Doctor replied, “Get out of here. I can handle this.”
“I’ve known this place my whole life. Me and my friend Matty used to hang out here after school to avoid doing my homework. I know the best hiding places,” Alfie assured, “I want to help.” A pause followed, and the Doctor nodded, accepting his offer.
“We need to lure one of them into the changing rooms,” Alfie began to detail his plan.
“Why?” the Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“Trust me. Everything’s too exposed here,” Alfie cryptically explained. He peeped upwards again. One guard was walking in their direction. Whether it had seen them, Alfie wasn’t sure, but they needed to think fast.
“Alright, you get over there and be ready, I’ll cover you,” the Doctor suggested. Without hesitation, the Doctor leapt up, catching the guard’s eye immediately, “I don’t think you want to make a scene in public.” She appeared unfazed, though her hand was tucked into the same jacket pocket that she kept her sonic screwdriver in.
Remaining on his knees, Alfie crawled to the end of the aisle, flashing an awkward yet friendly smile to an elderly lady on his way past. With a little more distance between him and the guard, he stood up and briskly walked to the changing rooms, aiming not to attract any additional attention. Nevertheless, Alfie couldn’t deny that he was buzzing inside. It was just the thrill his life had been in desperate need of.
Placing trust in Alfie should have been difficult, but the Doctor was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was. He was like a cute puppy or an adorable Adipose: keen to please and entirely naïve. Despite the unusual hesitation on their way into Eastbrook, and the even more unusual circumstances under which they met, Alfie appeared sincere, and most importantly, committed to the mission.
Therefore, being the bait while Alfie organised a plan was a no-brainer. The Doctor had faith in her ability to talk her way out of any – well, almost any – situation she found herself in. Talking was her secret weapon, after all, and every detail she could squeeze out of a conversation was one step closer to finding the solution.
“So, who are you?” the Doctor questioned. No response. The guard’s expression remained blank, his human eyes thankfully back in view instead of the unsettling black void.
“Come on, talk to me. If you’re going to kill me anyway, you may as well answer my questions. Call it a dying woman’s wish,” she persuaded, “Who do you work for?”
“I am an agent of the Sarmbud,” the guard replied, though its mouth didn’t move, and the voice was unnaturally deep for a human body.
“Telepathy. A little invasive, I find,” the Doctor remarked, keen to keep conversation flowing while her brain hurried to make sense of each new detail, “I thought the Sarmbud were a myth, I’ve never heard of anyone ever encountering them.”
“The Sarmbud are exterminators, nobody who meets them survives,” the guard added.
“Exterminators? No, that makes it sound like they can be hired. If the rumours are correct, the Sarmbud commit mass genocide in the cruellest way possible, by infiltrating a planet and turning its inhabitants against each other,” the Doctor recalled, “So why are you sat inside a pharmacy? Wait, wait one moment. That’s not actually a pharmacy, is it? It just looks like a pharmacy.”
No response, but the silence told the Doctor all she needed to know. She had pieced it together. She knew what they were dealing with. Now was her moment.
“Oh, and one more thing,” the Doctor continued, “You shouldn’t have answered my questions, because I now know precisely which route I need to follow to escape. Thank you!”
Flashing a quick smirk, the Doctor quickly pressed the button of the sonic screwdriver. Sparks flew out of the guard’s gun, rendering it useless. Immediately, she launched into a sprint, swerving around customers, leaping over abandoned baskets and items on the floor, powering straight towards the changing rooms in the back corner. Glancing behind, the guard as following, though its pace never grew beyond a brisk walk. Regardless, the plan was working.
As the changing rooms grew closer, the Doctor could see the burgundy curtains drawn across each one, tucked away in a largely enclosed corner of the shop. Alfie’s head poked out from behind one of the curtains alongside a hand gesturing to the cubicle on his right.
Following the instructions, the Doctor slipped behind the curtain and closed it behind her. Inside, a long mirror reminded the Doctor of how dazzling she looked in her new outfit, though the abandoned bra on the peg beside her ruined the vibe.
The volume of footsteps began to increase. The Doctor kept her eyes on the floor below the curtain. Two black boots stood outside, facing inwards. The guard was there. It had found her. It violently yanked the curtain open, exposing the Doctor as it stepped inside the cubicle. Whatever Alfie had planned needed to happen quickly.
