Tunnels 01, Tunnels

peering at the other man, who was now crossing the road toward the crowd outside the tavern.
    "Don't look at him... that's Heraldo Walsh. A cutthroat... nasty piece of work," Cal warned.
    "A burglar, lowest of the low," Tam growled.
    "But what's he doing talking to a Styx, then?" Will said, totally confused.
    "Wheels within wheels," Tam muttered. "The Styx are a devious bunch. A belt becomes a snake with them." He turned to Will. "Look, I may be able to help you with Chester, but you've got to promise me one thing," he whispered.
    "What's that?"
    "If you get caught, you'll never implicate Cal, me, or any of us. Our lives and our families are here and, like it or not, we have to stay in this place with the White Necks... the Styx. That's our lot. And I'll say it again: They'll never let it rest if you cross them... they will do everything they can to catch up with you--" Suddenly, Tam broke off.
    Will saw the alarm in Cal's eyes. He spun around. Heraldo Walsh was standing not five feet away. And behind him a throng of drunkards had parted fearfully to allow a phalanx of brutish-looking Colonists through. They were clearly Walsh's gang -- Will saw the fiery hatred in their faces. His blood ran cold. Tam immediately stepped to Will's side.
    "What do you want, Walsh?" Tam said, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.
    "Ah, my old friend, Tamfoolery," Heraldo Walsh said with a vile, gappy grin. "I just wanted to see this Topsoiler for myself."
    Will wished the ground would open up and swallow him.
    "So you're the type of scum that chokes our air channels and pollutes our houses with your foul sewage. My daughter died because of your kind." He took a step closer to Will, raising his hand threateningly, as if he was going to grab at the pertrified boy. "Come 'ere, you stinking filth!"
    Will cowered. His first impulse was to run, but he knew his uncle wasn't about to let anything happen to him.
    "That's far enough, Walsh." Tam took a step toward the man to block his approach.
    "You're fraternizing with the godless, Macaulay," Walsh yelled, his eyes never leaving Will's face.
    "And what do you know of God?" Tam retorted, stepping fully in front of Will to shield him. "Now, you drop it! He's family!"
    But Heraldo was like a dog with a bone -- he wasn't about to let go. Behind him, his supporters were egging him on and cursing.
    "You call that family?" He thrust a dirt-stained finger at Will. "Sarah Jerome's mongrel?"
    At this, several of his men let out wild howls and whoops.
    "He's the filthy offspring of that traitorous woman who ran for the sun," Heraldo snapped.
    "That's it," Tam hissed through his clenched teeth. He slung the dregs of his beer at the man, hitting him square in the face, dousing his hair and sideburns with the watery gray fluid.
    "Nobody insults my family, Walsh. Step up to the scratch," Tam scowled.
    Heraldo Walsh's coterie began to chant, "Milling, milling, milling!" and very soon cheers filled the air as everyone out on the sidewalk joined in. Others came rushing out of the tavern door to see what all the commotion was about.
    "What's going on?" Will asked Cal, terrified out of his wits as the huge crowd hemmed them in. Right in the center of the closely packed, overexcited rabble, Tam stood resolutely in front of the dripping Heraldo Walsh, locked in an angry staring match.
    "A fistfight," Cal said.
    The pub owner, a stocky man in a blue apron, with a sweaty red face, pushed through the tavern doors and threaded his way through the mob until he reached the two men. He barged in between Tam and Heraldo Walsh and kneeled down to fix shackles to their ankles. As they both took a step back, Will saw that the shackles were connected by a length of rusty chain, so that the two fighters were bound together.
    Then the owner reached into his apron pocket and brought out a piece of chalk. He drew a line on the pavement halfway between them.
    "You know the rules." His voice boomed melodramatically, as much for the benefit of the crowd as for the two men. "Above the belt, no weapons, biting, or gouging. It stops on a KO or death.
    "Death?" Will whispered shakily to Cal, who nodded grimly.
    Then the pub owner ushered everyone back until a human boxing ring had been squared off. This wasn't an easy task, because people were jostling against one another as they vied for a view of the two men.
    "Step up to the mark," the man said loudly. Tam and Heraldo Walsh positioned themselves on either side of the chalk line.