"He's not dead."
"But Doctor, there's no heartbeat. He's all blue, and cold." Martha knelt down and examined the man. His skin was a blueish grey, his trousers were ripped off below the knee, as if he'd gotten into a fight with a tiger, and his shirt hadn't fared much better. There were black circles under his eyes, and his hair stood up in spikey tufts, as if someone had grabbed it and pulled.
Martha reached out in disbelief and touched his hair, it was stiff. Hair didn't get rigormortis. Ice. Her fingers came away wet, smeared with cold water, and frost. She looked up at the Doctor in disbelief.
Suddenly the man gasped and sat bolt upright. Martha shrieked and jumped backward, bruising her hip on the console.
"Did it work?" Jack asked.
The Doctor folded his arms and shook his head. He was wearing a deerstalker hat, his unruly hair sticking out in the front. A deeply curved pipe poked out of the pocket of his manycaped greatcoat. He looked over at Martha who wore a halo and skimpy white sequins, a borrowed pair of angel wings sticking up from her back. He rolled his eyes at her and turned back to Jack.
"I know you talked us into dressing up for Halloween, Jack. But, I don't care how long you stand in the freezer. You, of all people, can't be a zombie."
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