The Forgotten Army Read online

  After they'd been trussed up, the bodies were shunted along to a freshly scrubbed section of platform where white-coated Vykoids opened the eyelids of the prisoners, and dropped something into their eyes, with tiny pipettes. It took two Vykoids to hold each pipette, which looked like cannons in their little hands.

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  Amy wasn't sure, but she thought she saw them take a lunch break during all this. And had she seen a visit from what looked like an inspector with a clipboard, or was she just cracking up under the pressure? Maybe he was a Union Rep, checking up on the minutes they'd been working, and that Health and Safety regulations were being followed.

  'Wow!' Amy thought. They've been waiting thousands of years, and they've been planning all that time.'

  She watched in awe, as twenty-five people were processed in this way in under a minute, then neatly tucked under blankets. It was as if they wanted to keep the prisoners as safe and warm as possible. Amy remembered what the Doctor had said the captured people would be used for, and shuddered in horror.

  Everyone around her was about to be taken to a faraway planet.

  They would never again see their families or eat a doughnut or drink an expensive takeaway coffee.

  As soon as the Vykoids left, Amy started to untie the man next to her. He was a big bloke, still wearing his dirty work clothes and a high-visibility jacket. He was clearly a builder, dragged away from some night-time work site. Tearing off his gag, Amy saw that he was fast asleep, breathing calmly, and actually snoring a little. The drops she'd seen the Vykoids put in their eyes were probably keeping them out of it, Amy thought. And if the Vykoids

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  were finding it that easy to process a big man like him, what chance did the rest of New York have? By the time the sun rose, New Yorkers would have been stolen from their beds and trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

  Another of the bodies seemed to move. Treading carefully, but still making a few people squirm as she stepped on them, Amy made her way towards it. With delight, she saw that it was the Doctor.

  'Oh, here you are.’ she told him. 'You could have been kidnapped to a luxury bar, or maybe the sixth floor of Macy's.

  But no. You chose a disgusting sewer. Again. Shall we take a minute to reflect? They caught you. Here I come, Amy Pond, saving the day!' She took the gag off the Doctor's mouth.

  'Second thoughts, I could get used to this.' She put it back on.

  'Only joking! I wouldn't leave you like this. Or would I?'

  Amy loved the way his face went slightly flushed when he was on the back foot. She pulled the gag from his mouth again, and the Doctor looked so pleased she thought he was about to kiss her.

  'Amy Pond! Never have I been so glad to see you!'

  Amy leant in closer. 'What is that you have stamped on your face?'

  The Doctor winced. 'Funnily enough I can't tell... Can you untie my leg?'

  Amy was too busy looking at the writing on his 147

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  forehead. 'Now that is good, that is priceless. I told you you were skinny. Even the pint-sized invaders agree!'

  Written on the Doctor's forehead, in tiny red letters, was:

  'Suitable for light manual labour only.'

  Reaching through the gloop, Amy untied the Doctor's feet and retrieved the sonic screwdriver from a box, where it had been labelled 'Possible rock-cutting tool.'

  As soon as he was free, the Doctor started on Amy: 'You took your time! I was the first one they brought down here, now look at everyone here.'

  Amy raised an eyebrow, not willing to be knocked off course by the Doctor. 'Ahem, avoiding the obvious here... I.

  Rescued. You. I think you better get used to it, Doctor, because you're going to see a whole lot more saving from me now I've got my alien-fighting moves.'

  Shaking his legs back awake, the Doctor did a funny little dance to the side of the platform and pointed down. 'How come the Subway's turned off?' he asked.

  'Yeah, I was getting to that. They've turned all of New York off. Those troll-faced ant-men have killed the power to the whole city.'

  'Why would they do that?' the Doctor wondered. "They're tiny, they can move fifty times faster than everything else on Earth - and they're collecting humans in Subway stations.

