Lindgard shook his head. 'That will be taken care of.'

'Doctor,' said Fitz, concerned for Kerstin. 'We've got to get her out of here.'

The Doctor looked at Kerstin. 'Yes, of course. Come on.'

They walked along the corridor, watched by Dr Lindgard.

Once outside the hospital, they sat on a bench in the brilliant sunshine. Fitz felt as if what had happened was a dream. The horror of Johan's death could not possibly have taken place in the serene Swedish summer.

But the blood all over his white shirt, the tattered cloth of the arm he'd torn off to make the tourniquet for Kerstin, the wound in Kerstin's arm were all incontrovertible proof.

Kerstin was shaking her head. 'That didn't happen. Johan is OK. He's gonna be OK.'

'What are we going to do with her?' whispered Fitz.

The Doctor seemed to consider. 'Take her back to the farm.'

'How?'

The Doctor waved a hand. 'Oh, Fitz. This is a hospital, she's not well, get them to take you in an ambulance. And get them to treat that wound first. Your makeshift bandage won't do.'

Fitz felt a surge of anger. 'Well sorry, Doctor, but I didn't see you doing much back there to help.'

The Doctor appeared to ignore this remark, and stood up, practically hopping from foot to foot. 'While you're doing that I'm going to go back in there and get a good look at those creatures.'

The Doctor set off at a run towards the hospital, and Fitz followed at a slower pace. Kerstin was holding his hand, as if she were a little girl.

Fitz swallowed. He'd suddenly realised that what had happened to Johan could have happened to Sam.

Fitz took Kerstin back to reception, where alarmed nurses took her away to get her wound treated and to give her something for shock. All Fitz had to do now was wait for her, and then an ambulance would whisk them both back to the farm.

It seemed to Fitz that he was doing a lot of waiting around today. Still, this was welcome his hands were still shaking after what had happened in the isolation ward, and his heart was beating fast and erratically. He desperately wanted a smoke, but none of his Camels were in a decent enough condition.

The lobby was tiled in grey with white walls, with a seating area opposite a picture window. Fitz sat there for a while, trying to take his mind off things, letting his anger towards the Doctor cool off. Perhaps he shouldn't be so hard on him. The plight of the TARDIS, the loss of Sam, must be affecting him deeply.

Someone hurried in through the revolving doors, and Fitz looked up. It was Inspector Nordenstam, looking fl.u.s.tered.

'Inspector!' cried Fitz, standing up and waving.

Nordenstam came over, looking him up and down. 'What happened to you?'

Fitz's white silk shirt was missing a sleeve and spattered in blood. He took a deep breath. 'It's not so much what happened to me, as what's happened to Johan.'

Nordenstam frowned. 'I was just on my way here to see how he was. After you called and got cut off, I thought something might have happened.'

d.a.m.n. Perhaps he should have called Nordenstam, after the crisis. He hadn't given him a thought since...

'Um, something has happened, but it was after I called. Come on the Doctor's with Johan's body.'

'Body?' hissed Nordenstam, gripping Fitz's arm. 'You mean he's dead?'

Fitz nodded gravely. 'You'd better come with me.'

They made their way to the isolation ward, to find the Doctor standing in the corridor, his hands in his pockets, staring through the gla.s.s. He didn't look up as they approached.

And then Fitz saw. The bed was empty. Fresh sheets had been put on and all the blood and mess had been cleaned up. Of Johan, or the creatures, there was no sign.

'Where have they taken him? To the mortuary?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'We were the only ones to see what happened,' said Fitz slowly. He was thinking of the figures in the white suits. How easy would it be for them to take Johan from the hospital? The whole thing had the ring of a conspiracy. A b.l.o.o.d.y big one. 'They must have taken him.'

'Who?' said the Doctor and Nordenstam simultaneously.

'Those guys we saw in the forest,' said Fitz, 'who said they were from the State Biohazard Protection Unit.'

'Yes, I've run a few checks on them,' said Nordenstam. 'There is no such organisation.'

Fitz explained about what had happened in the forest to the Doctor.

After he'd heard all, the Doctor's face was grim, his mouth set in a stern line. 'This is worse than I thought. Did you get a look at the faces behind the masks?'

Neither Fitz or Nordenstam had.

