Guy Adams - The House That Jack Built - The House That Jack Built

'There,' Rob said, throwing the PDA to Hannah. 'Now hand her over.'

Hannah put the PDA on the floor and ran at Rob screaming and crying simultaneously. 'Life's so unfair!' she screeched, jumping at Rob and knocking both of them back into the waveform.

They were caught, twisting slowly as the ripples of space-time distortion pushed and pulled them, ageing bone and peeling skin, hair growing only to become dust.

'Stay back!' Alexander shouted as Ianto ran forward to try and help. 'There's nothing to be done.'

The two of them became less distinct as they broke up into chunks, pebbles, grit, then dust, dissipating around the waveform like sugar stirred into coffee.

'You made her do that!' Gwen shouted at Alexander.

'Oh shut up and grow a pair,' Alexander muttered. 'I did what had to be done. Now pass me the reader and hope the rain's not completely…'

'He's gone!' Joe wailed. 'What am I supposed to do with her if he's gone?' He whirled around in distress and stamped on the PDA.

Jack stepped out into a Penylan night at the turn of the twentieth century. Taking a breath of fresh air to cleanse his palate after the oppressive, static-filled atmosphere of Jackson Leaves, he walked to the centre of the hard concrete foundations and began to set his explosive charge.

'I can't see how you think that would help,' said a voice to his right.

He looked up and, squinting in the moonlight, tried to recognise the speaker. 'Alison?' he asked, then shook his head. 'No, of course not.'

'I thought you might prefer her to old Joan.'

The creature walked over to him and squatted by his side as he pushed the timed detonator into the plastic explosive.

'Is it that you just like destroying things?' she asked, lying back on the concrete. The illusion was perfect, the cool, evening breeze erupting gooseflesh all over her body as she squirmed in the dust.

'He can't help it,' said another voice from behind him and he wasn't altogether surprised to see Miles — or a perfect copy of him at least — walking towards him. 'He's a man, and we just love to break things apart.'

'Oh,' said Alison. 'I always thought better of him than that.'

She licked her lips and, even in the low light, Jack could tell the tongue was far too long, rolling across her cheek before dipping its tip into the corner of her eyes to drink.

'No you didn't,' he replied. 'At least the real Alison didn't — she knew me much better. She was under no illusion that I was anything but trouble.'

'How right she was,' said the Miles creature. 'I wonder if that's what she was thinking as I drowned her.'

Jack shook his head and placed the explosive on the ground. 'I imagine she was wishing she had agreed to marry someone much more stable.' He began to walk away. 'I didn't kill her. That arrogant, image-obsessed and deluded lover we shared did.' He turned back to them, trying not to notice how much their fake humanity was slipping as their bodies twisted in the darkness. 'I can't take the blame for everything that happens to people I know. Miles killed her because he couldn't stand who he was. That's sad but it's hardly my fault.'

The creatures gurgled deep in their throats, a sign of anger, Jack presumed. Miles, on all fours, began to scuttle back and forth, while Alison stretched along the floor, her biceps and thighs stretching like toffee as she writhed, limbs snaking away in different directions.

'You are ceasing to be an entertainment,' she said, her voice taking on a hollow quality as it bounced around her elongated chest. 'You would do well to stop this now before you anger us further.'

'Or what?' Jack asked. 'You may be close enough to this universe to make yourselves seen, but if you're that powerful, tell you what, stop the bomb yourself. Go on, all it takes is a finger on a button.' He smiled. 'You can't, can you? You have no real physical presence here, you're just voices and cheap threats. A pair of ghosts.'

Miles reared up, pulling at his dream skin as if even the pretence of flesh was a discomfort to him. 'What do we need hands for,' he asked, the words distorting as he yanked at his mouth, pulling his cheeks out into a loose trumpet, 'when we have puppets to do our work for us?'

Jack smelled Locke before he felt him, but not soon enough to avoid the blow that sent him to the floor in a spiral of cement dust.

'You stupid idiot!' Alexander roared at Joe. 'I've a good mind to send you running into the waveform.'

'You try it, and I swear you'll follow him,' Gwen warned.

Ianto tucked the handgun into the back of his trousers. 'You thought you knew where the safe passage was,' he said to Alexander.

'What are you talking about?' the old man snapped.

'Just before Rob woke up,' Ianto reminded him. 'You were looking at the reader screen and you thought you knew which way we should go.'

Alexander tried to remember. 'Yes…' he said. 'It was about there…' He pointed to the far left of the drive opening. 'But that hardly helps — it's not just about location, it's timing . We would have to move just as the waveform was at its weakest point.'

'Like ripples on water?' Ianto asked. 'When the waves are at their furthest reach, the centre is at its calmest.'

'Yes, and we can't possibly tell when that is without using the waveform reader.'

Ianto climbed into the SUV and began to perform a three-point turn.

'Careful!' Alexander shouted as the wheels nearly ran over him. He looked at Gwen. 'What does the boy think he's doing now?'

'I don't know,' Gwen admitted.

Ianto positioned the car so that it was facing the privet hedge, set the headlamps on full beam and got out. Pulling the gun out of his waistband, he turned towards Jackson Leaves. The house was beginning to lose cohesion now, windows running like mercury into the melted wax of the brick. He aimed the gun at the outside light and fired. The bulb shifted slightly in the distortion and the shot missed. He fired again, this time allowing for the movement and the bulb shattered, leaving the headlights as the only illumination.

'When you've quite finished taking pot shots at the bloody house,' Alexander said, 'perhaps we might like to come up with a plan for getting out of here.'

'Look at the rain,' Gwen said as Ianto walked over to Alexander and picked him up off the ground.

Shining in the beam of the SUV lights, the pattern of the rain as it followed the contours of the waveform was clear, glistening ripples sweeping across the pitch-black absence of the outside world beyond the limits of the house.

'Careful!' Alexander whined, his broken wrist twisting against Ianto's body as he was hoisted up. He stared at the water pattern as Ianto walked right up to the edge of the driveway. 'You know, lad,' he chuckled, 'you might just have cracked this… Now, careful, it's all a question of…'

Ianto threw him at the barrier, where he vanished into the darkness.

'Timing?' he said. 'Looks like it works to me.' He turned to Gwen and Joe, who was still carrying the unconscious Julia over his shoulder. 'Who's next then?'

Locke used his size to great effect, dropping onto Jack and knocking the wind out of him. Jack screwed his eyes against the bad halitosis and a slow dripping of blood that fell from Locke's mouth like a damaged tap. Behind them, the facsimiles of Alison and Miles scampered to and fro, whipped into excitement by the violence.

Locke made to grab Jack's face, hoping to grind it into the concrete, but Jack aimed a strong punch at the big man's armpit and sucked grateful air as Locke squealed and rolled off him. There was no doubt who had the advantage as long as he was on top, but Jack was fitter and back on his feet quickly, while Locke was still cradling his dead arm.