  Why, why, why? They're

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  like an army of angry little hummingbirds, an army of vengeful, speedy, collector hummingbirds, an army of cruel, kidnapping, and murderous hummingbirds... No, your description was better.'

  'I think a thank you is in order, don't you? It's all I want. I know you want to say it as well. I'll be gracious. Just try me.

  OK, maybe I'll be more crowing and happy. But I'll certainly enjoy how it feels. So go on!'

  But the Doctor was looking around the platform, like his mind was reaching out for something that it could understand but not quite explain.

  'Look at the lift,' he whispered.

  The indicator above the doors showed the lift was heading down towards them. The Doctor signalled back down at the dark track. 'Come on, we better go this way. They'll be down with another batch soon.'

  'Will they be OK?' Amy asked, looking at the sleeping New Yorkers, dreaming away, unaware of their fate.

  The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver, and the lift sparked and spluttered. 'We'll be back. I won't leave them.

  But we've got far more to find out, before we can stop the Vykoids.'

  They leapt down to the track and headed back in the direction Amy had come from. Back into the gloom and dark, but away from the prying eyes of the Vykoids.

  As they ran down the tracks, Amy started 149

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  laughing again. 'Suitable for light labour only - that is so funny. Even the Vykoids think you're a wimp.'

  The Doctor looked hurt. 'You don't have to go to the gym three times a day and be all muscle and cropped hair to be a force to be reckoned with.’ he protested.

  Amy couldn't help but laugh. 'Little hint: my kind of action hero doesn't straighten his bow tie when he's trying to explain how good he is in a fight.'

  They walked on in silence for a minute, both looking around them all the time for signs they were being watched, until Amy decided the Doctor had suffered enough.

  'How did this work, then?' Amy waved the psychic paper at him. 'And couldn't you have been a bit clearer?'

  'It's clever stuff, psychic paper. I set up an active conscious connection, very dangerous for some people, shows them what they're thinking. Plus side, it's a brilliant way to get a message to someone. If the Atraxi can send a message from their prison to Leadworth, then I can send one through a few metres of soil. Well, mainly concrete, this is New York. You were never that far away, just twenty metres up.' The Doctor was smiling and pointing upwards.

  'What happened to you?' Amy asked.

  'They dragged me here. Lucky I have these boots on. They actually stapled my trousers together. I 150

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  had some kind of sedative drops put into my eye. Handily, I managed to rinse most of it out, before I got knocked out properly. I just had a quick doze...’

  Amy was intrigued. 'Rinse it out? You mean you cried?

  The Doctor with his TARDIS and 900 years of facing beasties, actually had a good old cry when the ant soldiers got you!'

  The Doctor was flustered. 'I didn't cry because I was scared... It was the only way to get rid of the tranquilliser.'

  But Amy was enjoying this, and wasn't about to give up.

  'Go on, tell me! What did you think about to make you sad?

  Was it me all alone out there, I bet it was!'

  'I was being dragged by my hair through the New York Subway.’ he told her. 'I didn't need to think of anything.

  Also, how come no one helped me?'

  'New York on a Saturday night,' Amy said sagely. I suppose they'd alrea
dy seen a man dressed like a geography teacher riding a mammoth through the streets.'

  'What is it with you and the bow tie, Amy? Bow ties are cool!'

  Amy shook her head. 'It is definitely a cry for help.'

  Something was glowing in her pocket. She reached in and took out the psychic paper. 'What's this?'

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  The Doctor kept on walking. 'Ah, sorry, I've still got the link in place. I'll break it off now.'

  But Amy had already opened the paper, and saw a message in bold letters:

  SOMETHING IS COMING.

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  14

  'Doctor!' Amy screamed.

  Through the dark of the Subway tunnel, she could hear a runaway train hurtling straight towards them.

  She looked desperately around her, but they were in one of the narrower parts of the tunnel, and they had nowhere to go.

  'Run!' the Doctor yelled.

  Amy turned to flee, but felt the Doctor's hand on her shoulder.