“Stand back!” Alfie commanded, peering over the top of the dividing wall. The curtain rail slammed down, whacking the guard on the head, its body slumping to the ground beneath the curtain. The Doctor paused, catching her breath, before checking the guard’s pulse. He was alive, but out cold. For now, they were safe.
“That was the plan?” the Doctor glanced upwards to make eye contact with Alfie, “Not bad.”
“That was step one,” Alfie revealed, “I’m coming round. Give me a minute to change.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but so far, Alfie’s plan had worked a treat. With his quick-thinking, and the answers she had procured, they had more than just a shot of getting to the bottom of the Sarmbud’s plan.
Alfie’s heart was beating vigorously. His palms were sweaty and the uniform he was wearing was way too hot and stuffy for anyone to be comfortable in. On paper, his job should have been straightforward, but the conditions were making it anything but.
The most essential part was making sure he stayed in character. Wearing the guard’s suit wouldn’t work if he didn’t walk with the same menacingly slow pace or keep his face fully expressionless. The pressure was even higher once the other guard rejoined him, too. There was no room for error, but to Alfie’s relief, the guard hadn’t suspected anything.
Walking calmly in front of them was the Doctor. The concept was simple: trick whoever, or whatever, was in charge into thinking the Doctor had been captured. It was the fastest way to get deeper inside the pharmacy, and get up close to the brains behind the operation. With any luck, the Doctor would know what to do from that point onwards, because Alfie certainly didn’t.
Side-by-side, Alfie paced alongside the guard through the empty, unmanned pharmacy, straight to the far “staff-only” door. The other guard stepped in front on their way through, sandwiching the Doctor between them. Alfie remained in character throughout; this was the moment where it mattered most.
A short corridor followed, dimply lit by a single bulb dangling from the ceiling, but otherwise uninteresting, leading to a single metal door at the far end which slid open automatically as they approached.
Inside was breathtaking. Alfie had to be careful not to show his amazement, but it was difficult when he hadn’t seen anything like it before. Gone was the cheap, tacky display furniture and the clinical white colour of the pharmacy, replaced by a metallic, futuristic design resembling some sort of control room. A central pillar with consoles surrounding it was the focal point of the room, with round walls curved around the circumference, meeting at the top of the blue glowing pillar. Wires and cables covered the mesh floor, with all kinds of pipes and machinery dimly lit below. Internally, Alfie could hardly believe his eyes. Externally, he had to pretend it was the most normal thing he had ever seen.
“Okay,” the Doctor spoke up, taking a closer look at the console, “This is almost passable. If I didn’t know better, I could have been fooled. Where is your leader, then? I’ve got feedback. Constructive criticism, let’s call it.”
The lights began to lower. In the shadows, Alfie could see something. A creature, with a black, leathery head. He couldn’t make out a face, but the image was blurry and flickering, like one of the VHS tapes his mum used to watch.
“Am I addressing the Sarmbud?” the Doctor remained confident, unfazed by the eerie sight in front of her. Quite what the Sarmbud was, Alfie had no idea, but he had to save his questions for later.
“I represent the Sarmbud,” a voice replied, but the shrouded figure hadn’t moved, remaining just out of sight behind the console. It was like its words were being beamed directly into Alfie’s brain. Telepathy was real? Alfie’s day was getting more interesting by the second, “Identify yourself.”
“My name is the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord. You know, the race that invented TARDISes. That’s what this ship is supposed to replicate, correct? A jumble sale attempt at making a TARDIS. The dimensions are holding for now but how long until they’re leaking to the exterior? I’d say six months,” the Doctor commented. Alfie couldn’t make sense of anything. What was a TARDIS, or a Time Lord? That made it sound like the Doctor wasn’t human either, which was outlandish, Alfie told himself. Whether he believed himself or not was a different matter altogether.
“The ship is functional, though your expertise is required,” the Sarmbud replied.
“Maybe it is, but you’re not getting it. Don’t insult my intelligence, we both know I’m not staying here. The amount of artron energy this ship is leaking is dangerous,” the Doctor detailed.
“This planet does not matter. All lifeforms will cease and this ship will be unnecessary,” the Sarmbud continued.
“How do you escape, then? What’s the big plan?” the Doctor pondered, “Oh, of course. You see, sometimes, it takes me a little longer to get the hint, because I can’t believe how stupid the idea is.” Alfie had to try and not chuckle, but the Doctor was owning the floor and it wasn’t even close.
“Your choice is clear. Fix this shop, or you will give us your own,” the Sarmbud laid out the terms.
