Chapter Ninety: The Forest of the Dead

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"Hey! Who turned out the lights?"

There is nowhere else to go. Grabbing for her squareness gun, River opens up the wall next to us in a last bid for escape. "This way, quickly, move!"

We keep running this time. The shadows follow, closing in on all sides. It takes a while before River opens up a wall and leads us into another rotunda, with a circular skylight. "Okay, we've got a clear spot. In, in, in! Right in the centre, in the middle of the light, quickly! Don't let your shadows cross."

Seeing him at the edge of the safe zone, I nervously warn him, "Doctor..."

"I'm doing it," he calls back, fiddling with the settings on his sonic.

"There's no lights here. Sunset's coming, we can't stay long." She doubles over, hands resting on her knees for support as she breathes deep. "Have you found a live one?"

He doesn't reply for a moment, too distracted with his search. "Maybe, it's getting harder to tell." The sonic flickers and he slaps it a few times. "What's wrong with you?"

I fall to the floor in my exhaustion and allow my aching legs to rest. The darker it gets, the more the shadows creep in, the harder I find it to breathe.

River clears her throat and looks around at her colleagues. "We're going to need a chicken leg. Who's got a chicken leg?" Reluctantly, Dave pulls out the one he seemed to have been keeping for later, wrapped up in tinfoil in his pocket. She tosses it at the shadow and it immediately turns to bone. "Okay, we've got a hot one. Watch your feet."

"They won't attack until there's enough of them, but they've got our scent now, they're coming."

Groaning, I hide my head in my hands and try to shut out the drumbeat pounding in my ears. My hands only muffle the sound so much. I still hear Dave's hushed question, "Who is he? You haven't told us. You just expect us to trust him."

She glances over her shoulder at him. "He's the Doctor."

"And who is the Doctor?"

"The only story you'll ever tell, if you survive him."

I shut my eyes tightly and try harder to block out their voices but it's no use. "You say he's your friend," Anita hisses, "but he doesn't even know who you are."

"Listen, all you need to know is this: I'd trust that man to the end of the universe — and, actually, we've been."

They all go quiet as his footsteps come and go. "He doesn't act like he trusts you."

She sighs, "Yeah, there's a tiny problem. He hasn't met me yet."

"You love him, don't you?"

Everyone looks to me. My whisper is hoarse, barely audible, but I know she hears it. For a moment, she hesitates, caught out. "That's a very big question to ask, Inara. What makes you think I do?"

I shrug helplessly, tears threatening to fall. "Because you know his eyes."

She remains silent.

"Nobody ever notices them," I continue with a despairing laugh. "They just think, 'brown'. But there's so much more, you and I both know that. He's lived a long time, he's seen a lot. And they show it."

With that, she moves over, coming to kneel in front of my huddled form. She goes to rest a hand on my quaking knee but thinks better of it. "I'm not trying to come between anything, I hope you know that. I didn't know you would be here."

My fidgeting stops. I look up in alarm. "What's that supposed to mean?" When she doesn't answer, I catch hold of her wrist. "River, do you know me, too? Have we met?"

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