"Should we pick up Dave on the way?" Ash asked from behind the wheel of the SUV.
"Next left. Nah. Best not." I replied from the passenger side, without looking up from the navigational screen. "He wanted an early night, and a Weevil is no match for two of us. Right ahead." I returned to the screen, which was in fact a tablet computer. It synced up with both the vehicle and the Hub mainframe, and was capable of providing: sensory data, real time updates, basic sample analysis, access databases and more. We called it the Omni-Tab.
"Right, we should be nearing the location of the sighting. Let's head out onto the dock." I said, consulting the GPS tracker.
"Hmm. Road barrier in the way. It's almost as if they don't want people sneaking around at night. Fancy that." Ashley said, wryly.
"We are not people. Do we even look like people?" I replied, smiling.
"On a good day, maybe. Right, wanna buzz us through?"
"Not a problem." I said as I withdrew my sonic screwdriver from my jacket pocket. I pointed the device at the barriers and with a faint hum they began to raise, allowing our vehicle to enter. Ash drove as far as she could towards the warehouse farthest along the docks while I scanned our surroundings for signs of the Weevil. Only one vessel was moored on our side of the port, a massive slab of steel, shipping new imported cars. Between the warehouses were large drums of rope and cables, mooring posts and parked loading vehicles. The area was poorly lit, with the only significant light sources being the pale half moon and the SUV's own headlights. Shadows stretched long and wide, merging with the inky darkness surrounding us. Too many dark corners and large objects made for all too many hiding spots. Finding a Weevil in all this would be tedious at best, fatal at worst.
Not much is actually known about the Weevils, we don't even know where they come from. Torchwood operatives have suggested many theories over the years, but none have ever been confirmed, despite their presence throughout Torchwood's history. Some think they we share a common ancestor and that they are our evolutionary cousins. Others suggest that they are a species rift refugees fleeing the destruction of their own world, mangled into beastly husks by the time winds of the Vortex. More poetic minds imply they are the dark mirror of ourselves, an embodiment of our base impulses, or what we may eventually become. Personally, it doesn't matter where they originate, or why, I'm concerned with how to deal with them.
Whatever their origin, there are some facts on record. Weevils are humanoid, hunched figures with dark leathery skin and pronounced bared teeth like some kind of shaved chimp. They stand slightly shorter than the human average, with only a little patch of wispy hair covering their bald heads. Between their pointed teeth and viciously sharp claws, Weevils are lethal in a fight. Curiously, most Weevils encountered are actually found wearing Torchwood branded overalls. Perhaps this is due to Weevils who escape Torchwood incarceration, but the numbers still don't match up. Unless the Weevils have some form of manufacturing, this is yet another mystery of their kind. Weevils have no known language or hierarchy, sometimes living in harmonious groups, other times fighting violently, maybe for territory, food, or mating rights. They do however have a form of mewling, wailing song that appears to be a form of communication, akin to the grunts of our ancestors. Their level of intelligence is a matter of debate, with most estimates putting them at about the same level as canines. Weevils display a certain sensitivity to temporal effects, as well as an affinity for psychic empathy. Weevils are very sensitive to the emotions of their surroundings and of others, both Weevil and human, which can act over incredible distances.
Despite all the uncertainty, the only thing that is irrefutable is the danger they pose to civilians. Many Weevils stick to abandoned areas and underground tunnels such as sewers in small communities, but those who venture into populated areas are almost guaranteed to attack any human in sight. Rumours of crocodiles rising out of toilets abundant in Florida and other urban legends of savage beasts in the night can often be traced back to a high Weevil population in the area. As such, Torchwood acts as a form of pest control, securing rogue Weevils, incarcerating them and eventually releasing them in the country, or back into secluded areas. Assuming they can actually be taken alive of course.
Ashley stepped out of the SUV, and began to shine her torch around the area.
"Right. Only an entire dockland to search. Funsies."
"So much for an early night. Again. Told you this job wasn't all fun and games." I replied, extracting myself from the car to join in the search.
"Oh yeah, you woo me in with talk of space, and time, and broad horizons. You didn't mention the romantic moonlit jaunts through a shipping port, chasing a savage creature, with brutal death lurking behind every shadow." Ash said sarcastically, picking her way over a pile of tangled ropes.
"Feel free to quit anytime."
"And leave you with all the glory? Not a chance. Besides if you were solo you'd have been killed by now." Ashley said with a laugh.
"No way!" I said, feigning indignation.
"Yes way. You'd have been dead at least three times by my count."
"Two, surely. That time with the pelican doesn't count. It was your idea."
"I didn't count that one. It's still three." Ash smugly finished. After a short silence as we continued searching, she asked. "Black or red?"
"Now? The wedding is a month away." I moaned.
"Yeah, but you don't want to be buying a shirt last minute. Anyway, we have time to kill."
"Very true. I was thinking black shirt and a red tie, it'll look better for when my jacket is off over the meal." I mused, as I peered around a pallet of paving slabs.
"Plus, red makes you look like a tomato."
"It does not!"
"It so does! Especially when you get annoyed and your face blushes. See, like that."
"I..." I muttered, trying to find the words.
"Only messing. I love my tomato just the way he is." Ash said warmly, flashing me a warm smile. Suddenly, a deafening crack rang out across the open expanse of the port. Gunfire! With barely a glace at each other, Ash and I took off in the direction of the disturbance. Things had just escalated.
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