Tunnels 02, Deeper

timber planking, which had been exposed to intense heat and downpours of water along the route with such regularity that it had become badly warped. Wide cracks had opened up between the planks, letting in the smoke and rushing wind as the train rocketed along, and making Sarah's journey not much more tolerable than the one Will and the boys had experienced in their open car.
    Crude wooden benches ran down the interior of the carriage on both sides, and two small, knee-high tables were bolted to the floor at either end, the rearmost of which was occupied by the four Limiters.
    The soldiers were clad in their distinctive fatigues, the dun-brown long coats and loose-fitting pants with thick kneepads so very different from the clothes generally worn by the Styx. Sarah had also been issued a set and was now wearing them, although it made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. She imagined what Tam would have said about it if he'd seen her in the uniform of their archenemies. Feeling the lapel of her long coat, she conjured up the look of mortification on her brother's face. She could almost hear his voice.
    Oh, Sarah, how did you get yourself into this? What do you think you're doing?
    Not being able to dispel the feeling of unease, she found it hard to keep still, and each time she altered her position on the unforgiving wooden bench, the fatigues made not the slightest sound. It debunked the claim she'd heard that they were made from Coprolite skin; they appeared instead to be cut from exceptionally supple leather, the finest calfskin, perhaps. She assumed this was so that the Limiters could move with greater stealth, free from the trademark creaking of the jet-black counterparts they sported in the Colony.
    The Limiters seemed to take turns resting, two sleeping with their feet on the table while the other two remained awake and inhumanly still, sitting bolt upright with their eyes staring straight ahead. There was a sort of fierce alertness about all of them, even the ones who were napping, as if they were ready to go into action in the blink of an eye.
    Sarah and Rebecca didn't attempt conversation because of the constant noise -- louder than usual, Rebecca had informed her, because the train was moving at twice its normal speed.
    Instead Sarah examined what looked like a rather old and battered brown school satchel on the table in front of Rebecca. A wad of Topsoil newspapers poked out from it, and Sarah could make out the melodramatic headline of the uppermost one, which read ULTRA BUG STRIKES in bold letters. Sarah had been out of touch with events on the surface for some weeks and had no inkling what it meant. Just the same, she spent many hours during the journey pondering how it could possibly be of interest to Rebecca and the Styx. She itched to take out the newspapers and read more.
    But for the duration of their journey Rebecca had not once closed her eyes or nodded off. Lounging back against the side of the carriage, her arms neatly crossed on her lap, it was as if she was in a deep meditative state. Sarah found it more than a little disconcerting.
    The only exchange with the Styx girl came later on, when the train eventually slowed to a crawl, then stopped altogether.
    Snapping out of her strange state of suspension, Rebecca suddenly leaned forward and spoke to Sarah.
    "Storm gates," she said simply, then slipped the newspapers out of her satchel and began to flick through them.
    Sarah nodded but didn't reply, since at that very moment there was a low clanking from somewhere up ahead. The Limiters stirred, one of them passing around mess tins filled with strips of dried jerky and battered white-enameled mugs of water. Sarah took hers, thanking the man, and they ate in silence as the train started up again. It had hardly gone any distance when it came to another shuddering halt, and the gates were slammed shut.
    Rebecca was studying her newspaper intently.
    "What's all that about?" Sarah inquired, squinting at the headline, which read PANDEMIC -- IT'S OFFICIAL . "Are these recent papers?"
    "Yes. I got them this morning when I was Topsoil." Rebecca flicked her eyes heavenward, closing her newspaper. "Silly me! I keep forgetting you know your way around London. I bought them a stone's throw from St. Edmund's -- you're probably familiar with it?"
    "The hospital... in Hampstead," Sarah confirmed.
    "One and the same," Rebecca said. "And, boy oh boy, you should have seen the free-for-all outside the emergency room.