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#301 - Zombie


Episode 1 by Steve Lake
Episode 2 by Gothic Rose the Bad Wolf
Episode 3 by Edward Grove
Episode 4 by Eric Bakke
Episode 5 by Edward Grove
Episode 6 by Eric Bakke
Episode 7 by Edward Grove
Episode 8 by Eric Bakke
Episode 9 by Edward Grove
Episode 10 by Eric Bakke
Episode 11 by Edward Grove

Completed




Episode 1
by Steve Lake


The city was dead, and was slowly rotting.

It had been dead for some time now. Nobody knew how, or even when, it had really started. Some said it had begun to die even before the cataclysm that overwhelmed it, but every society has its doomsayers, and this one was no exception. They were probably equally as surprised as everyone else when the city did begin to really die.

There had been a lot of wild theories about the death, of course the media was full of them, at least until the government took over completely and imposed a blackout but nobody, not even the government, seemed to know. The popular version said it was a virus, either made locally or transported from space; whether by accident or deliberately unleashed, both were speculated upon. The medical and scientific communities were both overwhelmed far too quickly to determine the fact anyway. Certainly no cure was ever found, despite many valiant efforts. Valiant, but in vain.

Others felt the disaster had religious implications. This was quite a popular theory too, particularly near the end, when people in their desperation tried to reclaim or rediscover their faith; as if that was really going to help, under the circumstances. Religious leaders certainly found their voices in exhorting against the evils of their subjects society, and in turn, briefly, there was a turning against those things that were deemed evil, as much in repentance as in any serious hope that the tide would be turned through divine intervention. That, too, didnt help matters. Those that werent suddenly whipped into a fury of righteous destruction gave up and died on their knees, praying for mercy. Either way energies could have been put to better use.

The truth was, though, that nobody really knew why it happened; not the government, not the scientists, not the media, the church, or the man in the street. Even if they had known, it wouldnt have made any difference in the end. The city died all the same, and its people died with it. That they died in ignorance scarcely mattered.

The darkness of ignorance was not the only gloom that settled upon the city. Electricity and power had ceased not long after the first sign of the rot had set in. Reliant upon the power to run their machines, to burn their lights, to heat their lives, to protect them from disease, the people who lived in the city succumbed all the more quickly. Order evaporated quickly. Chaos worse, insanity - thrived. Nothing could stop the rot from spreading. An entire society vanished over the course of a fortnight.

Almost vanished.

Many had tried to escape. Most of those that did looked to the stars. The main spaceport was besieged, and the ensuing logjam of citizens only made the situation worse. And those that were able to fight their way on board a ship that was able to launch found a new obstacle in their path; someone in government had warned the neighbouring planets and in a rush of neighbourly unity they set about establishing a blockade in orbit, not willing to risk a spread of the infection upon their own cities. Not many of the escapees turned back, and the slow-moving, heavily-laden rag-tag succession of freighters and yachts were easy pickings for the cannons and missiles of the blockade. Even those that were able to evade destruction met with a slower and colder form of death, drifting through the system towards an unobtainable mercy until power and life support failed.

Some risked leaving the city for the dubious safety of the barren wastes that made up the rest of the planet, but as in its infinite wisdom the authorities had placed all their eggs in one basket and opted for one large mega-city on a scale to those back home, wherein everything the citizen needed existed in one place, there was precisely nowhere else to run to. There were scant few settlements beyond the colonised area, and those that did exist were far from the urban sprawl. Too far for any of the desperate escapees to reach, even if they had been aware of their exact locations which very few were.

Yet some did survive; there did remain life among the death. Not much, but some. A hardy few who had been able to survive the insanity of those two deadly weeks, either through strength of will or by blind chance.

You might have thought them lucky. Most would likely have disagreed. For even though they had survived, they now faced something worse.

Life, in the city of the dead. Being stalked, as prey, by someone something you might once have known as a friend, a relation.

The city was dead, and was slowly rotting. But the horror was nowhere near over.


*


Landra hated rainy days. It wasnt the rain, so much, as the way it screwed up the light. It was dark enough in the city as it was, but days such as this cast an extra gloom, made it almost as bad to travel in as if it were night. And nobody travelled through the city at night.

Because they came out more at night.

She peered out cautiously up at the sky from beneath the concrete overhang she was sheltering beneath and wrinkled her nose. Only a thin drizzle was falling between the towering grey buildings, but the sky was heavy, leaden. It looked set in for the rest of the day. That was going to make things difficult. She sighed heavily and leaned back under her shelter. "Not that I have much choice," she muttered. Not if I want to live. Not if we all want to live. The city may have been dead, but they still depended upon it for life. The ruins still contained the necessities; food, water, medicine, tools, ammunication. Oh, there wasnt much and getting less by the day and you had to look for it (and look for it hard), but it was there. And they did need it. It was all they had, if they wanted to survive.

"If we want to survive," she murmured, and she shivered. No; better not to think that. Dont think it all.

She drew her tattered long coat around her more and shouldered her backpack, which contained all the stuff shed been able to scavenge so far. It was barely a third full, though. She hadnt found nearly as much as shed needed, but by now, between her and the others, much of this area had been picked clean. That meant exploring other sectors, further away from home and safety. And who did they always pick on to go first?

Reluctantly, Landra heaved herself out into the drizzle and set off warily into the gloom, one eye on the shadows, another on the sky. It was mid afternoon, but already quite dark.

Please dont let it get darker. Please...I dont want to have to find somewhere to hide. Not here. Anywhere but here... with them.

But she had to find some more stuff before she could think about going back. She had to. So many depended on it...

Thunder boomed, distantly. Landra cringed, and quickened her pace.


*


Even though the city was dead it was never entirely silent; nature took care to maintain a sombre ambience. The wind drifted and echoed mournfully through the shattered buildings and streets littered with debris and ruin, sometimes causing some of that debris to roll and rattle around emptily. When it rained that too added the sound; a steady drum-roll of pitter-patter on the sidewalks and avenues and into and through the holes and gaps that had been torn into the place.

But there were no human sounds. No sounds of movement, no speech, no laughter. No one spoke, no one ever laughed.

There was certainly movement, though. But it was rarely human.

Then came a new sound. A sound of the like the city had never heard before, even when in the prime of its life. A wheezing, groaning sound, like a multitude of engines at the end of their practical lives. It rose and fell laboriously, echoing through the stillness, before ceasing with an abrupt thump.

For a moment, nothing else happened. Then, the city of the dead began to stir.


*


The echo of the TARDIS landing had barely faded away before its door was flung open and a red-faced multi-coloured blur erupted from within, uttering at the top of its voice a series of barely comprehensible threats and swear words. The blur didnt even take in its new surroundings, just stormed straight off through the opening before it without a backwards glance, leaving a faint puff of dust and an echo of violence.

Tegan was not happy. In fact, Tegan was positively incandescent with rage. And the source of her displeasure was the second thing to emerge from the TARDIS, wearing a sheepish but not too sheepish expression on its pale, thin face.

"I said I was sorry!" Turlough called after the whirlwind that was now Tegan. But she was gone. Turlough issued a thin hiss of displeasure through his teeth. Confound the woman!

"I dont think thats going to cut it this time, you know," came a mild voice from behind him. Turlough glanced back at the speaker irritably.

"Well what more can I do? Honestly Doctor, the woman is impossible!"

"Rubbish, Turlough. Nothing is impossible! You just need to try a little harder. Go on!"

With that, Turlough was rather unceremoniously shoved from the threshold and into the dim interior of the room the TARDIS had landed in, the Doctor following close behind with a patient but not too patient smile on his pleasant features. Turlough glowered at the Doctor and pointedly straightened his school tie.

"I am trying hard, Doctor. Its her whos not making any effort."

The Doctor placed his Panama hat firmly on his head and clicked his tongue in admonishment. "Oh nonsense! Tegan is a wonderfully warm and friendly human being when you get to know her."

"Shes doing a good job of disguising it," Turlough scoffed.

The Doctor fixed his companion with a steely look. "And youre doing a good job of getting her back up. Why cant you two be friends? Goodness knows youve been travelling together for long enough!"

The red-haired boy pouted and kicked at the floor. "She still doesnt trust me, thats why."

The Time Lord sighed. "Im sure its not that."

"It is. She still thinks Im in league with the Black Guardian, thats what it is."

"That was ages ago and completely cleared up to everyones satisfaction." The Doctor smiled. "Except possibly in the case of the Black Guardian, that is but then, hes supposed to be unhappy. No, its water under the bridge."

"Oh, to you and I, certainly." He stabbed an accusing finger after their departed friend. "But she has a long memory."

"I think its more to do with the fact that youre always arguing. Why cant you just have a normal conversation?"

"I always try to have a normal conversation with her!"

"It never sounds like it to me. Im forever having to break you two up."

"Youre exaggerating!"

"Turlough, you have a way of making good morning sound like an invitation to a fistfight!" the Doctor replied heavily.

Turlough turned away from the Doctor and muttered something that the Time Lord pretended not to hear. He sighed again. Things really werent going well at the moment, and worse, he seemed powerless to stop them from going that way. It seemed to have become a trend, arguments in the TARDIS. And if his companions werent arguing among themselves, they were arguing with him. And to think hed always considered himself an expert diplomat...

"Turlough, you have to understand; Tegan has had a tough time of it lately."

"Oh, and I havent? Locked away in that ghastly school, blackmailed by the Black Guardian - "

"You adapt better to such circumstances. Tegan doesnt, and cant. Bear in mind that Tegan has had to deal with the murder of her aunt, Adrics death, going home and discovering shed lost her job, her career, and then Nyssas departure all in a relatively short time frame. To say nothing of being possessed by the Mara twice. How is she supposed to feel? Biting your head off when you make a snide remark seems, if anything, an under-reaction."

Turlough whirled round angrily. "But I dont -"

The Doctor held up a hand. "You do. Turlough, when are you going to learn? Youre better than that. I know it, you know it, and I think Tegan knows it too."

Turlough stared down at his shoes again, his rage dissipating. "Im... sorry. Really. But Im just... " he shook his head and made an exasperated sound. "I dont know! We just... all right, I just dont get on with people."

"You get on with me. You got on with Nyssa."

"You and Nyssa are exceptions. You get on with everybody."

That pleased the Doctor, and he didnt hide it. "Well then take a leaf out of our books."

"Its not that easy."

"Of course it is!" The Doctor came over to him and patted him on the shoulder. "You dont have to be sunny and positive all time, just be... sparing in the use of that acerbic wit of yours. Particularly around Tegan!"

Turlough remained looking unconvinced, but he nodded. "Ill... try."

"Well try hard!" The Doctor frowned suddenly and looked around. "And where is Tegan, anyway?"

"She ran off that way," Turlough pointed through the entrance in the wall.

"Did she." The Doctor looked around again, properly taking in their surroundings; drab concrete walls, cracked and peeling paintwork; an ambience of must, damp and decay. "Hmmm. Good job we landed somewhere with a breathable atmosphere and gravity, then, even if the dcor isnt appealing."

"Ye-es." Turlough glanced around as well and wrinkled his nose. "Earth, again?"

The Doctor raised an arm out and let it drop back to his side. "No... gravitys a degree or two different." He sniffed. "Oxygen content is about the same, though... "

Turlough inhaled too, and started to cough. "Awful smell, though."

"Hmmm, yes." The Doctor sniffed again. "Composite decay." He went over to a wall and rapped on it with a knuckle. "Polycrete. An Earth derivative if ever there was one."

"But one from Earths future?"

"Yes." The Doctor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "This is probably a colony of some kind. Pre or post Imperialism. Hard to say, this use of building material was constant for centuries. But a colony, yes, Im pretty sure it is."

"A dead one, from the looks."

"Not necessarily. This place could be in the process of rebuilding, or demolition."

"Yes," replied Turlough, looking around warily, "and were in it!"

"Hmmm. Perhaps wed better find out. After weve found Tegan." He started briskly towards the opening. "Come along."

With a last glance back at the TARDIS, Turlough followed.


*


"Damn that boy, and damn me for losing my temper because of him!"

Tegan thudded her head back in frustration against the wall and allowed herself to slide slowly down it until she was resting on her haunches. Her anger had faded from a burning rage to a dull throb of resentment, only now she was as much cross with herself as the cause of her anger. I mean, how sensible is it really to go storming out of the TARDIS like that? I dont even know where we are!

She closed her eyes and thudded her head against the wall again. Anger management was becoming something of issue of late. Shed always been a volatile character, but of late things had gotten worse. She just couldnt understand why. It wasnt just Turlough; he was a lippy little twerp and she didnt trust him as far as she could throw him, but she had begun to realise that half the time she was looking for an excuse for him to rile her. The same went for the Doctor, though it was harder now as shed returned to the TARDIS compliment voluntarily, and couldnt use his continued failure to return her to Earth as an excuse... even if there were other facets of his character, his behaviour, that wound her up. Or rather, she allowed to wind her up.

Is that it? Am I just looking for an excuse to take my frustration out on someone? And just what exactly is my frustration anyway?

Tegan opened her eyes with a snap and abruptly stood bolt upright. "Oh boy, lets not go there!" she growled at herself. Storming off in a huff was one thing, but deep and meaningful introspection was something else. Particularly when you were standing on some unknown planet, in the middle of what looked like a gloomy old basement. But then, didnt a lot of the places they arrived at look a lot like gloomy old basements? Either that or rock quarries... or corridors. Always corridors...