'Then we can't be sure they're even human,' said the Doctor. He slammed his palm against the gla.s.s window of the isolation ward. 'I hate not knowing who the enemy are.'

Chapter Seven.

Siege The hot day had melted into a cool, clear evening, the bright sunlight fading to a brooding, humid half-light. The town of Strangnas was quiet and deserted, its narrow streets harbouring shadows and silence, as if a curfew had been imposed. No one felt like leaving their home that night. The shock of the disappearances had stunned the whole town, and the people of Strangnas were scared. Scared of the same thing happening to them or their loved ones. Many had visited the lake, to stare in wonder at the remains of the cabin, returning to the town to debate what could have caused such a thing. Relatives and friends in Eskilstuna, Vasters, Stockholm and beyond had been telephoned. The press had got wind of things, but the media feeding frenzy of British tabloids was unknown here. Tomorrow's edition of Aftonbladet Aftonbladet would carry a short article on the 'Strangnas Incident', reporting the bare facts and listing the names of those who had vanished: would carry a short article on the 'Strangnas Incident', reporting the bare facts and listing the names of those who had vanished: Johan Svensson, 21, medical student Per Ollson, 46, bank clerk Svetlana Persson, 32, teacher Lars Petersen, 64, store owner, Harad Peter Jonsson, 12, schoolboy Bo Vikarn, 32, unemployed Samantha Jones, 22, English tourist They wouldn't mention Olla Wenberg, the unfortunate person who had been 'half abducted'. Nordenstam, acting on her family's request, had managed to keep that quiet. He would be a busy man for the next few days, trying to find out more about the so-called State Biohazard Protection Unit, trying to find out what had happened to Johan's body.

He wouldn't get anywhere. The explanation of the disappearances, if it ever came, would probably be so far beyond human comprehension that a cover story would have to be deployed.

The Doctor stood outside the farmhouse, looking down at the dark ma.s.s of the forest, the lights of the small village of Harad bright in the distance. He was emptying his mind, trying to focus on the here and now, listening for subliminals in the noosphere, anything that might give him a clue.

The Doctor closed his eyes. It was so quiet here. He could hear the low voices of Fitz and Bjorn talking in the farmhouse kitchen. He blotted them out, trying to focus his mind. But nothing came. He opened his eyes, looking at the dusky landscape around him with sinking hearts. He hated being one step or even more steps behind his enemies. Whoever they were.

'Who's behind this?' he said out loud. 'Come on, show yourselves! I'm not afraid to face you. I'm not afraid!'

He heard footsteps from behind him. Heavy, shuffling, uneven. Bjorn. The old farmer walked to stand beside him, still limping from his leg wound. His big saggy face was slack with fatigue and the Doctor could smell alcohol on his breath. Just like Fitz, using a drug to numb the emotions, to escape.

'Come in and have some food, Doctor. And mind not to shout you might wake Kerstin.'

The Doctor felt himself blush. 'Yes, of course. Is she still sleeping?'

Bjorn nodded. 'Best thing for her. Poor, poor girl.'

The moment they'd arrived at the farmhouse some hours earlier, Kerstin had gone upstairs and fallen fully clothed into a natural, deep sleep. No sedatives, no tricks with pocket watches, just normal, healing sleep.

Protecting herself, mending herself. Just like the TARDIS.

The Doctor smiled at Bjorn, deciding to take up his offer of food. After the strain of the day, he was feeling quite peckish. 'I think I will come in now.'

Fitz had changed out of his ruined silk shirt and was now wearing one of Bjorn's, a blue-andblack-checked lumberjack thing. It felt thick and as heavy as a jacket in the humid evening. For once, however, Fitz was past caring how he looked. There were more important things to worry about.

An empty plate sat on the trestle table in front of him. He'd polished off a pile of cold meat, cheese, hard-boiled eggs, salad, some fish stuff and whisky, and now felt as fat as a house, and very tired. The events of the preceding day kept going round in his head: the disappearance of Sam, the strange insect, the hole, the thing in the forest, Johan. All connected in some way. The Doctor seemed convinced there was some sort of alien invasion under way, but Fitz doubted that. He was beginning to doubt a lot of what the Doctor was saying, even beginning to doubt the Doctor himself.

Fitz yawned, and decided it was time to hit the hay. Which, if there were no spare beds, could be a literal description of the sleeping arrangements. As he stood up, the Doctor and Bjorn came in. Both of them were smiling, which Fitz thought was a bit off, considering all that had happened.