“And all life on this planet is destroyed regardless,” the Doctor added. Alfie was horrified. Neither option sounded like a win, “I’ll help you. I can make this work, I think.”
The Doctor stepped up to the console, its panels covered in items which could easily have been taken from his mum’s kitchen drawers. She puled a lever, pressed a couple of buttons and turned a dial, appearing as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
“I’ve deposited the excess artron energy into the core, which should hold it for now,” the Doctor explained, “The rest will come once I’ve moved the ship off-world. We can find a barren planet which poses no risk to life if this repair goes wrong, and you will then have a ship of your own to explore the stars. You don’t have to kill anyone else.”
“The Sarmbud are exterminators. It is what we do,” the voice remained firm.
“I thought you’d say that. I’m sorry, but I offered you a chance, and you didn’t take it,” the Doctor shrugged, “I didn’t deposit the artron energy. I’ve set the dimensions to fold in on themselves in about, oh yes, thirty seconds. I don’t play games.”
“You cannot escape. The guards will ensure you die in here too, Doctor,” the Sarmbud threatened. The walls of the ship shook, losing their stability, as dust fell from the central column. Alfie was nervous. Time was running out.
“The stupidity continues. You didn’t even notice,” the Doctor smirked, pressing another button. The guard beside Alfie collapsed with a thud, “I’ve deactivated your guards, but one of them was otherwise engaged anyway. Alfred, now!”
Immediately, Alfie reached his hand out to the Doctor. They went in together, and they had to escape together, too. They ran side-by-side back into the corridor, past the collapsing structure, into the pharmacy, and out onto the Eastbrook concourse. Grinding to a halt, they both spun back around to see the pharmacy shrink inwards, leaving a mess of debris in the space it previously occupied.
“Woah,” Alfie said, for want of a better expression, “That guard will be waking up.”
“Don’t worry, I dealt with both guards at the same time. Not our problem,” the Doctor confirmed.
“Wait, why did nobody else react to that?” he commented, noticing that every passing shopper was oblivious to an entire shop collapsing in on itself.
“The ship had a perception filter to make it appear normal,” the Doctor answered, “And most of them are too attached to their phones.”
“True,” Alfie chuckled, “I have so many questions, but Doctor, I need to know. Who are you?”
No reply. Alfie looked beside him, and then all around. The Doctor had gone. Alfie sighed. That couldn’t have been it, could it?
Another lap of the car park completed as he reached the top level, Alfie felt dejected. There was no sign, and there hadn’t been any sign for the past week. Coming back felt pointless. There was no way to track down someone like the Doctor.
Returning to normality had been a challenge. How could Alfie be expected to slot back into his regular, mundane life as if nothing had happened? The hardest part was not telling anyone what had happened. Even if he wanted to, who would believe him? Even his mum and Matty would have thought he was insane. He had learned so much, and the Doctor had opened his eyes to stuff that was way beyond what he thought he knew. He was desperate to see the Doctor again, even just once.
Alfie sighed. Perhaps it was time to go home? There was nothing more he could do. Coming to the Eastbrook car park every day wasn’t sustainable, and he had no other leads. It was time to move on with his life. Reluctantly, he made his way back down the slope, taking his phone out to select a song to listen to. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the door to the stairwell. An image flashed into his mind. That blue police box. Alfie had forgotten all about it, but that was one mystery that had remained unsolved.
Curious, Alfie entered the stairwell and sped down a few flights. No sign of the box. He peered over the banister to see if he could spot it on a different level, but there was still no sign. Alfie was intrigued, but the box was another dead end. A final glimmer of hope vanished.
As Alfie went to exit the stairwell, he noticed a draught against his skin. A draught that accelerated, growing in strength around Alfie in the strangest manner. Then it became clear. A shape faded into view, growing in clarity, each detail became more specific with each whir of its accompanying groaning engine sound. It was just what Alfie had hoped for.
The blue box was back.
The noise ceased as the box fully arrived. Alfie’s mind was blown. He knew something was strange about that box, but he wouldn’t ever have guessed that.
The right-hand side door clicked open. An invitation inside. Alfie felt nervous, but the rush of adrenaline in his body spurred him on. He had to see inside. His gut told him this could be what he was waiting for.