"Where have you landed us now, Doc?" she muttered, looking around, welcome for the distraction. Anything better than thinking right then. She glanced back the way she came; she couldnt see the TARDIS, nor any sign of its other occupants. She must have come quite a way. Not too far, I hope. That would put the tin lid on it, getting lost like this. She could almost see the smirk on Turloughs face...

"Sod him," she muttered with some feeling. "I need a walk... and as far away from him as possible!"

With a contemptuous flick of her dark hair, she set off deeper into the building.


*


"Was that thunder?"

"What?"

The Doctor drew to stop as Turlough laid a hand on his arm. He listened for a moment, then shook his head and carried on walking again. "I cant hear anything."

"No? But thats odd, isnt it? Surely we should hear something?"

"That depends. I mean, this place could be deserted."

"Perhaps for a very good reason," replied Turlough ominously.

The Doctor threw him a look. "If there was any kind of biological or radioactive hazard, the TARDIS would have warned us."

Turlough stared at him sideways. "Would it?"

"Turlough," the Doctor sighed, "the TARDIS may have its failings but it is certainly not in its interests to allow its crew to walk into certain death."

"No," Turlough admitted darkly, "were content to allow its owner to do that for us."

The Doctor wagged a finger at him. "What did I say about that acerbic wit of yours?"

Turlough smiled. "Youre not Tegan."

"Hmmm, lucky for you." He looked around, slightly exasperated. "Where is the girl? Tegan! TEGAN!"


*


Tegan paused when she heard the Doctor calling. He sounded some way off. Good, she thought. She wasnt in the mood for one his pep-talks. She turned away again, towards a patch a light in the gloom; a doorway or opening of some kind to the outside. Fresh air at last. The air in the building was positively rank. A building site, maybe. Or maybe a slum. That would figure. The Doctor had a habit of landing them in some real garbage heaps.

Oh well. It beat arguing with Turlough. With a small smile, she moved towards the gap.


*


"Maybe she just wants some time by herself," suggested Turlough.

"Maybe," replied the Doctor. "But Id rather she did it in the TARDIS than here, quite frankly."

"Well, like you said," Turlough continued airily, "there probably isnt much risk of danger... is there?"

The Doctor gave him a look.


*


"Looks like Brisbane on a Friday night... "

Tegan surveyed the scene outdoors with a small scowl of distaste. The buildings looked cold, grey, functional and uninviting, the street was cluttered with rubbish and wreckage, and in truth, smelt not a lot better that miasma indoors. But a thin rain was falling, and the cool moisture felt good against her skin, so she tried to ignore the dismal scene around her, and her other problems, and turned her face to the sky and allowed the drizzle to soak it.

"Better," she murmured.

From far off, came a low rumble of thunder. Tegan craned her neck round slightly to stare at the sky better past the towering buildings. The clouds were getting blacker. This place was in for a real downpour. While she tolerated welcomed, even the drizzle, she wasnt sure she wanted to be caught in a thunderstorm.

The Doctors voice sounded again, this time accompanied by Turloughs. Tegan scowled. She might have known hed come trotting out as well. She wished the Doctor would hurry up and take the boy back to his home planet. Or maybe they could find him somewhere else to stay. Or force him to stay. That thought made her smile.

The Doctor called again, and this time he sounded closer. Tegan glanced around. There was a closed door just across the way. Seized by a sudden childish whim, Tegan scampered over to it and tugged it open. It was a solid, heavy barrier made from some kind of metal, and it took a bit of shifting, but she was just able to force a gap big enough to squeeze through, and just able to force it closed again. Cool darkness embraced her.

Let em chase after me for a bit. Teach em a lesson. Im tired of all the arguing. Let them -

Tegan nearly jumped out of her skin when the quiet voice drifted out from the darkness behind her:

"You aint in here by yourself, friend... "


*


"Its raining."

The Doctor and Turlough crowded into the opening that Tegan had discovered and stared out into the street beyond. Turlough wasnt sure which he was least impressed by, the weather or the general state of disarray beyond.

"A little rain never hurt anyone," replied the Doctor, re-angling his hat.

"Tell that to anyone whos ever been flooded out."

The Doctor frowned at him. "You always have to look on the downside, dont you Turlough?"

Turlough smiled crookedly. "Is there any other way to look?"

The Doctor shook his head and returned his attention to the street. "This all doesnt look promising."

"No. Looks more like a bomb hit it." He glanced at the Doctor. "Very fond of bombs and wars, arent they, the human race?" he added sardonically.

"Hmmm." The Doctor looked carefully around. "Some kind of civil disturbance... possibly a war, I suppose, but Ive seen a lot of war-damaged cities, and this... this just doesnt feel like it."

"But something rather wrong has happened."

"Yes." The Doctor tapped his chin and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I wonder what?"

Turlough rolled his eyes. He recognised that tone of voice. "Do we have to find out? Why cant we just find Tegan and move on somewhere else, for a change?"

"You know I dont like doing that," the Doctor explained patiently. "I get sleepless nights from visiting places and not exploring them properly."

"Some places are better left unexplored," Turlough replied meaningfully.

The Doctor looked at him. "And you think this is one of them?"

Turlough shrugged. "Maybe," he replied awkwardly.

"Hmmm. Well, lets find Tegan, first, then we can all discuss it." He wiped at his rain-slicked face and grimaced slightly. "Preferably somewhere dry."

Thunder boomed again, louder this time. Turlough cast his eyes to the sky nervously.


*


"That door closed?"

"Yes."

"Properly?"

"As well as I could." Tegan took a tentative step forward into the blackness. "Look, who are you? Where are you?"

"Right here." A match, or something similar, rasped and a fat yellow flame suddenly bloomed just to Tegans right, illuminating a figure hunkered down by the wall; a slight, pale woman with haggard, drawn features dominated by large staring eyes. She had short, raggedly cut dark hair, and she was wearing clothing that had definitely seen better days.

Slightly more worryingly, she was clutching a large gun; some kind of machine pistol with a thick barrel and large rectangular magazine. The woman wasnt pointing it at Tegan, but she wasnt exactly pointing it away from her, either.

"You stuck too?"

Tegan could only blink at the woman a couple of times before being able to reply. "Um... no, I just really came in out of the rain."

The woman laughed, a short, sour sound. "Yeah. Damn rain. Hate the stuff. Used to like it, but now... now, well, it just means it gets dark quicker. And then youre stuck in some place like this, waiting for it to get light." She paused. "If it ever gets light. Sometimes you can be stuck for days."

"Uh, yeah." Tegan had no idea what the woman was talking about, but there was an undertone to it she didnt like the sound of. "Do you, um, live around here?"

"Here?" The woman laughed again. "No, about fifteen blocks from here, nearer the suburbs. Thats why I decided to dog it here. Too far to run to in this weather." She eyed Tegan curiously. "How about you? You from the Eastern group?"

"Eastern group?"

"Yeah... " the woman narrowed her eyes as she studied Tegan more closely. "We hear from the Eastern group, when the comms arent on the fritz, but you... " she ran her eyes up and down Tegans multicoloured dress, "you dont look like Eastern group." The woman slowly stood up, her eyes never leaving Tegan. "You dont look like nothing Ive seen at all. Not for a while, anyway."

"Oh?" Tegan started to back up, slowly, towards the door. Even if she couldnt open it quickly, she might be able to call out to the Doctor and Turlough... where were they when she needed them?!?

"Who are you?"

"My names Tegan. Tegan Jovanka. Who are you?"

"Landra." She made a sudden jerking motion with her weapon. "Dont go any closer to that door, now."

"I think it would be better if I left."

Landra slowly shook her head. "You cant. Not now."

Tegan suppressed a surge of panic. "Why not?"

The woman blinked at her, as if in surprise. "Because its dark, and its going to get darker."

"Whats that got to do with it?"

Landra stared at her. "You dont know?"

"No!"

"Where the hell have you been hiding?"

"I havent been hiding!"

Landra shook her head. "Crap. Everyone who survived survived because they hid."

"Survived what?"

Landra blinked at her again. "You really dont know... " She came forward, gun raised a little more menacingly. "Who are you?"

Thunder boomed again.

*

"Doctor, were going to get soaked!"

Turlough had to raise his voice to speak over the sound of the rain. It was coming down heavier now, in fat, thick drops that sprayed in all directions when they struck something. The sky was dark and turbulent, and every now and then lightning would arc across it, followed by a deep boom of thunder.

The pair of them were sheltering under an overhang not far from where theyd emerged, but it was scant protection against the increasing ferocity of the rainstorm. Neither of them were exactly dressed for this kind of weather and both were already well soaked. But as usual, the Doctor barely seemed to notice.

"I know, but Tegans out here and I want to find her!" He cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed: "TEGAN! TEGAN!"

Turlough huddled back against the wall and gritted his teeth in frustration. Damn the woman!

*

Tegan heard the Doctor call and instinctively turned towards it, mouth opening to cry a response... but in one swift motion Landra was by her side, the thick barrel of her weapon pointed barely inches from her face. She dropped the light in the process and the pair of them were enveloped in darkness again, save for a thin strand of light from the crack in the door.

"Dont call out," Landra ordered softly.

"Theyre my friends!" Tegan hissed.

Landra shook her head. "Theyre too far. Cant risk giving this position away."

"Give it away to who?"

"Them."

Tegan would have screamed, but for the presence of the gun at her temple. "Who is them!"

"You really dont know, do you?" Landra motioned a finger to the crack in the door. "Take a look. Quietly," she warned.

Tegan looked... and recoiled with a horrified gasp.

*

Turlough squinted through the rain. Was that movement? Someone? Not Tegan, but... He touched the Doctors arm. "Doctor, look I think weve got company."

The Doctor turned, followed the direction the boy was pointing. Someone was indeed coming.

Or rather, something was.

*

Tegan found it hard to speak all of a sudden, paralysed by the sight before her.

"Thats... thats... "

Landra nodded, solemnly but sagely.

"Yes. It is, isnt it?"

*

Trying to ignore the downpour, the Doctor splashed crossed the street to greet the newcomer, putting on his best welcoming smile.

"Hello there! Filthy weather, eh? Im the Doctor, and this is... "

He finally realised who or what it was he was addressing, and his words trailed off into shocked silence.

Before him stood a figure. It was once a man, and from a distance, in a downpour such as this, it was very easy to mistake it for still being one. But up close, you could tell that it was no longer human. It was... something else.

The skin was cracked and peeling, green tinged like old forgotten parchment. The jaw hung slackly open, revealing jagged, uneven teeth streaked with decay and a bluish clump of tongue. The hair was long and lank, and hung wetly over the face in thick strands like rat tails. The figure was clothed, but the garments were ragged and torn, barely recognisable as clothing at all.

Worse was the eyes. The cheeks were hollow and the eyes were sunken deep within, but they were still visible; horribly visible. There were no longer any iriss or pupils, just a bland, egg-yokey yellow, at once both un-seeing and all-seeing. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then these windows opened up to a soul lost in utter torment and despair.

The Doctor was rarely moved to display genuine fear, but he took a jerky step back this time. The figures head lolled slightly, as is tracking his movement, and then it shuffled towards the Doctor, lifting both arms up as if to embrace him.

Its hands were like claws, the nails ragged and streaked with black grime and... blood.

The Doctor backed away, slowly but deliberately, placing his feet carefully. It wouldnt do to slip now. Over his shoulder not taking his eyes off the apparition shambling with sinister purpose after him he called softly:

"Um... Turlough. Turlough, I think we ought to go back now... "

"Doctor, I think were too late."

The Doctor dared to look round. To his horror, he saw that Turlough was backing away too, only he was faced by two of the creatures, equally as ghastly as the one that face the Doctor.

Worse, more seemed to appearing through the rain at the other end of the street.

They were being surrounded.

*

"I have to help them!"

"You cant," Landra murmured, maddeningly matter-of-fact.

Tegan jerked her head round to stare at Landra defiantly. "I can and I will!"

"Then Ill shoot you."

"Theyll hear the shot. Not just my friends, either. Those... those things will, too!"

Landra reached up her free hand to tap at the thick barrel of the weapon. "Specially threaded with a sound suppressor. They wont hear nothing." She tapped Tegan gently on the temple with it. "Move back from the door."

"But we cant leave them out there!" Tegan insisted despairingly.

"Friend, there is nothing we can do. Face it - they're finished." She prodded her again with the gun, a little less gently this time. "Now move back."

*

The Doctor and Turlough retreated slowly, step-by-step, side by side. The creatures continued to advance, shuffling ever closer with dreadful purpose, gradually hemming the two time travellers' in.

"What are they?" hissed Turlough.

"Certainly not capable of communication, anyway," replied the Doctor. "They look as if theyre suffering from something... some kind of disease."

"They look like theyre dead!"

"As in zombies? Theres a similarity, certainly, but as a general rule, zombies as you know them only tend to exist in certain examples of horror cinema. Rather less inspired examples at that."

The Doctor was keeping his voice light, conversational, but Turlough could sense the tension beneath it. He couldnt help but admire his bravado. If he was on his own, hed be screaming his head off.

"Well, these less inspired examples seem pretty set on getting their claws into us, and I dont know about you, but Id rather that didnt happen. Particularly if they are diseased. I saw some those films at that school, and I know what happens." Video nasties, they'd been dubbed, he recalled. The pathetic nature of the staged blood-letting and make-up made him laugh at the time. He wasn't laughing now.

"Oh, I agree entirely. What do you propose?"

"I thought cunning escape plans were your department."

"You must be confusing me with Tegan."

"All right then, what do you think Tegan would do?"

"Berate me loudly for getting her into this mess?"

"Apart from that."

The Doctor looked at Turlough and grinned. "Run?"

Turlough nodded. "Run."