  'Not that way.’ he shouted. 'The Vykoids are there.'

  'What?' Amy screamed. 'You want me to run towards the train?'

  The Doctor looked back towards the oncoming 153

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  train, now on the final stretch, and then straight into Amy's eyes. 'Trust me!'

  Amy nodded. If she knew one thing, it was that she was always going to follow this man, wherever he wanted her to go.

  The front of the train suddenly looked enormous. It was gathering pace as if the track tilted downhill. Amy was sure she could hear high-pitched cackles of laughter.

  Just as it seemed the train would hit them, Amy felt the Doctor grab her and throw her into a shallow cubbyhole. She pressed up tight to the wall, as the Doctor shouted, 'Breathe in!'

  With a giant clanging of machinery and metal, the runaway train came ever nearer.

  The back of Amy's head was pushed against the wall.

  She could feel the rush of dirty hot air, and the smell of grease on steel as the front of the train skimmed past them.

  The skin on Amy's nose tingled as the glass and metal rushed past her, bare millimetres from her face.

  Amy was sure she could make out tiny Vykoid figures racing along behind the train, looking disappointed not to have made Pond-and-Doctor Jam out of them.

  'This is why you should never walk on train lines...' the Doctor said. He smiled at Amy and shone his sonic screwdriver above them. 'Still. At least it woke me up properly. Now, I'll give you a

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  leg up - you need to grab that ladder up there.'

  'Hey. Thank you, Doctor. My kind of action hero.'

  The Doctor gave Amy a quick hug. 'You're the best, Pond.

  Now hurry up.'

  With an almighty shove, Amy dislodged the manhole cover and flipped it out onto the street. Her head popped up like a ferret out of hole, and she surveyed the streets of New York.

  'Ah, New York!' the Doctor exclaimed, hauling himself out after Amy. 'This is how it should be. All shops and doughnuts and pretzels, not rats and subways. I spent far too long underground last time I was here.'

  They were outside Macy's on Fifth Avenue. But something was wrong. The shop windows had been smashed by looters, and the streets were deserted. There was no sign of the impromptu parties Amy had seen. Driven inside by fear, the blocks now resembled cold-war Eastern Europe.

  Imposing buildings, but a frightened city, scared of something they couldn't see and would never understand.

  Amy was upset at how much the streets had changed.

  'They were all having parties in the streets. Why are they so easy to scare off? If they just stood firm they'd be OK, those Vykoids are only wee...'

  The Doctor nodded grimly. 'Fear of the invisible enemy, Amy. It can reduce anyone to weakness.'

  'But what can we do?' Amy protested. 'It's not 155

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  meant to be like this! New York is all cocktails and glamour, not glass on the streets and people too scared to leave their flats.'

  'Nah, it's like this most of the time. They love it, though.

  Tough bunch, New Yorkers. They like a city to feel edgy...

  Dropped by in 1829, and you should have seen the place -

  the Plug Ugly gang were tearing into the Dead Rabbit gang

  - all over Five Points. My fault, I didn't notice what was going on. We all sat down over a pack of Jammy Dodgers, and sorted it out. Well, it was either that or I sent them all back to Sligo. They soon saw sense.'

  'I bet.'

  'And I bet you're wondering what my plan is? Don't look at me like that. Of course I have one -head full of plans, me. And what I'm about to tell you is that of all the courses of action to take for fighting super-fast aliens, the most important thing is to-'

  'Stop them moving so fast.’ Amy cut in. 'Exactly what I was going to say.'

  When they first encountered the Vykoids, Amy recalled, they'd been moving at normal speed, like tiny versions of people. It was only after the ripple of light had passed over them that the aliens had begun to move so fast. Surely it was impossible for anything to move at that speed. It was certainly going to be hard for anyone to stop the Vykoids from doing whatever they wanted.

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  'But we need to do more than that.’ Amy pointed out. 'New York is in serious danger. No electricity, no cars, no phones, no internet. We're cut off from the outside world, and we've only got a few hours before all of New York is taken to work as slaves.'

