Tunnels 02, Deeper

voice, staring straight into the light. It was so bright it hurt, but all he wanted was to bask in its eerie green flicker.
    Chester snapped out of his stupefaction. "Will..." he started.
    "Water," Will croaked. "Give me water." His voice was so thin and feeble, it came out as a throaty gush of air. Will pointed frantically. Chester realized what he wanted and hastily passed him his canteen.
    Will couldn't remove the stopper fast enough, fumbling at it pathetically with his fingers. Then it was off with a pop, and he rammed the neck into his mouth, gulping the water down greedily and trying to draw breath at the same time. It was going everywhere, slopping down his chin and chest.
    "Will, we thought we'd lost you!" Chester said.
    "Typical," Will gasped between mouthfuls. "I'm dying of thirst" -- he swallowed, the water beginning to rehydrate his vocal cords -- "while you're stuffing your face." He felt transformed, elated; the long hours spent in the dark were over, and he was safe again. He was saved. "Freakin' typical!"
    "You look really terrible," Chester said quietly.
    Will's face, normally pallid from his albinism, now appeared even paler, blanched from the salt crystals that had dried in a crust around his mouth and on his brow and cheeks.
    "Thanks," Will eventually mumbled, after another large gulp.
    "Are you OK?"
    "Awesome."
    "But how did you get here?" Chester asked. "Where've you been all this time?"
    "You don't want to know," Will replied, still rasping. He looked down the lava tube behind Chester. "Drake and the others... where are they? Where's Cal?"
    "They're out looking for you." Chester shook his head disbelievingly. "Will, dude, it's so good to see you. We thought you'd been caught, or shot, or something."
    "Not this time," Will said and, after a few breaths, he renewed his attack on the canteen, sucking at it until he'd drained the last drop. He belched contentedly, tossing the canteen to the ground, and then, finally, took in the concern etched on his friend's face. Chester's hand, grasping some food, was still poised in front of him. Dear old Chester . Will couldn't help but laugh, gently at first, then building to such a hysterical level that his friend edged back slightly.
    "Will...?"
    "Don't let me keep you from your snack," Will got out before he lapsed into another fit of sick-sounding laughter.
    "It's not funny," Chester said, lowering the food. Will didn't show any sign of stopping his strangled guffawing, and Chester's indignation grew. "I thought I'd never see you again," he declared earnestly. "For serious."
    There, on his grubby face, his lips covered with crumbs, a big grin began to form. "Whatever. You're stark, raving bonkers, you are." He shook his head. "Bet you're starving. Want some of this?" he offered, gesturing at the open pouch on top of the backpack.
    "Gracias, mate. I certainly would," Will said gratefully.
    "No problem. It's your food, anyway -- this is your rucksack. Drake grabbed your kit when we ran for it."
    "Well, glad you weren't going to waste it!" Will said, punching him gently on the arm. Will felt close to his friend again, and it felt good. "You know... the batteries died in my flashlight. I didn't even have an orb. I thought I was a goner," he told him.
    "No way. How'd you make it down here, then?" Chester asked.
    "I hitched a ride," Will replied. "How do you think I got here? I walked."
    "No. Way!" Chester exclaimed, shaking his shaggy head.
    Will looked at the inane grin on his friend's face. He'd seen the same big, stupid smile that day when they were reunited on the Miners' Train, and although it had only been two months ago, it felt like several lifetimes. So much had happened, so much had changed.
    "You know," he said to Chester, "I think I'd even rather go back to school than do that again!"
    "That bad, huh?" his friend asked with mock gravity.
    Will nodded, rolling his swollen tongue around his lips, appreciating the novelty of spit once more.
    Chester's voice burbled on in the background, but Will was too exhausted to listen any longer. He gently slipped into a languor, his head lolling back against the rock behind him. His legs twitched slightly, as if finding it hard to break from the rhythm of the protracted slog they'd been put through. But their movement became less and less until they were completely still, and Will found a well-earned oblivion, unaware of the horrible chain of events taking place that very moment on the Great