So they started running, dodging and weaving through the ever increasing horde.

As if guided by radar, the heads of the creatures whipped round to follow their progress, and haltingly, but inexorably, they stumbled and splashed after their prey, arms outstretched, fingers poised to tear and shred, heedless and unimpaired by the increased ferocity of the rain that pounded down around them and deaf to the rolling boom of the thunder that echoed through the shattered buildings...




Episode 2
by Gothic Rose the Bad Wolf


Landra peered out of the doorway cautiously, squinting through the rain. "Looks like theyve gone for your friends after all. They shouldnt have run - itll only draw it out longer." There was a note of genuine sympathy in her voice and Tegan almost found herself moved to tears, despite herself. She was still angry though, and flared up at Landra.

"You could have done something couldnt you? Youre the one with the gun."

Landra smiled horribly in reply, like a wolf thats just about to bite. It was a completely humourless smile and betrayed some of the pain and distress Landra had been through. "I got 6 bullets in this thing. There were 20 or more of them out there - weve have been swamped with them. Im sorry, and I know it sucks, but the most important thing is to keep yourself alive, everyone else can watch out for themselves. What else can we do?"

"You could look out for each other - help each other - if you work together you might be able do defeat those...things," Tegans voice was high, desperate.

Landra shook her head sadly, smiling that horrible, humourless grin again. "Theres not enough of us left even for that," she explained.

"You must be able to try."

"You seriously want me to walk around out there with a flashlight trying to find a bunch of other people? Those creatures would be on top of me before I got to the end of the street. Its impossible."

Tegan turned away from her, disgusted by the fact that she couldnt even attempt to make a change in, Landra watched for a moment before turning to look outside again. It might be safe to move on soon, Landra thought. Then she could leave Tegan to fend for herself. It was easier then putting her own life at risk.


***


The Doctor and Turlough were still running through the storm, which showed no sign of abating just yet, and to make it worse, it looked like night was beginning to fall. "Doctor! Weve got to find some kind of shelter. Those creatures will be able to take us by surprise if its dark."

"Turlough, I know. I just want to put some distance between us and them - I dont think theyre the brains of Britain, do you? They wont find us if we hide. Then we can concentrate on trying to find Tegan." The Doctor had run ahead and Turlough was struggling to keep up with him. - Turlough might not be human, but he didnt have the same boundless energy that the Doctor did and he was beginning to get a stitch. He tried to ignore the pain in his side and concentrated on following the Doctor, but the fading light made it more difficult with each passing minute.

Turlough looked back once and saw a group of the dead stumbling after them blindly, like human gorillas in decaying clothes. Turlough felt bile rising up in his throat and ran even harder. Ahead of him, there came a shout. The Doctor.

"What is it?" Turlough called out breathlessly.

"Its a house - looks clean and uninhabited. There doesnt seem to be any ghouls in it either." Through the darkness and the rain, a big redbrick house came into view and Turlough put on a final burst of speed. It reminded him of a Spanish villa for some reason and it smacked of richness and opulence - smug landlords or a governor of some kind. The Doctor was waiting for him on the doorstep. "Shall we go in?" a mischievous grin lit up the Time Lords face. He loved exploring new territories and "trespassing". This was one of the Doctors traits that Turlough really admired.

The Doctor put his hand on the door handle and turned it. It opened easily, to their surprise. The two men looked at each other and after a short hesitation, the Doctor stepped over the threshold first, with Turlough right behind him. The first thing they both noticed was how clear the air was in the house. It was free of the smothering stench of decay that was present in the streets they had walked through. It was clean and clear and empty - there was no furniture at all in the living room, kitchen or downstairs bathroom. There was no clothing or other objects littered on the floors - no food - no sign of life. No sign of death even.

The Doctor and Turlough walked around the house, suspicions and fears rising up in the Doctors mind and refusing to be quelled. At last he turned towards the flight of stairs in the dark hallway. "You can stay down here if you want, Turlough," he said. Whatever it was, it would be up there, waiting for him.

"Im not afraid of a dark house, Doctor," Turlough replied.

"Are you sure? I wouldnt like to see you scurrying down the stairs like a frightened schoolgirl."

"Lets just get on with it," Turlolugh growled.

There was a door on the left at the top of the stairs. The Doctor reached for the door handle, sensing that there was some form of intelligence behind the door. An intelligence that knew what had happened here, and what was still happening. And he was right...




Episode 3
by Edward Grove


The Doctor prepared to turn the door handle, But before he could, the door opened of its own accord, and a cloud of living darkness, at the heart of which danced a galaxy of dark red sparks, filled the entrance.

"Oh, no," the Doctor said in a low voice.

"Oh, yes," replied a cold inhuman voice, "Vendetta has found you again. It has been a long time, Doctor."

"Doctor," said Turlough, "what is it?"

"A creature that should never have existed," answered the Doctor, "a telepathic projection of hate, rage, and the need for revenge, a projection that can invade any time, or place, and which possesses nearly infinite knowledge, and power. It thrives on chaos, death, fear, and destruction."

"Projected by whom?" Turlough inquired, "and how does it know you?"

"The Doctor, and I have met before," said the voice of Vendetta.

"If you dont mind," said the Doctor, "I believe the question was directed toward me."

"But you dont have all the pieces yet, Doctor," Vendetta said, its voice taking on a slight tone of mockery, "wouldnt it be better for the boy to hear from one who knows all?"

"Whats it talking about?" Turlough asked.

"Well," answered the Doctor, "Im afraid its partially right. I dont know exactly what it means. Its a mystery. Its been one ever since I first encountered it on Kalif Minor."

"Ah," said Vendetta, "you remember that, do you? But I must say, what Ive set into motion on this world is far more amusing, not to say, fulfilling."

"You mean this thing created those, things?" Turlough inquired.

"Yes, boy," Vendetta answered, "they are my creatures, my death bringers, my fear makers, the instruments of my revenge!"

"Revenge against whom?" Turlough asked, "the Doctor?"

"Not entirely," Vendetta said, "but the Doctor is partly responsible for my creation, and he is a minor target, but no, my main target is elsewhere."

"Wait a moment," said the Doctor, "how could I have been partly responsible for creating you? You were already at your peek of power when I first encountered you."

"As you said, Doctor," Vendetta replied, "I have developed some mastery over time. When you first met me, in your personal timeline, we had already met once. Remember Camp Crystal Lake?"

"So," said the Doctor, "for you, that was the first time."

"Yes, Doctor," said Vendetta.

"But you already knew me then," said the Doctor, "if Crystal Lake was our first encounter, how did you know me?"

"My host traveled with you," Vendetta replied, "in fact, he traveled with you through several of your lives."

"Thats impossible," said the Doctor, "none of my traveling companions traveled with me through several lives."

"Oh, but some did," said Vendetta, "three of them to be precise. There was my host, one who was dear to him, and one who was very dear to you, very dear indeed. Why dont you ask your precious Timelords about them? Im sure that if I create enough chaos, theyll have to acknowledge my existence, ant that of the timeline they so mercilessly eradicated."

"What timeline are you talking about?" inquired the Doctor.

"Ah, but I was forgetting," Vendetta mused, "you dont remember any more than my host did before I took root in him, and began to reach out into the universe. Id nearly forgotten that youd suffered a mindwipe at their hands. I really must turn my attention to them at some point, but for now, this world is all Im interested in, but Im glad youre here, Doctor. You can tell them who is responsible for the slow, lingering death of this pathetic planet, and its equally pathetic people. They are particularly amusing. You should have seen the way they attempted to escape my creatures, the way some of them attempted to leave the planet, and were blasted to dust by the ships guarding the escape routs, the way some of them who didnt try to escape prayed to their pathetic gods to spare them from becoming the victims of the dead who live. For that matter, you should see the pitiful few who still survive among the remains of their once great city. I believe that one of your traveling companions has taken up temporary abode with one."

"Does he mean-" Turlough began.

"Tegan," Vendetta finished for him, "but I dont think shell live much longer. The fool shes with is planning to, I believe the term is, cast her to the winds. It will be amusing to see how you deal with her death. Perhaps then youll know how my host felt when some one very near, and dear to him was killed, and you were nowhere to be found. Oh, but I was forgetting yet again, he didnt remember you any more than you remember him, so Ill have to remember for all of you."

"Doctor," said Turlough, "is this Vendetta thing mad?"

"I dont think so, Turlough," the Doctor answered, "it remembers alternative timelines. I dont know exactly what happened to its host, but its clear that something did, and that the Timelords are responsible."

"Ah, Doctor," Vendetta nearly crooned, "a mystery, and a choice. On one hand, you can attempt to discover the heart of my mystery, leaving Tegan to die at the hands, not to mention, the teeth, and claws of the living dead, or on the other, you can attempt to save her, and leave this world to my not so tender mercies, but it has to be one, or the other. As my host used to say, you cant have your cake, and eat it too. So, which will it be?"


Landra turned from the door, and back to the girl. She knew that she would have to ditch her soon, but how to do it. It wasnt safe to move, yet. Those things were still out there. Some of them had moved on, but as was almost always the case, some of them were staying close, just in case their next meal decided to show itself again. The storm still raged outside, but it wasnt driving them to seek shelter, as she knew it wouldnt. For better, or worse she was stuck here for the rest of the night. If only she hadnt gotten saddled with this girl who didnt seem to know what was going on, this girl whos head was filled with ideas of searching for other survivors, banding together, and taking the fight to them. Such ideas only got people killed, and Landra knew it. Better for the survivors to continue on their own, and not attract their attention.

Suddenly, Landra had an idea. Perhaps she could move on. Perhaps she could, if she made certain that they were otherwise occupied.

"You, girl," Landra said, "what was your name?"

"Tegan," replied Tegan.

"I think theyve moved on," Landra said, "maybe we can try to find your friends."

"Hang on a minute," said Tegan, "just a few minutes ago, you were saying that there was no hope, that they were dead, and now you want us to go slogging around out there in the dark? I dont think so."

"You want to find them, dont you?" Landra inquired.

"Well-" Tegan began, but before she could say any more, the door began to open, slowly, and jerkily. A shredded hand, still sporting a dirt incrusted wedding ring forced its way through the slowly widening crack. Tegan ran to the door, and tried to push it shut, but the hand, as if sensing her presence, clutched at her. Its touch was loathsome, and Tegan screamed in revulsion. She fought to free herself, but before she could succeed, Landra was beside her, pulling the door open wider.

"What are you doing?" cried Tegan.

"Getting rid of you, girl," Landra said, "but dont worry, youll make certain that I live a little longer. Nothing personal, but its the only way to stay alive."

As the door opened wider, Tegan saw the owner of the hand that held her. It was not so much a person, but a skeleton with a few moldering strands of flesh still clinging to it. The clothing was caked with dirt, blood, and unidentifiable bits of flesh, and hair. It was impossible to determine whether, or not it had originally been a man, or a woman, it was too far-gone for that. It made grunting sounds, the fleshless mouth opened, and the teeth chomped down. It regarded Tegan with mindless greed from the slime-covered sockets, which had once held its eyes. Gray stuff hung, and swung behind those eyeless holes, and Tegan knew that she was looking at whatever remained of the creatures brain. She pulled away from the thing with as much strength as she could muster, and the decaying hand ripped free of the arm, and the creature toppled foreword, and struck the floor. It seemed to be, at least for the moment, out of the running, but there were more of them behind it, and they were lurching through the now open door.

"Oh, Doctor," said Vendetta, "it appears as if your little friend is in danger. You havent much time left to choose. Which will it be? Discover my secret, and that of the Timelords, or save Tegan. Decide quickly, Doctor. Her time is running out."

"Whatevers happening," said the Doctor, "you can stop it. Dont let Tegan die."

"Oh, but I cant," Vendetta replied, "I cant stop it. Although I created the living dead, I have no control over them. Its so much more amusing that way. The unpredictability lends an extra element to the mix. After all, if I knew everything they were going to do, it could become quite boring, but I can let you see what happens to her, if you choose to seek my secrets, rather than save her. If, on the other hand, you choose to try to save her life, you should be reminded that a great many of the dead are outside. Night seems to suit them. Its not because daylight can kill them, or anything like that. They just seem to feel more at home in the dark. But once again I ask you, which will it be, my secrets, or Tegans life?"




Episode 4
by Eric Bakke


The Doctors mind raced with lightning speed.

Vendetta had offered him two choices, one of them the chance to save Tegan. On the surface then, it seemed clear which option he should pick. However, the Time Lord didnt think matters were so simple. He strongly suspected that if he asked Vendetta to save Tegan, it would do so by changing her into zombie. To Vendetta, that would be saving her, as it would be removing her mortality.

Unfortunately, the second choice - learning Vendettas secrets - also offered no hope of saving Tegan. As he saw it, only the woman with Tegan had any chance at all of saving her. While she had been the one who had put Tegan into mortal danger in the first place, the Doctor did not think she had acted out of her own freewill.

It was clear to the Doctor that Vendetta was influencing, if not controlling the woman with Tegan. If nothing else, the timing of the woman sacrificing Tegan to the zombie was much too providential to be a coincidence. Maybe if he could distract Vendetta, the woman with Tegan would come to her senses, and save her. It was a long shot, but the Doctor saw no other options.

With all of this in mind, the Doctor said, "Vendetta, you offer me the chance to learn your secrets, but I already know them."

"You do not," protested Vendetta. "You lie."

"Doctor, what about Tegan?"

The Doctor ignored Turlough, focusing fully on Vendetta. It was time to speculate wildly. "This world was where your host came from. It was here, in your hosts timeline, that humanity discovered the secret of immortality. It was not a secret that the Time Lords would allow humanity to know."