  The Doctor smiled. 'Let's go to work, then.'

  Amy grinned at her action man.

  The Doctor turned back and smiled like a schoolboy.

  'Always wanted to say that. Something about being in America makes it cooler, don't you think?'

  Amy just about stopped herself from laughing outright.

  'You wish!'

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  15

  The main offices of the NYPD were lit with emergency storm lanterns, hurriedly dug out of storage. Even though it was the middle of the night, the place had never been so busy. Every single police officer in New York had been called in and, when all the communications had gone down, Commander Strebbins had insisted that they stay there so they were at her immediate command.

  Inside her dark office, twelve breathless cadets stood in front of Strebbins. She had set up binoculars by the window to scan the dark city outside, and there was an enormous map of the streets of Manhattan spread on the table in front of her. As they spoke, she added pins into the map, building up a picture of what was happening in the city.

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  Strebbins gave each cadet exactly thirty seconds to report, then moved on to the next, regardless of how far they'd got in their explanations. The digital cameras she'd given them hadn't worked. It seemed that every single electrical item in New York had been disabled. With no pictures, Strebbins was snapping pencils in half, adding piles of destruction to indicate where the roads had been blocked.

  'Let me get this straight.’ she summarised. 'So far the roads out of action are Brooklyn Bridge, Manhattan Bridge, Williamsburg Bridge, Midtown Tunnel, Queensborough Bridge, Triborough Bridge, Third Avenue Bridge, 145th Street Bridge, you didn't go any further north, but it's safe to assume the rest are closed as well. And on the East we have Holland Tunnel, Lincoln Tunnel, George Washington Bridge, Henry Hudson Bridge. All closed by a massive blockade of debris.

  You say it was piles of street lamps, park benches, smashed up cars and advertising boards?'

  A cadet nodded. "They go across both lanes of every bridge I saw.'

  Strebbins wasn't interested in the details and continued speaking to the room. 'Every single way in and out of the city is closed off?'

  The cadets nodded in assent.

  Strebbins was being very careful not to appear angry at their incompe
tence. 'And not one of you has any idea who did this?'

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  This time the nervous cadets took longer to answer.

  Impatient at their delay, Strebbins dismissed them without further question.

  'My real men are out on the streets, they'll get this sorted.

  Might as well go home, the lot of you.'

  One woman didn't leave with the rest of the cadets.

  Strebbins recognised the young woman as Yaara Stein, one of the more promising cadets.

  'What is it?' Strebbins asked.

  Yaara shuffled her feet nervously. 'Ma'am. I saw no troops on the streets.'

  'What?' Strebbins was incredulous.

  'I'm sorry, Commander,' Yaara went on quickly. 'But I saw six abandoned armoured vehicles at the exit to Brooklyn Bridge. I searched inside, but there were no signs of casualties.'

  Strebbins eyed Yaara carefully. She'd read some of her carefully composed reports and knew she wasn't one to exaggerate or spread stories without reason. 'Are you telling me that my men are going missing?' Strebbins asked.

  'From what I saw, ma'am, yes.'

  Strebbins turned her back on Yaara and walked to the black windows, staring onto the streets below. They were twenty-three storeys up, and she had a perfect view of the streets below.

  Yaara appeared at her shoulder, and handed her a pair of binoculars. 'Ten units were deployed to City Hall, ma'am.

  But, if you look...'

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  All the way along Broadway the roads were silent. Park Row was empty of patrolling troops.

  'They're committed to reporting back every thirty minutes.

  I'll hear soon. You can go now, Yaara.'

  Commander Strebbins was deeply concerned. Either every officer she had sent out was inside, pursuing the unknown aggressor, or they'd been taken somewhere.

  She'd thought she could cope without the gear of modern policing, the mobile phones, radios and CCTV images. But now the city was being stalked by an unseen menace, and she was losing her officers.