Tunnels 01, Tunnels

Which of them was it to be this time?
    "Visitors."
    They looked at each other in disbelief.
    "Visitors? For us?" Chester asked incredulously.
    The officer shook his massive head, then looked at Will. "You."
    "What about Ches--"
    "You, come on, NOW!" the officer shouted.
    "Don't worry, Chester, I won't go anywhere without you," Will said confidently to his friend, who sat back with a pained smile and nodded in silent affirmation.
    Will stood up and shuffled out of the cell. Chester watched as the door clanged shut. Finding himself once more alone, he looked down at his hands, rough and ingrained with dirt, and longed for home and comfort. He felt the increasingly frequent sting of frustration and helplessness, and his eyes filled with hot tears. No, he wouldn't cry, he would not give them the satisfaction. He knew Will would work something out, and that he'd be ready when he did.
    "Come on, stupid," he said quietly to himself, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Drop and give me twenty," he mimicked his soccer coach's voice as he got down on the floor and began to do push-ups, counting as he did so.
    Will was shown into a whitewashed room with a polished floor and some chairs arranged around a large oak table. Sitting behind this were two figures, still a little bleary to him because his sight hadn't yet adjusted from the darkness of the Hold. He rubbed his eyes and then glanced down at his front. His shirt was filthy and, worse still, specked with dried traces of his vomit. He brushed at it feebly before his attention was drawn to an odd-looking hatch or window on the wall to his left. The surface of the glass, if it was glass, had a peculiar blue-black depth to it. And this matte and mottled surface didn't seem to be reflecting any of the light from the orbs in the room.
    For some reason, Will couldn't take his eyes off the surface. He felt a sudden twinge of recognition. A new, yet familiar, feeling swept over him: They were behind there. They were watching all this. And the longer he stared, the more the darkness filled him, just as it had with the Dark Light. He felt a sudden spasm in his head. He pitched forward as though he was about to faint, and his left hand groped wildly and found the backrest of the chair in front of him. The officer, seeing this, caught him by his other arm and helped him to sit down, facing the pair of strangers.
    Will took some deep breaths, and the light-headedness passed. He looked up as someone coughed. Opposite him sat a large man and, at his side but a little behind him, a young boy. The man was much like all the others Will had seen -- it could easily have been the Second Officer in civilian clothing. He was staring fixedly at Will with barely concealed contempt. Will felt too drained to care, and numbly returned the stranger's gaze.
    Then, as chair legs grated loudly on the floor and the boy moved closer to the table, Will focused his attention on him. The boy was looking at Will with an expression of wonder. He had an open and friendly face, the first friendly countenance Will had seen down there since he had been arrested. Will estimated that the boy was probably a couple of years younger than he was. His hair was almost white and closely cropped, and his soft blue eyes shimmered with mischievousness. As the corners of the boy's mouth curled into a smile, Will thought that he seemed vaguely familiar. He tried desperately to remember where he'd seen him before, but his mind was still too cloudy and unclear. He narrowed his eyes at the boy and tried again to figure out where he knew him from, but it was no use. It was as if he were casting around in a murky pool, trying to find something precious with only his sense of touch to guide him. His head began to spin, and he clenched his eyes shut and kept them that way.
    He heard the man clear his throat. "I am Mr. Jerome," he said in a flat and perfunctory tone. It was clear from his voice that he was uncomfortable with the situation and very resentful at being there. "This is my son..."
    "Cal," Will heard the boy say.
    "Caleb," the man quickly corrected.
    There was a long and awkward pause, but Will still didn't open his eyes. He felt insulated and safe with them shut. It was oddly comforting.
    Mr. Jerome looked testily at the Second Officer. "This is useless," he grunted. "A total waste of time."
    The officer leaned forward and brusquely prodded Will's shoulder. "Sit up and be civil to your family. Show some respect."
    Startled,