Tunnels 01, Tunnels

seemed to be coming from the very ground itself. They paused briefly to inspect one of the streetlights.
    "It's like the--"
    "Yes," Will interrupted, unconsciously touching his pocket where his father's luminescent orb was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief. The glass sphere of the streetlight was a much larger version of this, almost the size of a soccer ball, and held in place by a four-pronged claw atop a cast-iron post. A pair of snow-white moths circled erratically about it like epileptic moons, their dry wings fluttering against the surface of the glass.
    Will stiffened abruptly and, lifting his head back, sniffed again -- looking not unlike the eyeless rat on the cogwheel.
    "What's up?" Chester asked with trepidation. "Not more trouble?"
    "No, just thought... I smelled something. It was kind of like... ammonia... something sharp. Didn't you notice it?"
    "No." Chester sniffed several times. "I hope it's not poisonous."
    "Well, it's gone now, whatever it was. And we're fine, aren't we?"
    "Suppose so. But do you think anyone really lives here?" Chester replied as he looked up at the windows of the buildings. They turned their attention to the nearest houses, silent and ominous, as if daring them to approach.
    "I don't know."
    "Well, what's it all doing here, then?"
    "Only one way to find out," Will said as they crept gingerly toward the house. It was simple and elegant, constructed of sandstone masonry, almost Georgian in style. They could just make out heavily embroidered curtains behind the twelve-paned windows on either side of the front door, which was painted with thick green gloss and had on it a door knocker and bell push of deeply burnished brass.
    "One sixty-seven," Will said in wonder as he spotted the digits above the knocker.
    "What is this place?" Chester was whispering as Will caught a faint flicker of light in a chink between the curtains. It shimmered, as if it came from a fire.
    "Shhh!" he said as he crept over and crouched down below the window, then slowly rose above the sill and peered with one eye through the small gap. His mouth gaped open in silent awe. He could see a fire burning in a hearth. Above this was a dark mantelpiece on which there were various glass ornaments. And as the light from the fire danced around the room, he could just make out some chairs and a sofa, and the walls, which were covered in framed pictures of varying sizes.
    "Come on, what's there?" Chester said nervously, continually looking back at the empty street as Will squashed his face against the dirty pane of glass.
    "You won't believe this!" Will replied, moving aside to let his friend see for himself. Chester eagerly pressed his nose against the window.
    "Wow! It's a real room!" he said, turning to look at Will, only to find him already on the move, working his way along the front of the house. He stopped as he reached the corner of the building.
    "Hey! Wait for me," Chester hissed, terrified he was going to be left behind.
    Between this building and the next one in the row, a short alley ran straight back to the tunnel wall. Will poked his head around the corner and, once he was satisfied it was clear, beckoned to Chester that they should move on to the next house.
    "This one's number is 166," Will said as he examined its front door, which was almost identical to the one on the first house. He tiptoed to the window but was unable to see anything at all through the dark panes.
    "What's there?" Chester asked.
    Will held a finger to his lips, then retraced his steps back to the front door. Looking at it closely, a thought occurred to him and his eyes narrowed. Recognizing the look, Chester reached out to try to stop him, spluttering, "Will, no!"
    But it was too late. Will had barely touched the door when it swung inward. They exchanged glances and then both inched slowly inside, twinges of excitement and fear simultaneously surging through them.
    The hallway was spacious and warm, and they both became aware of a potpourri of smells -- cooking, fire smoke -- and of human habitation. It was laid out just like any normal house; wide stairs started halfway down the corridor, with brass carpet rails at the base of each riser. Waxed wood paneling ran up to a handrail, above which was wallpaper of light and dark green stripes. Portraits in ornate, dull-gold-colored frames hung on the walls, depicting sturdy-looking people with huge shoulders and pale faces. Chester was peering at one of these when a terrible thought