"What makes you so sure of that, Doctor?"

The Doctor had to suppress a smile. He had gotten Vendettas full attention. He could only hope that the woman with Tegan would now have the chance to reconsider her actions.

***

"What have I done?" exclaimed Landra, suddenly shocked and mortified by what she had just done to Tegan. How could have she done such a thing unnecessarily?

Landra had no idea, but the important thing was to correct what she had done. Quickly, she took aim and dispatched the zombie struggling with Tegan. It took two of her precious bullets to do it. If she had not inexplicably tried to cast Tegan to her death, she would still have them.

"Come back in here!" ordered Landra.

With some very strong language, Tegan made it clear in no uncertain terms that she would do no such thing. Then she bolted into the driving rain.

Landra called after Tegan, but the other woman ignored her and continued her insane flight. With some strong language of her own, Landra ran after her. Her conscience was going to force her to try to save the strange woman. As she dodged zombies and chased after Tegan, she ruefully wondered where her conscience had been minutes earlier, when the two of them had been relatively safe.

***
"What makes you so sure of that, Doctor?"

At first, Turlough had been furious when the Doctor had ignored him. It had seemed incredible, not to mention indefensible that the Doctor would be more concerned in showing off just how clever he was than in saving Tegan. Then Turlough saw the truth: the Doctor was trying to distract Vendetta. Despite its claims, maybe Vendetta had to concentrate to animate its army of zombies. Turlough certainly hoped so as he quietly watched the drama unfolding before him.

The Doctor did not answer Vendettas question. Instead, he said, "So, you admit I am right."

"I did not need say that you were correct," Vendetta countered.

"Your actions and your hints give me all the confirmation I need," the Doctor said. "I have pretty clear picture of the timeline that gave you birth. In that reality, I met your host here, possibly her beloved as well. Your host was immortal, and knew the secret of immortality. That was how he and the other two were able to travel with me for so long, despite being a human."

"What makes you so certain that my host was human, Doctor?" Vendetta asked. "Could he not be a Time Lord, like yourself."

This time, the Doctor answered Vendettas question. "In the visions I received from the golden earring you put in my path, they never regenerated, while I regenerated several times over. By the way, I think your host and the woman he loved realized their feelings for each other on Irude Four. They might have even married there, despite the complications that the planets exotic gasses might have offered."

Vendetta ignored the Doctors comments on Irude Four. "Perhaps they were simply more skilled at staying alive than you. You, in your fifth life, are not yet even a thousand years old, but a single incarnation of a Time Lord could last that long, barring misadventure."

"Dont remind me," groaned the Doctor. "However, I still dont think that your host and the others were Time Lords. If they had been, I think that they would have shared the punishment I received at the end of my second incarnation. They would have regenerated at least once."

Vendetta chuckled, and replied with a question of its own. "Doctor, have you considered that perhaps my host and the other two were neither humans nor Time Lords, but something else?"

The look of sudden comprehension on the Doctors face made it clear to Turlough that it was now Vendetta that had the Time Lords full attention. "They were Minyans," mused the Doctor. "That would explain everything! I could safely take a Minyan to Irude Four, and they are certainly as deathless as the Time Lords! And I know for a fact that Minyos is the subject of any number of cover ups by my people! Whats one more?"

Vendetta chuckled again. "You do not know as much as you think!"

"But I will," the Doctor promised. "I have made my choice: tell me your secrets!"




Episode 5
by Edward Grove


As Landra pursued Tegan through the rain, she noticed that the zombies werent quite ready to give up yet. One of them, a decayed monster with only half a face, reached for Tegan with terrible purpose. Rather than shooting, Landra put on a burst of speed, reversing the weapon she held as she did, and swung at the things head with all the force she could muster. The heavy gun but impacted with the creatures skull with a sickening, wet thud. Grayish-black fluid, infested with worms, flew, and splattered the rain-soaked street. Landra then saw a moving shadow to her left. She turned, just in time to be greeted by something, which had once been female. The remains of a face stared at her with idiot longing above the tattered remains of a funeral dress. Landra swung, and the things head exploded in a shower of decayed brain tissue, and skull fragments. She then swung on a third, which had been attempting, not very stealthily, to flank her. Her aim, however, wasnt as good with this one. It was fresher, dead perhaps only a few days, and it was quicker. It avoided her blow, and then came at her, teeth chomping mechanically up, and down.

Tegan saw Landras plight, and turned, swearing, to at least attempt to help her. Although Landra had been more than willing to feed her to the things, which stalked this nightmare world, she couldnt just let her die. She button hooked round the thing, which was attempting to kill Landra, and grabbed its dirt-grimed hair. The things head whipped back on its neck, and Tegan saw Landra moving out of harms way. Now, however, the thing was interested in her. It turned in her grip, emitting choked groans, and grunts. Its mouth opened, polluted teeth poised to bite. Tegan pushed at it, but couldnt topple the thing off its feet. They may have been slow, but this one wasnt as badly off as some shed seen. The thing took a couple of steps back, and charged her.

Landra, now out of danger, turned toward the one, on one battle before her. If she had still been in the state shed been in back in the warehouse, shed have simply left the woman named Tegan to die at the hands of the thing she was fighting, but she wasnt. She was in her right mind now, and what Tegan had been saying had begun to make sense to her. After all, with the two of them working together, they had been able to put down two of their attackers. She did not, however, waste any more time wondering what had come over her. She took a running step forward, and swung at the thing attacking Tegan. This time, her blow landed truly, and the living corpse crumpled to the ground.

"Now," Landra said, "are you ready to go back to the warehouse, where its safe?"

"Hardly likely," Tegan said, giving Landra a look that would have curdled new milk, "you nearly got me killed back there. You think Im giving you another chance?"

"I dont know what came over me," said Landra, "it was like someone else was controlling my thoughts."

With that, Tegans protests died. She knew all too well what it was like to have ones will subverted in favor of another. She had, after all, twice been possessed by the Mara, a being of pure evil, whose main goal was destruction. On the first occasion, the possession had been a temporary thing, while the Mara had been seeking the host it really wanted, but the second had not. The Mara had resurfaced as she, the Doctor, and Nyssa had left earth, forced Tegan to change there destination coordinates, and had then forced Tegan to attempt to bring about its return to the physical universe. Before all had been said, and done, more than one person had died, and Tegan had seen it all, and been helpless to stop herself. Even now, she still remembered the feelings of hate, and rage, and how she-it had wanted to destroy everything. She turned to Landra, and the two women walked hurriedly back to their place of comparative safety.

"You say," said Vendetta, "that you want my secrets? Are you certain your mind can cope with the truth?"

"Yes," said the Doctor, "if it will explain why youve done all youve done, why youve caused so much death, destruction, and chaos throughout the universe."

"Oh, it will, Doctor," said Vendetta, "but it could also destroy your sanity. The Timelords wiped the very knowledge of the timeline from which my host, his woman, and your woman came, and in which they traveled with you. They thought they were doing you a favor, I suppose, but they had another motive as well. You see, Doctor, you were incorrect in your assumption that they werent human."

"How could I have been?" inquired the Doctor, "You said they traveled with me through several lives. That, as you know is impossible for a human. They would be long dead, and you would not exist."

"Oh, but they were human," Vendetta said with a chuckle, "and they did travel with you through several of your regenerations. When the Timelords stranded you on earth at the end of your second life, they were exiled with you. They went through everything you went through, the longing to be free, to travel the universe, to see new worlds. When you were freed, they traveled with you again, until the Timelords began asking questions about why they didnt age, why they didnt die. That was the reason they used to cover their true intentions when they finally decided to eradicate the timeline, and make certain that you, and Susan didnt arrive on Earth when you intended, but instead, arrived on Kalif Minor, just in time to meet me, their spawn."

"How is that possible?" the Doctor asked in disbelief.

"The Timelords have a secret, one they never wanted revealed, but you, being who, and what you are, you, Doctor, knew it well," Vendetta replied, all mirth gone from its voice, "the atmosphere of a TARDIS, as you know, possesses certain regenerative qualities, but it also possesses another, the ability to alter the physiology of any who travel in it for a long period of time in such a way, that they become Timelords. It was something The Other built in when he, Rasilon, and Omega were preparing the first time travel experiment, and growing the first TARDIS, the one in which you, Doctor, or should I say, Other, still travel. Oh, I know it appears to be a type 40, but its much, much more. I also know where you hit the type 40 you stole from Gallifrey in your own time, after securing Rasilons type 1 TARDIS, and the Hand of Omega, but thats not what you wanted to know, is it?"

The Doctor betrayed no surprise at Vendettas words, for he knew that Vendetta, being what it was, would know his secret. For once, it was telling the truth, and not using it as an instrument of pain. For this moment, it seemed almost sane. As it had been speaking, the Doctor had heard a hint of sadness creeping into its voice, and for a moment, had caught a glimpse of the personality which had spawned the creature before him, torn by pain, rage, and an impotent need for vengeance for a wrong unremembered.

"Tell on," he said, "Ill admit that youre right, and that you speak the truth."

"In the original timeline," Vendetta recommenced, "your first stop was on Earth, in the mid 1990s. During your time there, you gained three companions, my host," here, the ever-shifting crimson face within the cloud stabilized to form the face, and form of a young man, "the woman he loved," here the face became that of a woman in her early 20s, "and the woman you would come to love," and here, the face became one the Doctor had seen in dreams ever since Irude Four.

"They traveled with you to London, 1963, and were with you when Ian, and Barbara forced their way into the TARDIS. They were with you through all your various adventures, through eight of your lives, for they were, thanks to the TARDIS, and their unwillingness to leave you, changing into, I guess you could say, changeling Timelords. By the end of your second life, the Timelords knew this, and at that time, did nothing, but after you begin, or should I say, began your eighth life, one of the Timelords developed an obsession with the woman you married on Irude Four. She refused his attentions, saying that she would remain with you. As a result of this, he involved the Celestial Intervention Agency, telling them that you had allowed her, and the others access to Gallifreyan technology. The high council was summoned, and the decision was made to stop you from ever having met them."

At this point, Vendettas voice took on a quality of rage with which the Doctor was all too familiar. The red sparks, which composed its face glowed brighter, and began to shift, and change again.

"Thats when they used the time scoop," it continued, "they were taken from you, and their change was reversed, a high crime, punishable by death, according to the ancient laws, before the Constitution was altered. They were returned to Earth, mere moments before they would have gone with you, and all memory of their time with you was wiped. For a few years, they lived, without ever knowing that they knew you, and then, my hosts woman was murdered. He sought justice, but got none. Her murderer went free. As his rage, frustration, and feelings of impotence grew, he, without knowing he had done so, tapped into the latent telepathic abilities he had gained with his change, and I was born. At first, I was utterly mindless, roaming the universe as a cloud of sorrow, rage, and suffering, but then, as I told you on Cthauhn, your old enemy, the Monk, discovered me, and, as the humans say, you know the rest."

Tegan, and Landra sat in darkness. The rain still drummed on the roof overhead, the thunder still periodically cracked, and every now, and again, things moved outside in the storm.

"Ive been thinking," said Landra, "what you said before. Perhaps you have the straight of it."

"I know I do," Tegan said, "going it alone like youve been doing will only get you killed eventually. If you get everyone together, and work as a team, youll beat this. Those things cant last very long, and after theyre gone, you could find a way to stop anyone else from becoming like them."

"How?" inquired Landra, "we dont even know what started it. All we knew was that suddenly, a fortnight ago, the bodies of the dead started coming to life, and attacking people."

"Sounds like a few old movies I heard about," said Tegan.

"We heard about them too," said Landra, "thats why, at first, no one believed it was happening, but they started believing when the first vidcasts came out. We tried to survive, but most of the people died, some killed by the dead, others by the ships guarding the escape routs."

"Certainly says something about loyalty," Tegan said sarcastically.

"It certainly does," said Landra, "that reminds me, how did you come to be here? I havent seen you about before, or your friends, for that matter."

"Thats a long story," said Tegan, " and talking of my friends, dont you think we should try to find them?"

"Not yet," Landra replied, "there are still too many of them out there. If your friends found a safe place to hide, theyll be safe till it gets light."

"And if they havent?" inquired Tegan.

"We didnt hear any screams," Landra said, "when those things get hold of someone, theres an awful lot of that."

"So, now you know, Doctor," said Vendetta, "but little good will the knowledge do you."

"Why do you say that?" asked the Doctor.

"Because its not yet time for things to be put right," said Vendetta, "and since it is not yet time, youre about to forget all Ive just told you."

"Now, thats not very fair!" the Doctor cried.

"But Im not very fair, Doctor," said Vendetta, "did you think Id simply relate my past to you, and then evaporate into space? Oh, no Doctor, my work here isnt yet finished. Youll forget what Ive told you, and as a result, you wont be able to get in my way when it comes time for the arrogant Gallifreyans to taste the wrath of Vendetta. Dont worry, Doctor. The knowledge will sleep within you, and within Turlough, until the time is right, then youll remember, but not till then, not that Turlough will be with you when that time comes."

With that, Vendetta shot forward, and enveloped the Doctor, and Turlough. The crimson sparks, which danced at the heart of its darkness, engulfed their heads, and began to swirl faster, and faster, becoming a mind-numbing blur. The Doctor attempted to concentrate on what Vendetta had told him, but it was already fading.

Tegan, and Landra suddenly became aware of movement outside the door to their shelter. The two women tensed in preparation for another attack. The doors began to open slowly, and a shadowy form began to come through. Landra reached for her torch, and switched it on.

