Trevor Baxendale - Something in the Water

Flashing blue lights were approaching from the south east, accompanied by the long mournful wail of police sirens.

‘Damn,’ said Jack quietly.

‘Someone’s probably reported the dog barking,’ said Gwen. ‘Asbo time.’

‘Look!’ Jack shouted, pointing.

Twenty feet away, rising from the lake, was a thin, humanoid shape trailing long wet weeds like the rags of a cloak. Gwen scrambled for her torch, sweeping the beam across the lake, catching the dangling trail of slime as the figure rose higher into the night hair, water gushing from it like a miniature rain cloud.

It floated away into the darkness and Jack immediately sprinted after it, splashing spectacularly through the water.

‘Jack!’ Gwen called, just as a voice crackled in her ear. She put her hand up to her ear, shouting, ‘What?’

‘Gwen? It’s Owen. I’m on my way to the park. ETA five minutes. Ianto says the cops are heading your way too.’

‘Then bloody well step on it, Owen!’ Gwen ran around the lakeside after Jack. ‘We’re chasing a water hag!’

The thing floated no more than ten feet off the ground, trailing weeds and water through the small copse of trees which edged the lake. Jack flew after it, leaping into the air and grabbing hold of the dangling rags. He brought it crashing down into a pile of rotting leaves and mud.

‘Gotcha!’ he roared, only to receive a teeth-rattling blow to the side of his head which sent him reeling. He smashed into a tree, shook his head and then hurled himself on top of the thing again before it could properly regain its feet.

They rolled through the leaves, crashing into a patch of moonlight. Jack sat on top of it and saw a dark, twisted face the colour of mud staring up at him with insane, dirty yellow eyes. A thin mouth broke open to reveal dark, needle-like teeth in pale gums. The creature let out a foul hiss of rage and threw him off with phenomenal strength. Jack whirled, hit the dirt, and then looked up to find the thing pouncing on him. Yellow eyes glared and spit drooled from the dark fangs.

‘Naughty Jack!’ it screeched at him. She cuffed him across the face, drawing blood. Then she licked his face with a long, cold tongue. ‘You taste all wrong!’ she said, and spat it back at him. ‘You’re all messed up, Torchwood boy!’

‘OK, now I’m not just intrigued,’ said Jack. ‘I’m annoyed. Who the hell are you?’

‘I’m Sally Blackteeth!’

‘Lovely name. Got a boyfriend?’

She leaned down over him and smiled wickedly. ‘Professor Len. Did you know him?’

‘Bitch,’ said Jack.

‘Dead meat,’ said Sally Blackteeth.

‘Him or me?’

‘Both.’

She swung at him again, but he was ready for it this time, blocking with his left forearm, letting the wrist-strap take the brunt. She snarled and lashed out again, and this time he used the momentum to roll her off him so that he could swing himself up on top of her. It proved to be a bad move; by some strange anatomical contortion she managed to knee him in the groin. He curled up with a hard grunt of pain but now he could hear that the police sirens were getting much closer. Blue light flickered through the trees.

Sally Blackteeth twisted around, swiping Jack away with the back of one hand as he climbed to his knees. He looked back up just in time to see her disappearing into the glistening darkness and flashing lights.

Jack got back to his feet with a groan just as Gwen came running up. ‘It’s gone that way,’ she panted, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him after her.

‘She knew who I was,’ Jack said.

They stumbled through the trees and emerged by the lakeside, just as the water hag rose swiftly into the air. Jack pulled his gun and fired, sending two rounds after the fleeing shape.

‘Missed her,’ said Gwen.

‘Shine the light on it!’ he yelled, running down into the water, gun arm extended, taking his time now, sighting carefully.

Gwen had automatically counted his shots — three before and a double-tap just now. That left one more bullet in the gun. She waved the torch beam frantically until the light caught something glistening high in the air above.

Jack adjusted his aim, narrowed one eye, squeezed the trigger. The revolver boomed, its final word echoing over the lake before being drowned out by the noise of approaching policemen.

‘Armed police! Drop your weapon!’ shouted the first man on the scene, dropping to one knee and taking aim at Jack with a steady, two-handed grip on his automatic. ‘I said drop your weapon! Now!’

Jack turned around, eyebrow raised.

‘This is your final warning,’ bellowed the marksman. ‘Lower the gun to the ground or I will shoot.’

‘Back off,’ said Jack. ‘It’s Torchwood.’

The officer pulled the trigger as the last word left Jack’s lips. At this range, the first round was powerful enough to lift him right off his feet, and the second, catching him in the shoulder, spun him right around so that he hit the ground face down in the mud.

The marksman blinked, as if surprised by what he had just done. ‘Did he say Torchwood?’

‘Hold your fire!’ A voice echoed across the park, and Owen Harper strode out of the dark mist. ‘Lower your weapons. This entire area is now contained under a Torchwood restriction.’

The police officers were staring in dumb bewilderment at the scene in front of them: a headless dog lying in the mud, an eviscerated human corpse stretched out on the bank, Jack Harkness face down in the water, Gwen standing a little way off looking completely shocked. And Owen striding through them all, right up to the officer in charge until they were nose-to-nose.

‘You in charge here?’

‘I’m SOCO, yes,’ replied the officer stiffly. ‘Sergeant Kilshaw.’

‘Piss off, then,’ said Owen.

‘OK, Owen,’ Gwen said, walking over. ‘I’ll handle this now.’

The SOCO turned gratefully towards her. ‘Is this true? This is Torchwood business?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ Gwen said, mustering a smile from somewhere. She put on her official voice and said, ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you and your men to leave the area. Thanks for responding, but we’ll take over now.’

‘Uh … yeah. OK.’

The SOCO looked utterly bewildered, and Gwen softened her tone slightly. ‘You could set up a cordon around the park, though. We don’t want any innocent nosy parkers getting involved, do we?’

Sergeant Kilshaw nodded, as if only too glad to be given an excuse to withdraw. Then he hesitated, looking down at the gutted corpse dumped on the grass nearby. ‘Miss, we have a dead body here. I understand what you’re saying, and I know Torchwood has absolute priority, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving it like this.’

Gwen held his gaze, steady but not combative. ‘I’m sorry, but you said it yourself — absolute priority.’

‘I need to find out who he is. We have to inform his family. Can I do that?’

‘Not yet. We’ll liaise with you and get the details sorted out as soon as.’

Sergeant Kilshaw still wasn’t happy, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Yet he paused again, unwilling to leave without claiming some sort of concession. ‘What about my man?’ He indicated the officer who had shot Jack. Already another member of the firearms team was relieving the marksman of his weapon, and dropping it into a plastic evidence bag for the routine forensic tests that would follow. ‘There’ll be an enquiry. It’s the law.’

‘No need,’ drawled a voice from the lakeside. Jack was getting slowly to his feet, his face and coat soaked with muddy water and streaked with his own blood. He walked slowly across to the SOCO and smiled. ‘No harm done.’