Bjorn sat down opposite Fitz and took the whisky bottle, pouring a generous measure.

'Ah, Fitz,' said the Doctor. 'How are you set for a spot of midnight breaking and entering?'

Fitz rolled his eyes. 'You may as well ask me to sprout wings and fly.'

'That won't be necessary.' The Doctor rubbed his hands together. 'We're going back to the hospital. I'm pretty sure they've hidden Johan somewhere.'

Fitz groaned. 'Doctor, there's no way I'm going back there now.'

The Doctor frowned. 'Why?'

Fitz's anger boiled over. 'Because I'm rather f.a.gged out. It's so easy for you. You're the guy with two hearts, who never farts. Never swears, smokes, drinks, or even sweats. Well, I'm sorry, Doctor, I can't even begin to come up to your ideal. I'm only b.l.o.o.d.y human!'

The Doctor raised his hands and made shushing noises. 'Sorry, sorry, sorry!'

'There's nothing we can do,' said Fitz. 'Look, I'm going to get some sleep. We'll all be fresher in the morning and then we can talk.'

The Doctor nodded.

Then Fitz noticed someone standing in the door. Kerstin, still in her white shorts, though she'd put on a black T shirt to replace the yellow one, which had been stained with Johan's blood. Her left arm was bandaged and her face was puffy. 'What were you talking about?'

Fitz shrugged. 'Just things.'

Kerstin walked up to the table. 'Don't lie to me. I heard you talking about going back to the hospital, to find Johan.'

The Doctor smiled blandly. 'It was just an idea.'

'I'm with you,' she said.

'Oh, b.u.g.g.e.r,' muttered Fitz.

'What's your problem?' said Kerstin. 'I thought you were a UN operative.'

'Well,' said Fitz.

'Um,' said the Doctor.

'Shh!' said Bjorn.

They all looked at him. He was clutching the whisky bottle, and his eyes were wide. 'There's something outside.'

Just as he finished speaking Fitz could hear it. A scrabbling at the wooden exterior. As though something was trying to get in.

'Just an escaped pig, isn't it?' said Fitz, hoping fervently that it was.

Bjorn shook his head.

The scrabbling was coming from all around them, and something leapt at the kitchen window. Fitz caught a glimpse of a round maw with sharp white teeth and spiny, green flesh.

'We're surrounded!' cried Fitz. 'What the h.e.l.l are we gonna do?'

The Doctor looked around the room, waving his hand. 'Under siege, there's only one thing we can do barricade ourselves in and try to hold out.'

Kerstin's eyes were wide and she was walking towards the window, as if in a trance.

She'd be easy meat, thought Fitz. Ripped to pieces in seconds.

This could have happened to Sam, too.

'Kerstin,' said Fitz, putting his hands on her shoulders. He couldn't believe he was taking charge here. 'Listen to me. Go upstairs and shut yourself into your room.'

She didn't move or speak, just stared at him with a gla.s.sy expression.

He shook her more roughly. 'Now!' He shoved her out of the kitchen and watched her half stumble, half run up the stairs. He heard the bedroom door slam and then, to his right, from the sitting room, there came the sudden, startling sound of breaking gla.s.s.

Fitz darted across the hall and slammed the living-room door closed, just as something small and powerful hammered into it from the other side, splintering the white-painted wood. He scurried back into the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Bjorn was just sitting at the trestle table, staring into the middle distance. 'They've come back,' he whispered. 'For me.'

The Doctor had found Bjorn's double-barrelled shotgun, propped up in a corner, but he wasn't b.l.o.o.d.y doing anything with it, just staring at it. 'Doctor! Pick up the gun!' yelled Fitz.

The Doctor put both hands to his head. 'I I can't!'

Then something began b.u.t.ting at the outside of the door. The thing had obviously got out of the living room. To his horror, Fitz saw the kitchen door slowly start to open, and heard the scrabble of claws on carpet as the creature prepared for another run-up.

Fitz hurled himself at the door, slamming it closed just as the creature impacted from the other side. It was like getting a breeze block in the shoulder and Fitz yelled in pain. He had to use all his strength to keep the door shut. 'It's b.l.o.o.d.y strong!' he shouted.