Standing in the doorway, pelted by rain, was not one of the dead, but a living human. He, for it was a man, was armed with a weapon similar to Landras, and it was currently trained on the two women.

"Come out, slowly," said a male voice, "or die where you stand."

"Who are you?" Landra asked, bringing up her own weapon.

"Who I am doesnt matter," said the man in the doorway, " what matters is... "

Before he could finish his sentence, the man was set upon by one of the zombies, and bitten in the shoulder. Landra raised her gun, and fired.

"There goes another bullet," she thought. The creature fell away from its wood be victim, and Landra, and Tegan ran to assist him inside.

"Weve got to find something to disinfect the wound," Tegan said. Landra opened the pack she had been carrying, and delved in it for a moment. What she eventually produced, was a small first aid kit. She opened it, and began to rummage through it.

Meanwhile, the man they had rescued sank into unconsciousness, and as Landra was looking through the first aid kit, his breathing ceased.

"I think we may have a problem here," said Tegan. Landra, distracted, looked her way.

"Ive almost found what we need," she said.

"Its too late," said Tegan, "hes dead. Loss of blood I expect. That thing must have gotten an artery."

Landra closed the first aid kit, uttering words her Mother, and Father had never taught her, and turned to Tegan.

"Youre right," she said, "we do have a problem. Weve got to get him outside."

"Why?" inquired Tegan, "surely youre not wanting to feed him to those things."

"Think, Tegan!" Landra said sharply, "hes dead, and on this world, the dead dont stay dead!"

"You mean... " Tegan began, but she was unable to finish. The mans body had sat up, and his, or its hands were around her throat, drawing her toward it. As the dead-alive face drew ever closer, she wasnt even able to scream.

Landra rushed foreword, but saw right away that she couldnt shoot. The two heads, the living one, and the dead one were mere inches apart, so she did the first thing that came to her mind. She, as Tegan had done outside, grasped the hair of the thing, which was throttling Tegan, and pulled. The head came up, and Landra landed a blow on it with the but of her weapon. The hands released Tegan, but the thing wasnt quite finished. She had apparently not hit it hard enough. It was attempting to get to its feet again, when Landra used another bullet to end its struggles.

"Thanks," Tegan gasped.

"Think nothing of it," Landra replied, as she began examining Tegan, "you did the same thing for me out there."

"Who do you think he was?" Tegan asked.

"I dont know," Landra said, "for all I know, I may even have known him once."

After satisfying herself that Tegan wasnt hurt, Landra cautiously pushed the doors open enough to dispose of the body, after which, she returned to the center of the room, and sat down beside Tegan.

"How long till morning?" Tegan asked.

"Probably a long time, yet," Landra replied, "I dont exactly know. The batteries in my watch went flat a few days ago, and so far, I havent been able to find any more."

"Oh, rabbits!" Tegan exclaimed, "Tegan, youre a dunce. Youve got a watch of your own." She raised her wrist, and attempted to read her watch, but unfortunately, as she should have known, it wasnt set to local time.

"Good girl, Tegan," she said to herself, "and what do you do for your next magical trick? And you always accused the Doctor of being forgetful."

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Landra said with a smile.

"Dont I know it," Tegan said, smiling in turn, "Im surprised everyone on this planets not barking yet."

Vendetta floated from the house it had chosen as its temporary abode, and surveyed the darkened city, searching for amusement. The Doctor, and Turlough were currently sleeping the sleep of the forgetful, and it needed some entertainment. It saw-felt the death of the intruder in Tegan, and Landras safe place, and decided to increase the speed at which the dead revived. It also sensed the intruders second death, and the continued emanations of the two women. It reached out with its mind, and called to the dead, summoning them to the warehouse, to Tegan, and Landra. It would be several hours before dawn, and Vendetta wanted to see just how long the two women could remain alive. And then, there was the eastern group to consider. They, unlike Landras small group of nomads, were beginning to organize. Perhaps they could also be dealt with. With another mental command, Vendetta split the ranks of the dead into two groups, one making for the warehouse, the other for the headquarters of the eastern group. Before the dawn came, blood would run in the streets, and death would reign.




Episode 6
by Eric Bakke


The Doctor knew he was asleep, but he could not make himself wake up. He had to find Tegan, if she was still alive. Still, try as he might, he could not wake up. Nor could he remember what Vendetta had told him. He thought that it might have something to do with Minyos, but he couldnt be sure. The Doctor had rarely felt so helpless. For the moment, things were completely out of his hands.

Unknown to the Doctor, there were others in a better position to act.

In orbit high above the planet, Captain Clarice Timmons sat waiting in her spaceships conference room. It seemed that the mad scientist that the powers that be had saddled her with had finally come up with an idea. Clarice hoped that Doctor Eisuuts plan would work, whatever it might be. She had no desire to spend the rest of her commission quarantining a zombie-infested world. Nothing short of facing daleks in battle could be worse, she thought.

The things that circumstances had forced Clarice to order in the early days to keep the plague of undeath from possibly spreading still broke her heart, and had given her even more gray hair. As she had for weeks, she felt each of her sixty-eight years.

Doctor Eisuut entered the conference room. He looked nothing like how one would picture a mad scientist. He was a tall man, with long ash blond hair. He looked around, surprised to see only her. Clarice almost smiled. It amused her how Eisuut had no idea why people disliked him so much. Considering his crimes, he certainly should have understood, but he actually thought people should be grateful to him for conducting his highly illegal experiments.

"You have something?" Clarice asked.

"I think so," Doctor Eisuut replied. "As incredible as it sounds, the zombies are somehow being animated psychically. This means that if the psychic energy can be disrupted, the zombies should revert to what they really are: dead bodies."

"You can do that?" Clarice asked. How she wanted this to be over!

Doctor Eisuut shrugged. "Perhaps. Because of asinine, long-standing bans on experimenting on human subjects, psychic phenomena is not understood nearly as fully as it should be. Still, I should be able to use the ships lab to build a fast-orbiting satellite, and program it to jam the subspace frequencies some studies associate with psychic activity. It might well have the desired effect."

"If you want that pardon, you had better hope that it does," Clarice said. "Now go build it!"

"Right away. If I went all to the trouble last year to attempt faking my own death to avoid prison, I'll certainly give this my all."

It took Doctor Eisuut only two hours to finish the satellite. As she watched it rocket away from her spaceship on the main view-screen, Clarice said softly, "I hope this works. Please let this work."

Unfortunately, Vendettas psychic power was of such magnitude that Doctor Eisuuts satellite could not begin to block it. However, the satellite was able to garble the commands that the zombies received from their creator. As a consequence, the zombies began to attack and destroy each other instead of the living! This development came none too soon for Tegan and Landra, not to mention the eastern group.

Peering cautiously out from behind the battered door that they had been using with quickly decreasing success to try to hold the ever-growing horde of zombies at bay, Landra couldnt believe her eyes. "Theyve forgotten us, and are going at each other now! How? Whats going on?"

Tegan took a look of her own. Unabashed tears of relief running down her face, she exclaimed, "The Doctor! It must be the Doctor! Somehow, hes done it again!"

When Vendetta heard Tegans words, it fumed with fury. It had absolutely no idea how, but it seemed that the Doctor had once again ruined its fun. Vendetta vowed to itself that it would make the Doctor pay dearly for this latest insult. Having learned from hard experience not to challenge the Doctor in the realm of dreams, it allowed its foe to wake up.

Now that the Doctor was awake, Vendetta intended to teach him the error of his ways. This battle was far from over, it promised itself as willed itself back to the house.




Episode 7
by Edward Grove


"Captain Timmons, were having a bit of a problem here."

Clarice looked up at the sound of the voice from the comlink, and said, "Do we really need any more of those? Whats this new one?"

"Dr. Eisuuts satellite is encountering interference," said the voice from the comlink.

"What sort of interference, Simpson," Clarice inquired.

"Interference along the same subspace frequencies it was meant to block," replied the crewmember, whose current position was the observation deck.

"Is there any way to boost the satelites signal?" asked Clarice.

"Were working on it, but weve never encountered interference like this before," Simpson answered, "we might be able to get on top of it, but on the other hand, we might just blow Eisuuts little toy to pieces trying."

"Do your best, Simpson," Clarice said, "and do your best to find out whats going on down there."

"How?" Simpson inquired, "we cant exactly go down, and look. If that thing of Eisuuts doesnt do anything at all, we could find ourselves dead if we did."

"Use the surveillance satellites," Clarice said impatiently, "theyre still functioning. That is, after all, how we always found out that the people down there were trying to escape into space."

"Well do," Simpson said.

On the observation deck of Clarice Timmonss ship, crewman Simpson sat at a large console, which gave access to the planets vast network of surveillance satellites. He entered a series of commands, and an image slowly emerged on the screen in front of him. The image in question was tinged with red, due to the fact that it was currently night on the planet below, and the satellites whose images were currently being relayed to him were in night-vision mode. The image on the screen was one of shocking realism, and also of shocking content. The screen showed thousands of the living dead, but they were attacking each other. To Simpsons left, crewman Lake said, "My moneys on the big one in the torn jacket!"

"Whats wrong with you, Lake?" Simpson inquired.

"Nothing at all," said Lake, "its just good to be seeing them attacking each other, and not living people, for a change."

"Im not betting on a zombie fight, mate," Simpson said, besides, this might not last. Doctor Psychos toys being interfered with. If it blows, our little show there might just change back to what we usually see."

"Well," said Lake, "I guess its our job to make sure that doesnt happen. Feeding all auxiliary power into the satellite. Incidentally, why do you call Eisuut Dr. Psycho?"

YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW?" Simpson asked in disbelief.

"If I knew, I wouldnt ask," Lake answered, "Im not exactly up to speed on current events in this star system. Remember, Id just been transferred here when everything went to Zombiesville."

"Eisuut was involved in some highly dodgy, not to mention, illegal experiments on humans before this all blew up," Simpson explained, "he was trying to discover a method by which natural psychic abilities in humans could be enhanced to the point where they could be sent into combat situations without weapons, and still win the battle."

"What battle?" Lake asked, continuing to feed power to the satellite as he, and Simpson conversed.

"Any battle in which they would be needed," replied Simpson, "his subjects didnt react very well, to say the least. Most of them died, the others went insane. He was just about to stand trial, when the first corpse stood up, and walked."

"Nice for him," Lake said, "taking that into consideration, maybe hes the one who started all this in the first place, and now he just happens to have come up with a possible solution. Sounds a bit dodgy to me."

"I dont think so," Simpson said, "mad he may be, but he doesnt have the knowledge necessary to do this. His satellites on the verge of blowing, that is, if we cant stabilize it."

"Auxiliary power at maximum," Lake reported, "thats all we can give it."

"All we can do now," Simpson said, "is hope that its enough."

Those currently on watch at the entrance of the Eastern Groups headquarters had thought that the hour of their deaths had come when the immense horde of living dead had first surrounded the complex in which the group had taken shelter, and then attempted to gain entry. There had been literally thousands of them, some attempting to smash their way in bare-handed, others carrying whatever primitive tools, boards, spanners, pry bars, table legs, had been ready to hand. The creatures had nearly gained entry, when suddenly; they had ceased their attempts to get at the warm flesh they could sense, and had instead begun attacking each other. Rotted flesh, and putrid blood flew, and splattered. Corpse attacked corpse, moving slowly, but steadily away from the instillation.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" inquired Ian Davis, the current officer of the watch.

"They forgot about us, and started attacking each other," replied one of the guards, who, a moment before had been positive that she had been about to become a zombie blue plate special.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Davis said with a small smile, "but why?"

"I havent the foggiest idea," said the guard, whose name Davis had changed to Captain Obvious, "it goes against everything we know about them. No one has ever seen them do that before."

"You know thats the truth," said Davis, "if they did that on a fairly regular basis, we wouldnt be in this deep shit were in."

"Daintily put," said the guard.

"I think it would be a good idea if you ran along, and told our doctor in residence about what just happened, Taplin," Davis said, "that is, if hes even awake."

"Dr. Sawyer, sleep?" Taplin said, "you must be thinking of another doctor. The last time I saw him sleep was before this all started."

"Well," Davis said, "that will save you the trouble of waking him, then. Maybe hell know whats happening."

"Dont bet on it," said Taplin, "the most Ive ever seen him do, is slice up the fresher ones to find out what makes them tick. The only thing hes discovered, so far, is that their brains are what drive them, and that shooting them in the head will kill them, and we already knew that. We found that out by accident during the first attack, you know, before everything went to hell in a hand-trolley."

"Just go tell him," said Davis, "that way, hell think hes useful."

"Dont ever let him hear you say that," Taplin said, "hes been getting a little strange over the last few days."

"That one was strange from the moment he joined us," Davis said.

Taplin turned from the entrance, and made her way along the corridors of the Eastern Groups H.Q. The place had originally been an underground storage facility, which had been hurriedly converted into living quarters, and a makeshift laboratory during the first week of the zombie invasion. On either side of the corridor were doors, which had originally led to store rooms, which were now sleeping quarters. All the doors, but one were firmly closed. From behind the one open door came a white bar of light, and a low voice.

"There is a loss of initiative, caution, many of the human cognitive functions. This is due to decay of the frontal, parietal, temporal, and occipital lobes. Upon revival, the rate of decomposition is slowed substantially. Indications are that these, beings, could function over a period of years. In cases of early revival, 10, to 12 years, before decay would threaten immobility."

Taplin entered the room, which most members of the Eastern Group had called "Frankensteins House of Horrors," and crossed to where Dr. Sawyer sat at a cluttered desk, dictating into an audsave unit. Sawyer looked up, saw her, and said, "Ah, Taplin. What are you doing here? You should be on watch."

