Tunnels 02, Deeper

gray.
    In between these primordial trees, copses of the bloated succulents and the trailing brambles, so tightly interwoven, gave the impression of the thickest jungle in the dead of night. And Will could see small white fluttering insects dithering between the high branches of the trees. Those nearest to him were clearly the same species of snowy moth he had first seen in the Colony. And Will heard an infrequent, familiar sound -- one that evoked the Topsoil countryside so strongly he smiled. The chirping of crickets!
    It was several moments before he wrenched his gaze away from the whole scene.
    Cal and Chester, both still trying to get their breath back, were throwing worried glances at the stretch of water before them. Will looked past the two boys to where Elliott was kneeling as she surveyed the shoreline through her rifle scope.
    Will went to her side, curious as to what was churning up the water so violently, and found himself standing at the precise spot where a fluxing white line broke its surface. It arced away into the gloom, a mass of shifting white striations of froth and spume on one side.
    "This is the causeway," Elliott said in an offhand manner, anticipating his question.
    She got to her feet and the boys straggled around her.
    "We're going to cross here. If you slip, you'll be washed away. So don't." Her voice sounded flat, telling them nothing about what she was thinking.
    "There's some sort of rock outcrop under here, isn't there?" Will pondered aloud, taking a few steps forward to thrust his hand into the bubbling froth. "Yes... here it is."
    "I wouldn't," Elliott warned.
    Will snatched his hand back quickly.
    "There are things in there that'll take your fingers off," she continued, and as she did so she turned up her lantern and shone it over the water so they could see the expanse of nothingness, the huge black sheets extending across both sides of the causeway. Each of the boys shuddered despite the warmth of their surroundings.
    "Please tell us where you're taking us," Will begged her. "Is there any reason why you're keeping us in the dark?"
    His words hung in the air for several seconds before she answered.
    "All right," she said, letting out a breath. "We don't have much time, so I want you to listen carefully. OK?"
    Each of the boys muttered a yes in response.
    "I've never, ever seen so many Limiters down here in the Deeps before, and I don't like it. It's crystal clear that they've got something massive going on, and maybe that's why they're tying up loose ends."
    "What do you mean, loose ends?" Chester asked.
    "Renegades... us," Elliott answered. Then she tipped her light at Will. "And him." She looked down at the frothing water. "We're going somewhere safe so I can figure out what we should do next. Now, just follow me."
    She'd allowed them to turn their lights up several clicks, but the immensely powerful current pushed hard against their boots and threw up a steamy mist around them. The ledge on which they had to walk was uneven and coated with slippery weed. Every so often, it dipped well below the water's surface. Will could hear Chester grunting as he negotiated another of these most treacherous, invisible stretches, muttering with gratitude as he managed to get to where the ledge was more obvious again. Cal babbled up ahead, his voice often rising to a high pitch as if he was pleading for the terrifying crossing to end. There was nothing Will could do to help him -- each boy had his own watery tightrope to walk, just trying to take the next step without sliding from the ridge into the roiling nightmare expanse.
    They hadn't traveled very far when they heard -- they felt -- a huge splash.
    "Crikey! What was that?" Chester yelped, teetering to a stop on the ledge.
    Will could have sworn he caught a flash of a broad, pale-colored tail fin no more than fifteen feet away. They all peered apprehensively at the spot as the choppy water becalmed again.
    "Move!" Elliott urged.
    "But... " Chester said, pointing a quivering hand toward the water.
    "MOVE!" she repeated in a growl, glancing anxiously back at the beach. "We're like ducks in a shooting gallery out here."
    It took them about half an hour to reach dry land again. They collapsed onto the sandy foreshore, taking in another wall of thick jungle before them. But Elliott didn't allow a moment's respite, immediately herding them onward through coppices of the succulent plants and tangled clumps of the trailing stems with black