EMERGENCY STOP
By; Gerald Polley
The strange, blue box appeared between the
dilapidated buildings with an irritating pumping, grinding sound.
Its doors slowly opened, and a wisp of smoke slowly drifted out.
A young man wearing a kilt and a fluffed white shirt emerged
coughing, followed by a young woman in a metallic pair of
overalls.
"I told ye there's somethin' wrong!" the young Scotsman
remarked.
A short, stout, dark-haired man emerged, looking back through the
door with a disgusted expression.
"I know, Jamie!" he said, "I know!" It's just
a little malfunction, a simple breakdown. The TARDIS
automatically materialized in the vicinity of what I need to make
the repairs. I simply need two fairly good-sized diamonds, and
about five pounds of copper, and I can repair the guidance
system. It's no great problem, really. Now, let's look around.
What's the matter, Zoe?" the Doctor asked, looking at his
young female companion.
"It's strange, Doctor," she said, "Have we ever
been here before?"
"I don't think so," the Doctor replied. "We're
somewhere in North America, in the late 1800's. The instruments
weren't too accurate beyond that."
The young man and young woman looked at each other.
"The old west?" Zoe cried. "Gunfighters,
desperadoes, all that?"
"Oh, I suppose there are some of them around," the
little man responded, as he rounded the corner, "but I doubt
we'll meet any."
At that moment he ran headlong into a young man coming the other
way. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and as the Doctor
righted himself, the barrel of a pistol came to rest inches from
his nose!
"Where in the name of hell did you people come from?"
the young man cried. "Get back! Get out of sight!
Quickly!"
The Doctor's two companions obeyed as the Doctor rose and moved
away from the menacing weapon.
"Young man," the Doctor stuttered, ""I would
appreciate it very much if you'd not point that thing in my
direction. It could most certainly do me a considerable amount of
harm."
The young man's eyes met the Doctor's who's reassuring smile was
returned, and the weapon was placed in its holster.
"If you folks don't want to get hurt," the young man
said, "lay down over there, and be absolutely quiet, no
matter what happens."
All three travelers quickly obeyed. The young man stepped back
around the corner from which he had appeared, and returned
carrying a double-barreled shotgun and repeating rifle. He had
barely taken the position he wanted when a great deal of shouting
erupted up the street, and the repeat of many weapons was heard.
Down the dusty thoroughfare, seven riders came, firing their
weapons in this direction and that, striking whomever might
happen to be in their way. The young man brought up the shotgun
in one hand and the pistol in the other.
As they roared to life, several of the riders were taken from
their mounts. As the riders passed, the shotgun and pistol fell
silent, and the repeating rifle came up. With terrible accuracy
it fired three times. When the dirt cleared, only three empty
horses sped from the town.
As curious onlookers filled the streets the young man reloaded
his weapons. The three travelers rose from their hiding place and
came forward.
"You folks alright?" their benefactor inquired, resting
the weapons on either shoulder.
"Yes," Zoe remarked, staring wild-eyed at the man
before her, realizing they were approximately the same age.
"Why, it's the marshall!" somebody cried. "Should
of known nobody else could shoot that well. Good job, marshall.
You got Diamond-Back Jackson and his whole gang. Can't say if
I've ever seen shootin' like that."