Nothing could have prepared Alfie for the astonishing sight inside the box. In front of him was a vast space, not unlike the spaceship he had seen the week before. The walls curved round, circling up to the central column, itself surrounded by console panels. It was warmly lit by soft orange roundels covering the full wall space, giving the place a much more homely feel than the other ship. He was stood on a walkway up to the console, which had a couple more connecting walkways that circled around the interior towards circular arched doorways. Below him, on the lower level, was an array of items, some of which Alfie had never seen before, but others were much more familiar, such as a guitar and a long colourful stripy scarf.
“Woah,” Alfie could hardly find the words to describe the room he had stepped into. Leaning one hand on the console with the other on her hip, the Doctor met eyes with him, a knowing grin on her face, “It’s bigger on the inside.”
“Damn right. This is the real deal,” the Doctor explained as Alfie stepped slowly across the walkway, “Not that pathetic attempt the Sarmbud cobbled together.”
“This is amazing,” Alfie’s eyes were wide, attempting to take everything in. He was in awe. The ship was beautiful, and so finely detailed. The Doctor was right: the Sarmbud ship had nothing on this, “Wait, so this is your…what was it called?”
“TARDIS,” the Doctor answered, “Time And Relative Dimension In Space.”
“So that makes you an alien?” Alfie checked.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” the Doctor raised an eyebrow.
“No, not at all,” Alfie quickly assured, “I was looking for you. It’s been a week.”
“Has it? I’m sorry. The TARDIS isn’t always as accurate as I’d like. The Sarmbud’s ship had left an alarming amount of artron energy, so I had to scoop it up and store it safely inside the core,” the Doctor elaborated, “I was always coming back for you, Alfred.”
“You were? Does that mean…” Alfie sheepishly tried to pluck up the courage to ask the vital question, “…that I can come with you?”
“All of time and space is out there, Alfred. All that has happened, all that ever will happen. We can go anywhere and everywhere you want,” the Doctor continued.
“Will it be dangerous?” Alfie queried.
“Yes,” the Doctor bluntly replied.
“Okay,” Alfie accepted, unsurprised by the response, “My mum will wonder where I am.”
“This is a time machine. On a good day, I can bring you back thirty seconds after we leave,” the Doctor explained. Alfie’s gut was spurring him on. This was the most incredible opportunity he’d ever been offered. He would have been daft to turn it down.
“Do I need a passport?” Alfie chuckled. The Doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the console before grabbing hold of a lever.
“Are you ready?” she grinned, “You’d better hold on. Tight.”
The Doctor pulled the lever. The TARDIS jolted violently. Alfie’s hands gripped the console as tightly as he could. He had no idea what was coming next, but he knew it would be the biggest adventure of his life.
“I’m not sure what happened. It just vanished overnight,” Miss Sharma, Eastbrook’s head of security explained. Martha’s eyes widened, “The CCTV footage doesn’t exist. It was working just fine, then it cut out. When it resumed, the pharmacy was gone.”
“Has anything else unusual been reported around here?” Martha queried, casting a glance over the space that was once the pharmacy and taking some photos with her iPad.
“Rather a lot, actually,” she continued, “We found a body in another store. One of my staff. The police took it away, but his eyes were pitch black. I’ve never seen anything like it before. They told me they would deal with it, but there’s been no update. That’s why I called you. You’re beyond the police, they say.”
“We can look into it for you,” Martha nodded, keeping tight-lipped about the specifics.
“It gets weirder, though. He wasn’t wearing his uniform when he was found. His clothes matched those of a young man who was found stealing paracetamol from Langer’s Pharmacy the day before. He was here again, with a woman,” Miss Sharma added, “I’ve sent you the footage, the police have it too.”
“Thank you ma’am, we can take it from here,” Martha flashed a friendly smile before Miss Sharma scuttled off. She turned back to face the empty space, now cleaned up and covered with a cloth that was temporarily draped across the floor. It was one of the most intriguing cases Martha had heard of in a while; she couldn’t possibly have ignored it.
“There was a lot of artron energy here recently,” Gwen informed, showing Martha the gadget in her hand, labelled with a red ‘T’ on its back.
“It’s not just that. I think she was here,” Martha tapped away at her iPad, bringing up the CCTV, “He was caught stealing,” Martha pointed to the young lad in the picture, “But she was there too, just like in the car park. She was the last person seen going into Langer’s Pharmacy.”
“Really? You really think that’s her?” Gwen queried, her thick Welsh accent raising in pitch.
“It must be. The Doctor was here,” Martha smiled. It had been a long time, but she had never been more ready to reunite with her old friend.
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Next: to be released
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