Taplin told Sawyer about the events she, and the other guards had witnessed, and that Davis wanted him present to give his opinion on the zombies recent change in behavior. Less than five minutes later, the two of them were back at the entrance, and watching the carnage taking place outside.

"Somehow, the Doctors done it again!" exclaimed Tegan.

"How could this friend of yours have made them start attacking each other, when they were after him, and your other friend too?" Landra asked.

"I dont know," Tegan said, "but the Doctor has a habit of pulling things out of his hat at the last minute, although, sometimes I think his timing has a bit to be desired."

"Do you think we could get out of here, and find your friends now?" Landra asked, "Id like to meet this Doctor friend of yours."

"I dont know," said Tegan, "theyre doing a job on each other now, but if we go out there... "

Before Tegan could finish, Landra had approached the door, opened it, and thrown a chunk of fallen plaster at one of the zombies. The creature took no notice what so ever, but merely continued to rip at the decayed thing directly in front of it.

"I think we can!" she exclaimed, taking Tegan by the hand, and handing her the gun, which had been carried by the intruder, "can you use that?"

"Ive never fired a gun in my life," said Tegan, "at least, not one like this."

"The principal is very simple," said Landra, "safety here," she pointed to a small switch just outside the trigger guard, "site here... " she was just about to point this out when Tegan interrupted her.

"I know the different parts," she said, "but what I dont know is, will it knock me over when I try to shoot it?"

"No," Landra said with a small laugh, "its totally recoilless, as all percussion weapons are. There hasnt been a gun that knocked the shooter over in nearly 500 years."

"Well," Tegan said, "that just goes to show how out of touch I am."

Tegan, and Landra took the chance, and left the warehouse. The things around them took no notice of them as they moved through their ranks. They were too busy with what they were doing. The two women started in the direction Tegan had seen the Doctor, and Turlough going in, and soon came to a house, which unlike the others, showed no sign of damage, or for that matter, of previous occupation. The front door stood open, and two sets of muddy footprints lead to a staircase by the wall opposite the previously mentioned door. As Tegan, and Landra approached the stairs, however, they became aware of something approaching them rapidly from behind. They turned, and were confronted by a solid wall of darkness, in which dark red sparks danced. They threw themselves to the floor, and the thing, which had proceeded them inside blew by them, and up the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Landra asked in a whisper.

"I dont know," Tegan replied, "but whatever it was, I didnt like it. It felt so awful, cold, slimy somehow. There was a smell too, the smell of dreams gone rancid."

"What are you talking about?" Landra asked, "how would you know what dreams gone rancid smell like?"

"I dont know," said Tegan, "but thats what I felt when that thing passed over us. Whatever it is, its evil."

Upon waking, the Doctor had attempted to revive Turlough, but it had been to no avail. Thanks to that, the Doctor believed that vendetta itself had wakened him.

"Ah," he thought, "didnt want to take the chance of losing to me in another dream battle, eh? Now, where are you?" His question was answered a moment later, as the cloud that was Vendetta passed through the closed door, and made directly for him.
"I dont know how youve managed it, Doctor, but your attempt to control my creatures will ultimately fail," it said.

"Having a bit of trouble, are you?" inquired the Doctor.

"Oh, Doctor," Vendetta said, "your attempts to conceal your thoughts, and plans from me wont work. You know from past experience, that I can penetrate your mind as easily as a hot knife penetrates warm butter."

"If thats the case," the Doctor retorted, "then why dont you know whats going on? I take it that things arent exactly going according to your grand design. By the way, why are you doing this?"

"You wont distract me again, Doctor," Vendetta said, "but you will pay for your interference."

"What interference?" asked the Doctor, "Ive been here, asleep, thanks to you. How could I have interfered with whatever disgusting master plan youve brought to fruition on this planet?"

"You dont know," Vendetta said, "you really dont. Oh, that is rich, Doctor. For once, you havent come up with a method of holding back my designs."

As Vendettas mad laughter filled the room, the Doctor could sense it reaching out with its not inconsiderable power, searching for whatever had upset its plans. The Doctor didnt have the faintest idea what had angered the thing before him, but he had an uneasy feeling that it was about to find out, and do something, probably something exceedingly nasty, about it. The red sparks at the heart of the cloud swirled, and danced more, and more rapidly, and suddenly, Vendettas laughter took on a note of triumph.

"I almost forgot about those humans in the ships orbiting the planet," it said, its voice seeming to be on a totally separate track from its mad laughter, further emphasizing its divided mind, "it appears as if they have cobbled together a psychic interference transmitter. Should I leave it, Doctor, or should I destroy it?"

"Why ask me?" the Doctor inquired, "youll most likely destroy it no matter what I say."

"Youre probably right, Doctor," Vendetta said, "so why wait."

"Havent you done enough?" spat the Doctor.

"In a word, no, Doctor," Vendetta spat back, "once the psychic interference transmitter is dealt with, Ill deal with those on the ship up there, and then, Ill deal with you."

"You said something about the time being not yet right," the Doctor said, "I dont remember what that was about, but you need me alive for some reason. If you have your creatures kill me, wont that upset another one of your plans?"

"I didnt mean you would die, Doctor," Vendetta said, "but I can torture you. One of the ways I can do that is to make you watch as your companions die. You dont like when that happens, do you? Youve just recently lost one to death, at the hands of the cybermen, I believe, but youve never lost one at mine before. It should be most amusing to watch you squirm."

With that, Vendetta rose from its floor-level vantage point, and passed through the ceiling of the room, and into the darkened sky. Below, it saw the living dead still in combat with one another, above, it saw-sensed the psychic interference transmitter. Vendetta approached the device, and saw-sensed that it was a primitive satellite in fast orbit. It reached out with its mind, and interfaced with the satellites control systems. After a few moments, in which it studied the systems in detail, it manipulated the devices power systems, interrupting the flow of power from the ship, which was in geostationary orbit above the center of the megacity. At the same time, it increased its own emanations, bombarding the satellites core. The systems began to run out of phase, and Vendetta hurried the process along, by fusing the main transmission circuits. As Vendetta moved in on the ship, the satellite underwent a sudden, and devastating total existence failure. Now, there was the ship to deal with, not to mention, those inside. Vendetta would feast on their fear as their life systems failed, and they froze in the vacuum of space, and then it would turn its attention back to those on the planet below.

Taplin was the first to notice that something had changed. One of the zombies suddenly left off fighting the one in front of it, and began moving foreword. A few seconds later, the rest followed its example.

"Back!" Taplin shouted, "everyone back!"

As she followed her own advice, Taplin grabbed security commander Davis, and drew him back with her. Dr. Sawyer, however, wasnt quick enough. One of the dead, a half-skeleton with a single remaining eye, grasped him round the throat, and drew him foreword. He attempted to free himself, but another zombie grabbed him, and held him fast. The two undead creatures pulled him the rest of the way through the partially open door, and into the midst of their ranks. As the first teeth sank into him, Sawyer began to scream.

"Oh, shit!" Davis cried, "weve got to get him away from them!"

"Its too late," Taplin said, "hes been bitten, and you know what happens to people who have been bitten by those things. Even if we get him back in here, well have to shoot him."

"But," Davis said, looking at the scene before him, his gorge rising, "theyre eating him like pigs! Damn rotten ghouls!" With that, he began firing his weapon into the mass of corpses before him. Some dropped, but there were too many of them, too many to ever hope to kill all of them.

"Come on, Davis!" Taplin shouted, "move now, or stay here, and die!" Without waiting to see whether Davis would listen to her, or not, Taplin got a better grip on Daviss arm, and halled him, protesting, back from the doors.

"Shut those doors, now!" she cried, "before any of them get in!"

Sawyer was lost beneath a literal swarm of the living dead. As his lifes blood ran from him in a dozen places, he could only wonder how things could have come to this. He could smell them, a stench of decayed flesh. He could feel them tearing him apart, biting into him, ripping chunks of flesh free. His final thought was, "Dont let me come back. I dont want to be one of them. Dont let me... "

"Oh, no!" cried Simpson, "there goes Doctor Psychos little toy!"

On the screen, the zombies suddenly stopped attacking each other, and once again took on their more normal behavior patterns. At the same time, on another screen, Dr. Eisuuts satellite exploded into fragments, and just for a moment, Simpson was sure he had seen some sort of cloud, at the center of which danced what looked like a million diseased red stars. Alarms began going off throughout the ship, and Simpson, and Lake both moved for the door. Captain Timmons had to know what had just happened, and thanks to the alarms, the comlinks were useless. They ran through the corridors, and burst into the control room.

"Captain!" Simpson shouted over the alert claxons, "weve just lost the satellite!"

"Thats not all weve lost," Clarice replied, "somethings attached itself to the ships main power conduits. Were being bled dry."

"What is it?" asked Lake.

"I dont know," Clarice replied, "it appears to be some sort of cloud."

"Natural in origin?" inquired Simpson.

"I dont think so," answered Clarice, "its energy signature matches the one Eisuuts satellite was supposed to block, and it went for us like something alive. I think were facing whatever started all this, and I dont think its very happy with us."




Episode 8
by Eric Bakke


"Captain, what should we do?" Simpson asked, trying hard to stay calm.

"Quick, while we still have the power, use our communication system to block as many subspace frequencies as possible!" replied Clarice Timmons. "Its our only chance!"

"Will do, Captain." That send, Simpson set to work. He figured that anything a psycho like Doctor Eisuut could do, he could do better. At least, he hoped so.

As Simpson worked, far below, the Doctor paced. Based on what Vendetta had said, a spaceship orbiting the planet had done something to disrupt its control of the zombies. He had to figure out what they had done, and quickly. He tried to remember what level of technology was currently available to humans.

Before the Doctor could reach a conclusion, Tegan and the woman that Vendetta had shown him burst into the room. Upon seeing him, Tegan exclaimed, "Doctor, whatever you did isnt working anymore!"

Then Tegan noticed Turlough laying on the floor. "Turlough!" she cried, and rushed to his side.

"Hes all right," the Doctor assured Tegan. "Hes just asleep right now."

As Tegan fussed over Turlough, he then introduced himself to Landra, and thanked her for saving Tegan. Then the Doctor realized just what he had to do.

The Doctor made his way over to Turlough, and knelt beside him. He said, "Vendetta, I know you can hear me. After all, you must be in contact with him to keep him asleep."

"Doctor, whos Vendetta?" Tegan asked.

The Doctor ignored his friend. In a grim tone, he declared, "Vendetta, if you do not end this here and now, then I vow that I shall will myself to die without regenerating, and spoil your little games forever."




Episode 9
by Edward Grove


"By order of Vorac, head of the Celestial Intervention Agency," said one of the robed figures that stood in the vast chamber beneath the Gallifreyan capital, "emergency session has been declared."

"Fellow Timelords," said another of the figures, this one taller than the others, and possessed of an air of power, "this emergency session has been called as a result of the events I am about to relate to you. Shortly after the Timelord known as the Doctor left Gallifrey in a stolen Tardis, an extremely powerful, and unusual energy signature was detected for the first time."

"And where was this energy signature detected?" inquired a comparatively young-looking Gallifreyan.

"It was detected for the first time on the planet Earth in the early years of its 21st century," replied the tall figure, presumably Vorac, "before it could be traced exactly, it was forcibly relocated to the planet Cthauhn, where it remained for thousands of years. Since then, however, it somehow managed to escape its confinement on Cthauhn, and was next traced to the planet Kalif minor, where it encountered the Doctor in his original incarnation shortly after we altered his timeline, where it attempted to cause the inhabitants to commit mass suicide. It was also driven from that world, but it has now been traced to the planet Carix Four, where chaos has broken out."

"So," asked another Timelord, this one much older than the one who had previously addressed Vorac, "what is the need for the emergency session? Im sure the Carixians can cope with whatevers going on on their world."

"You dont understand the implications of the situation in which we find ourselves," Vorac replied, "the energy signature is telepathic in nature, but no possible carrier has been located. The energy is a life form unto itself, and thanks to the images fed into the matrix by the Doctors Tardis, we know that this entity calls itself Vendetta, and it, unlike the Doctor, remembers alternative times, and knows the actions we have taken. It thrives on chaos, death, destruction, and is kept alive by the need for revenge."

"Against whom," asked the young Timelord.

"Against us," Vorac said simply, "this Vendetta creature is the spawn of one of the companions we removed from the Doctors timeline, and it is now separate from him, and seeking our downfall."

"Then what action can we take?" asked another of the occupants of the chamber.

"We prevent the event which caused Vendettas birth," Vorac said, "and by so doing, we prevent its existence. Its the only way."

"Are you saying," inquired the young Timelord, who would become Voracs successor after his time with the C.I.A. was done, "that we return them to the Doctor?"

"By no means," Vorac said, "but we prevent the death of the human woman. Without that catalyst to fuel it, Vendetta will cease to exist, and Gallifrey will be safe from its wrath. Prepare the time scoop, destination, Carix Four, temporal coordinates, ten standard days before Vendetta was supposed to have arrived on the planet."

"Same coordinates for all three humans?" inquired a Timelord, who stood ready at a control panel.

"No," Vorac said, "Carix Four coordinates apply only to the host of Vendetta, and his woman. Other coordinates will be supplied to you for the third when the time comes to relocate her, which will be soon."

The time scoop controller operated several switches on the panel before him, and a section of the chamber wall first became transparent, and then vanished, to reveal an early 21st century Earth setting. In the foreground of the three dimensional projection, stood a house of typical American design. The view then changed to that of a room in the houses interior. The controller threw another switch, and a young, dark haired woman appeared in the foreground. With the activation of another control, the woman vanished. The manipulation of a few more controls revealed the face, and form of a man in his mid 30s, with brown hair, and blue eyes. He, like the woman vanished from the Earth view as the controller manipulated the rather illegal piece of Gallifreyan equipment.

"Now, for the third," Vorac said, a look of uncharacteristic longing settling on his face. The controller once again set the time scoop working, revealing a young, full figured woman with deep golden hair, and eyes, which were covered by some sort of dark glasses. Vorac gave a telepathic command to the controller, and the young woman vanished from the Earth view, as had the other two.

"Relocation successful," reported the controller.

"And the third?" inquired Vorac.

"Also successful," replied the controller.

"And what of Vendetta?" Vorac asked.

"No change," reported the controller, "its still there, and just as powerful."

"How is this possible?" Vorac asked in disbelief.

"We should have seen it," the controller replied.

"Vendetta was created as a result of our original tampering. It remembers alternative timelines, and is subject to no one timeline. As a result of which, no amount of time manipulation can halt it, or destroy it. It still exists, and according to all available data, it will continue to exist, no matter what we, or anyone else does. We have created our own eventual destruction, and that of the universe itself."

Taplin ran with Davis through the corridors of the eastern groups head quarters, whilst behind her, the zombies finished with their latest meal, I.E. Dr. Sawyer, and were once again attempting to smash their way in. Whatever had happened earlier now appeared to be over, and things were back to normal. Davis had ceased his protests when he had seen that Taplin wasnt going to give up, and Taplin was grateful for that. She would have been perfectly willing to knock him unconscious, and drag him along that way, but he had apparently decided that staying alive was just a little more important than avenging Dr. Sawyer, whom most of the people in the eastern group, scientists, what few of them there were, technicians, and just plain people alike, referred to as Dr. Frankenstein, after a character in an ancient series of shock films. The two of them reached the end of the long, winding main corridor, and Taplin activated a control. This done, she stood back, and allowed the door set into the wall to slide open, after which, she lead Davis through.

"We should be safe in here for a while," she said, "the door we just came through is pure Herculaneum. Not even a bastic torpedo would scratch it."

"What was this place, originally?" Davis inquired, never having been this far into the complex before.

"I dont know," Taplin replied, "but its fortunate that its here now, isnt it?"

"You know thats the truth," Davis agreed.

"Now," Taplin said, "to see how many more survived." She walked to a comlink set into the wall next to the door, and activated it.

"Taplin to all sections," she said, "Taplin to all sections. Emergency protocol alpha one, repeat emergency protocol alpha one. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill. All who can are to report to section omega immediately."

From the comlink came a voice, which responded, "Whats the password?"

"Lauring, and his passwords," Taplin said under her breath, and then, after thinking for a moment, said, "Galaxia."

"Confirmed," replied the voice from the comlink, presumably that of Lauring.

"Whats his deal with passwords, anyway?" Davis inquired.

"I dont know," Taplin answered, "hes just got a bee in his bonnet about them, has ever since a couple of guards went awol two days ago."

"Where... " Davis began, but before he could finish, the power in the complex died.

"Oh, isnt this just bloody wonderful?" Davis said in disgust, "surrounded by zombies, no way out, and now no power."

Before Taplin could say anything to Davis about his sudden outburst of fowl language, the door to the room was forced open, and two people carrying torches entered. One of them was a man in his mid 30s, who stood six feet, two inches tall, and had short brown hair, and blue eyes. The other was a young woman, possibly in her mid 20s, who stood five feet, four inches tall, and had black hair, which fell to her shoulders, and dark brown eyes.

"Wonderful machine providing power around here," the man said in a decidedly American accent.

"I dont know whats happening with the power generators," Taplin said, "but we might not need them before morning."

"You think not?" the man asked, "where do you think weve been getting breathable air from, and come to that, what about running water?"

"Maybe someone should go, and find out whats happened to them," Davis said.

"Dont look at me," the dark haired man said, "you, and Taplin were lucky. You got in here before those things broke their way through the main doors. Theyre all over the place out there, and there arent many of us left."

"Whats wrong, Stephens?" Davis said, "are you afraid?"

"As a matter of fact," Stephens said, "yes I am, and if you had any sense youd be scared too. Ive seen what those things can do."

"And you think I havent?" Davis spat.

"Now, children," Taplin said, "lets not go killing each other."

"I think Carl was right to say something to him," the dark haired woman volunteered, "Davis did say something to him first."

"Its alright, Melissa," Stephens said.

"Is there anyone else alive at all?" Taplin asked.

"Maybe one, or two," Melissa replied, "but with the power off, theyre going to have a time getting here."

Turloughs eyes opened at the Doctors words, but rather than Turloughs calm expression, Tegan, Landra, and the Doctor were confronted by an insane glair of hatred and Turloughs mouth stretched into an insane, homicidal grin.

"Oh, no, Doctor," said the voice of Vendetta, now issuing from Turloughs mouth, "youll not disrupt my plans that way. If I can control Turlough, surely I can control you too. After all, you are a Timelord, as was the Monk, and I controlled his mind as easily as a human child manipulates a simple toy. Your threat is meaningless. The ship is mine, as are the people on this pathetic waste of a planet, but if you wish to play, Doctor, we can make a game of it. Try getting to the ship, and to stop what I am doing. If you win, Ill free this world, and its people. If you lose, they are mine forever."

"Doctor!" Tegan cried, "whats happening to Turlough?"

"Vendetta has possessed him," answered the Doctor, "perhaps temporarily, perhaps permanently."

"Youve got to do something!" Tegan nearly screamed.

"There is nothing the Doctor can do, Tegan," Vendetta said in a mocking tone, "the boy is mine, as is this world."

"You cant have him," Tegan said, "take me instead."

"Tegan, no!" the Doctor shouted, but it was too late. The red left Turloughs eyes, and settled into Tegans own. Her usual expression changed to the one Turlough had worn before.

"The situation remains unchanged," Tegan/Vendetta said, "so, what of the game, Doctor. Do you play, or do I end it here, and now? There are still many of the dead who remain uninjured, more than enough to deal with the remaining humans on this world. Ill call them all this time. Ill call them all, and they will rip every last human on this world to pieces, feed on their flesh, and blood, and leave them to rot. A clear choice, play, and they live, refuse, and they die."

"I tire of you bringing in innocent bystanders as targets in order to punish me, or the Timelords, or whoever your vengeance is against!" shouted the Doctor, "if its me you want, take me on directly! Enough of these childish games! You, and me, one to one. Well settle this feud for good, and all!"

"If thats the way you want it, Doctor," Vendetta/Tegan said, "Im afraid Ill have to disappoint you. I was once foolish enough to face you in a battle of minds. Never again. Unlike you, I learn from my mistakes."

"Oh, do you?" inquired the Doctor, "if you had you wouldnt still be creating chaos throughout the universe. Every time you cause some great disaster, Im not far behind, and every time weve encountered each other, I have defeated you."

"But never utterly," Vendetta/Tegan said, "I still remain, I go on, I always come back! I... " Vendetta/Tegans final sentence was cut off, and a moment later, Tegans expression had returned to normal.

"Now I wonder what caused that," the Doctor said, but before anyone could reply, the entire house began to shake violently, as if in an earthquake.

"Everyone!" cried the Doctor, find something to hold on to!"

"Yes!" cried Simpson, "all subspace frequencies jammed! Take that, whatever you are!"

Simpsons victory was, however, short lived. The panel before him suddenly went dark, and the steady hum of machinery around him, such a part of the background that it wasnt even noticeable until it was no longer there, cut off, and with it went the lights. Alert claxons began to go off, but were then silenced.

"What the... " Lake began.

"Weve just lost all power," Captain Timmons said, "whatever it is out there decided not just to lick at our power supply, like a child with an ice-cream cone, but to gulp it all down at once. I think weve had it."

"Damn Eisuut!" Simpson said, "he probably set all this up!"

"He couldnt have," Timmons said, "just before the power cut off, he took a shuttle, and escaped."

"Why that... " the rest of Lakes sentence was comprised mainly of swearwords in four different interplanetary dialects, most of them totally unrelated to Federation standard. Only the Doctor, if hed been there could have understood what he was calling Dr. Eisuut. Most of it had to do with the mans ancestry, whether, or not the mans parents had ever walked down the aisle in a place of worship, and exchanged rings, and what species said ancestors had actually originally belonged to, before undergoing extensive cosmetic surgery to make themselves appear to be human. After nearly a minute, he got his rather extensive gutter vocabulary under control.
"I hope you dont talk to your Mother with that mouth," Simpson said.

"Not as a rule," Lake said, "but the prospect of approaching death always makes me a bit loose in the tongue."

Vendetta felt the sudden change in the timeline, and immediately knew what it meant. The Timelords were attempting to destroy it. It reached out, and seized all the power it could find, both from the ships in orbit, and from the generators in the headquarters of the Eastern group. At the same time, it transmitted new orders to the zombies. They were to converge on the house, and drive the Doctor, and his companions into the streets. They were not to kill them, but drive them back to the Tardis. Vendetta wanted the Doctor in the Tardis for a specific reason. The power from a Tardis had originally given it the energy it had needed to begin its work, and it needed a similar source of power now, but if the doctor wouldnt cooperate, it still had another card to play. It knew of Dr. Eisuut, and knew that the mad geneticist had just successfully escaped from the ship in a shuttle. The shuttles of this time, unknown to the Timelords, were possessed of a primitive time shift mechanism, which would provide similar power to that of a Tardiss core, although at a much lower level. So either way, Vendetta still would win, and continue its mission, if not here, then somewhere else. The Timelords would pay for what they had caused, and the Doctor would, when the time was right, be called upon to put things right.




Episode 10
by Eric Bakke


When he saw the trouble that Captain Clarice and the others were in, Doctor Eisuut cursed himself for a fool and turned his shuttle around. He set the autopilot to intercept the energy monster, and made a few quick modifications to the controls to give the creature a nasty surprise. Then, with a sigh, he twisted a dial on his escape belt.

The escape belt instantly transported Eisuut into a subatomic universe contained deep inside of itself. Unfortunately, Eisuut had not yet worked out a way to return to his proper universe. He could only hope that he could think of something. Meanwhile, at least he would be alive.

The Time Lords efforts to destroy Vendetta left it distracted enough not to notice the shuttle craft hurtling towards it. When it reached Vendetta, the crafts artificial gravity generator imploded. As Eisuut had planned, this implosion created a momentary sphere of antigravity, causing Vendettas essence to rapidly expand and diffuse.

At once, Vendetta started to reform. However, it could not do so instantaneously. This allowed Timmons ship to recover some of its power. Vendetta angrily took notice of this. Their escape would only be temporary, it promised itself.

On the planet far below, another person benefited from Doctor Eisuuts actions. Doctor Sawyer had just gotten to his feet to the join the zombie horde when the unholy presence controlling his actions vanished. All around him he saw his fellow zombie sway and ultimately fall to the wet, bloody earth. In the end, of all the zombies that he could see, only he remained standing. He felt somewhat cold, but otherwise all right.

Sawyer had no way of knowing this, but he was the beneficiary of an incredible stroke of luck. When the sphere of antigravity temporarily tore Vendetta apart, its surprise resulted in a number of involuntary response. One of these spontaneous reactions was to restore Sawyer to life.

Having absolutely no idea what had happened, Sawyer looked at his hands in complete wonder. "What just happened?" he asked the world at large. "Am I alive?"

Meanwhile, on distant Gallifrey, Vorac and the controller of the Time scoop pondered the growing threat to all of time. After a few seconds of contemplation, Vorac pulled a small device from his robes and handed it to the controller. Vorac asked, "Can you send this to the Doctor?"

"I believe so," replied the controller. He examined the gadget curiously. "What is this thing?"

Vorac smiled. "Its a Stattenhiem remote control set for the Doctors TARDIS, a souvenir from his time with the CIA."

"The Doctor was in the CIA?" asked the controller curiously.

"He was," replied Vorac. "The matter is highly classified, so I expect you to keep quiet about it."

"Of coarse. Why do you want me to send this thing to the Doctor?"

"Im hoping to prod the Doctor into fleeing Carix Four," replied Vorac. "When he does, I am confident that this Vendetta creature will try to take procession of the Doctors TARDIS. When that happen, I intend to have a drone TARDIS time ram them."

"But the Doctor will be killed!" protested the controller.

Vorac nodded grimly. "It is a high price, but Vendetta must be destroyed, no matter what the price. Now send the Stattenhiem remote control to the Doctor."

"Why not just remotely operate the Doctors TARDIS?" asked the controller. "Why does the Doctor have to die?"

"Vendetta would never fall for such an obvious trap," replied Vorac. "If the universe is to survive, the Doctor must die. There is no other way. Now, please, do as I say."

Reluctantly, the controller did as Vorac ordered him.

As a result, the Doctor found himself holding a Stattenhiem remote control set for his TARDIS. After the house he stood in had finally stopped shaking, the Doctor eagerly activated the device. For once, he was grateful to Gallifrey for its intervention.




Episode 11
by Edward Grove

The Doctor turned to Turlough, and Landra, and began to speak. Before he could, Landra said, "Look at Tegan." The Doctor followed Landra's pointing finger, and saw that the red had left Tegan's eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tegan replied, "but I hope I never have to go through anything like that again. It was so…so horrible."

"From what little I remember," Turlough said, "you were the one who said for it to take you rather than me."

"Turlough," Tegan said, "I would really appreciate it if you'd shut up."

"Now come on," said the Doctor, "we can't afford to be fighting among ourselves."

"What's that you've got, Doctor?" Tegan inquired, pointing to the device in the Doctor's hand.

"It's a bit difficult to explain," answered the Doctor, "but put very simply, it allows me to operate the Tardis from a distance."

"Why didn't you ever use it before?" Tegan asked, "it would have come in useful a few times."

"Well," The Doctor answered, "you see, I've not had one till now."

"I don't understand," Tegan said.

"The Timelords sent it to me," the Doctor replied.

"Have you even thought to wonder why they never sent one to you before?" Turlough asked, "you could have used it to get off Terminus, or Mawdryn's ship."

"I don't understand why they sent it to me now," said the Doctor, "but I believe it should be put to use as soon as possible."

"Then why are we just standing around talking?" Landra asked.

"Right!" the Doctor exclaimed, as he operated the device, and the Tardis materialized.

In the Eastern Group's headquarters, the power generators cycled up to full. The lights, and air exchangers came to life, and the comlink in the converted storage chamber, which had become the bolthole for the last few survivors began to beep.

"What the hell happened?" Carl Stephens inquired, as Taplin moved to the comlink.

"It seems as if the power shortage was only temporary," Davis replied.

"Taplin here."

"We appear to have hit on some good luck for a change," said a voice from the comlink, "those things are dying. They're dropping like flies!"

"Do you think it's safe for us to leave here?" Taplin inquired.

"Maybe, maybe not," the voice responded, "it's not exactly as if this were our first stroke of good luck."

"Don't I know it," Taplin said.

"So, do we just sit here, and await further developments, or take a chance on going out, and getting eaten if those things suddenly decide to get back up, and start chomping?" Carl inquired.

"Speaking of food," Melissa stated, "there's none here. One of us will need to leave here at some point, and get some."

"So," who's the lucky explorer?" Davis asked.

"I'd say there ought to be at least two," Taplin said, "and since Hathaway made the suggestion, she should be one of them."

"In that case," Carl said, "I'll be the second."

A moment later, he had moved to the door control, and he, and Melissa moved carefully into the corridor. As the door closed behind them, Taplin turned to Davis.

"I certainly hope they're not getting themselves into a lethal situation out there," she said.

"According to the message we just received," Davis replied, "there's nothing to worry about."

"Not at the moment, at least," Taplin said, "but remember what just happened out at the doors."

"You don't need to remind me," Davis said, a decidedly ill look crossing his face.

Dr. Sawyer entered the complex through the now defunct main doors. His body obeyed his mind without a hitch, which, in his opinion, meant that he was alive, but he could feel no pulse beating within him, and his body seemed to retain no heat. He had no idea what this meant, but he supposed that the fact that he could still think meant that he wasn't a zombie. His experiments had shown that the creatures that had taken over the planet could not think. He felt no hunger, and that also meant that he was human, or at least semi human. He could sense the power that had reanimated the dead gathering, preparing to seize control of the now lifeless corpses again. The buildup was gradual, but not gradual enough to guaranty safety for those still in the complex, or those still skulking in their hiding places throughout the mega city.

After a moment, during which he considered warning the others, he retraced his steps, and exited the complex. He knew instinctively that the zombies wouldn't attack him, which meant that he would be safe no matter where he was. He would survive, even if the dead took every last human on the planet, and then he could carry on the secret experiments he had been conducting in his lab, whilst at the same time, feeding the Eastern Group scraps of information of his own choosing. His attempts to control the dead, to utilize them as the means by which he would reproduce the zombie phenomenon on any world on which he chose to set up a power base would continue, and when he cracked the secret, the universe would bow to him.

As these events were occurring on the planet below, Simpson, and Lake were standing in the control room of Captain Timmons's ship. They had witnessed the destruction of the shuttle, and the temporary dispersal of the creature, or whatever it had been, and at the same moment, the power systems of the ship had come back online. Unfortunately, there was no longer enough energy in reserve for them to take any action, but there was sufficient power for the communication systems. Captain Timmons had opened a channel, and transmitted a distress call. The signal had been received by one of the Federation's Sovran class ships, the Yorktown, which was now on rout to Carix Four at maximum warp. Everyone, including Captain Timmons, was watching the visiscreens with anticipation. Part of the reason for this was the fact that the life support systems were now beginning to fail, another was the lack of power to the shuttle bays, and the third was the knowledge that Carix Four was, for all intents, and purposes, a lost cause. There had been no ships attempting to leave the planet for days now, and none of the ship's crew believed that there would be any more.

"Well," said Simpson, "it appears that Dr. Psycho just saved our…" the final word of his sentence was in a dialect that was totally unfamiliar to Captain Timmons, but lake understood it perfectly.

"And you were talking about my gutter vocabulary earlier?" he asked with a smile.

"I only said one word," Simpson replied, returning Lake's smile, "you, on the other hand, were going on for about two minutes."

"Come on you two," Captain Timmons said, "fight nice."

"That has got to be the strangest statement humanity ever invented," Lake said, now turning his smile on the captain.

"I agree," Simpson said, but before the conversation could go on any further, the ship's main communication channel came to life.

"Yorktown, to Guardian," a cultured female voice said, "We are now in approach orbit. Preparing to transport survivors."

A moment later, the crew aboard Captain Timmons's doomed ship were teleported aboard the Yorktown. They found themselves face to face with an extremely beautiful blond haired, blue-eyed woman wearing a Federation uniform, with a captain's braid on her shoulder. She was flanked by security guards, one of whom appeared to be a Klingon.

"Kolof," said the Yorktown's captain, "escort our guests to temporary quarters."

"Immediately, Captain Ramirez," the Klingon replied.

After the doors closed behind the crew of Guardian, Captain Ramirez turned to one of the guards who remained in the transporter room.

"The bridge crew detected life signs on the planet's surface," she said, "assemble an away team."

The doors to the transporter room slid open a few minutes later, admitting several more security guards, and a Felinoid wearing a medical uniform. They moved to the transporter platforms.

"Energise," said the captain.

A moment later, the away team materialized on the surface of Carix Four. They had all been informed by the Guardian's crew as to what had been occurring on the planet, and were prepared for the worst. As a result of which, what they saw when they materialized was a complete surprise. They had been expecting hordes of living dead, not inert corpses strewn everywhere.

"What do you think's going on?" inquired one of the security guards, "we were told…"

"I'm aware of what we were told," said Captain Ramirez, "but we were also told that countermeasures had been attempted. They must have been successful."

"If they were," said Yorktown's medical officer, "they weren't entirely successful. Some of those bodies are still twitching."

"Weapons at the ready," said the captain.

The away team moved through the streets of the mega city, avoiding going too near the corpses whenever possible. As they went, they noticed that the Felinoid's observation had been correct. The corpses were beginning to move, slightly at first, but as time went on, their movements became more pronounced. As yet, none of them had attempted to get up, and walk, but their rotted hands clawed the ground, their teeth chomped up, and down, their legs twitched.

"I don't like this," said the Felinoid.

"Be careful, Myrah," Captain Ramirez said as the Felinoid bent to examine one of the semi mobilized corpses.

Myrah, as the captain called her, as was true of most feline evolved species, possessed an almost inexhaustible supply of curiosity, and it had been inflamed by the reports from Carix Four. She grasped the arm of the corpse she had stopped to examine, and the decayed head came up. The teeth sank into her upper arm, and ripped a chunk of meat free. Myrah reacted instantly, tightening her grip on the rotted arm, and tearing it free. The corpse rose shakily to its feet, and its head dipped toward her throat.

The captain raised her phaser, and fired. The energy beam hit the zombie in the chest, but didn't stop it. She fired again, but once again it had no effect. She watched helplessly as her chief medical officer's throat was torn open.

Carl, and Melissa made their way through the now deserted corridors, constantly on guard against attack. They moved from room, to room, taking with them any containers of food they could find. It was as they were returning to the storage chamber where Taplin, and Davis were waiting for them, that they saw someone, or something moving near what had been the main doors.

"Hey," Carl whispered, "what's that thing? Is that one of them?"

"It doesn't move like one of them," answered Melissa.

"Then what is it?" Carl asked.

"I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter," answered Melissa, "it's leaving."

"Well, that ties it," Carl said, "one of those things wouldn't just leave without at least trying to attack somebody."

"Something's not right," Melissa said, "its colour was all wrong."

"What does its colour have to do with anything," Carl asked.

"It moved like a human," Melissa replied, "but it had the customary pallor of one of them."

"Maybe we should follow it, and see what the hell it's up to," Carl said, touching his sidearm as he spoke.

"Shouldn't we get this food back to the others first?" Melissa inquired.

"I'll do that," Carl said, "you're the better one at tracking, and following, not to mention surviving out there."

"Either we both go, or neither one of us does," Melissa said.

"Alright, you win," Carl said with a slight smile.

As it turned out, Taplin, and Davis refused to stay in the storage chamber once they had heard Carl, and Melissa's story.

"Four will be more likely to survive out there than two," Taplin said, "so Davis, and I are going with you.

The four survivors of the Eastern Group left the complex through what had been the main entrance, and immediately discovered that the zombies were showing signs of life. They moved through the streets, doing their best to avoid the living corpses as often as possible. They had only been on the move for a couple of minutes, when they heard the unmistakable sound of some sort of energy weapon being discharged multiple times.

"Sounds like trouble ahead," Taplin said quietly, "guns at the ready."

The thing that had killed her chief medical officer was advancing on Captain Ramirez, the rotted hands clutching, the discolored teeth chomping, the remains of a face twisted into an expression of mindless greed, and hunger. It reached for her, and the Captain fired her phaser at it again. The energy bolt had no effect on it. It continued to reach, its teeth still chomping.

The security guards who had come with her also began firing their weapons, but they were just as ineffective, and more of the dead things that now ruled the planet were rising to their feet. Two guards fell to zombies which had crept up behind them, and the captain's situation was growing ever more hopeless, when the sound of percussion weapons split the night. Zombie, after zombie fell before the fire of the as yet unseen newcomers, until all the decayed things were once again decently dead.

The four Eastern Group survivors made short work of the zombies, and then took stock of the situation. The people before them were wearing Federation uniforms, and were, at the moment, attempting to do what they could for their fallen comrades.

"I wouldn't go near them if I were you, Captain," Carl said to the woman with the braid on her shoulder, "they'll be just like those things that attacked you in a matter of minutes."

"I extend my thanks to you," said one of the surviving Federation officers, one who appeared to be a Klingon, "you fought well."

"Could we discuss our fighting skills some other time, like maybe one in which we're not out in the open, and ready to be turned in to corpse food?" Carl asked.

"Ramirez to Yorktown," the Captain said, after tapping her com badge, "energize."

Vendetta saw all this, and more. It also saw the drone Tardis Vorac had sent to time ram the Doctor's Tardis, thereby putting an end to him.

"No, this will not be," the dark thing thought, "this will not be. You won't escape my wrath that way, meddler."

It reached out into the vortex, feeling/sensing its way toward the drone Tardis. It drew closer, and closer to it, in golfed it, absorbed it, and the Tardis mind that lived within it. It felt power serge through its being, power, which completely replenished it, but it was now time for the game on Carix Four to end. The dead had served their purpose, as had the planet. Moving its mind from the vortex, and back into the biosphere of the planet, and the rudimentary minds of the dead, it snatched at all the energy it could find.

As the Federation crew, and Eastern Group survivors were transported off the surface of Carix Four, the ground began to tremble. Cracks appeared in the streets of the mega city, buildings crumbled to dust, and smoke rose from the ground itself. The corpses, as one, crumbled to the ground, and were immediately incinerated. The surface of the planet began to bubble, and bit-by-bit, the mega city caught fire, lighting the night sky in strange colours. Fault line, after fault line tore open, spewing molten rock to the sky. Explosion, after explosion ripped the now disintegrating planet, sending fragments into space in all directions.

On the bridge of the U.S.S. Yorktown, Captain Ramirez, and the bridge crew watched as Carix Four destroyed itself. All shields were up, and fully charged, but as the planet's death throws became more violent, the ship was forced to move out of orbit.

As the planet, which had been Vendetta's most recent home continued to rip itself apart, the creature which had been accidentally created by the unlikely combination of time interference, grief, rage, and the need for revenge absorbed the energies of the destruction, and grew ever darker. It watched with satisfaction as Carix Four boiled away into space, and then moved from subjective space/time, into the vortex. Its work on Carix Four was finished, brought to a premature end by events it could not have foreseen, and it knew who the author of those events was. Its new target was Vorac, head of the Celestial Intervention Agency, and member of Faction Paradox. As it moved through the vortex, it began planning its next move. One which when it came, would bring Vorac, Gallifrey, and all the other Timelords to their collective knees.

"Justyce will be served," it thought.

"Doctor," Tegan said, "what happened back there?"

"Well," the Doctor replied, "Carix Four was apparently an unstable planet. I suppose its time had come."

"I don't believe it for a minute," Tegan said, "I think it was that thing, that Vendetta creature."

"If so," mused the Doctor, "then it's far more powerful than I ever dared to think."

"What exactly did it want?" Turlough inquired, "I can't imagine that it simply wanted to destroy everything."

"I don't know," the Doctor answered, "I think I did, once, but now…"

"And what stake did the Timelords have in this?" Tegan asked, "they gave you that remote control thingy, and then after the planet blew itself up, it disappeared."

"I don't know that either," answered the Doctor, "but it's probably not important. What is, is that we get Landra to a suitable planet, preferably an Earth colony. Then we can at least try to work out the rest."



The End