Tunnels 02, Deeper

took them along the water's edge and a short distance into what, in the pitch-black, looked like the beginning of an inlet.
    Will was in a bad way. The effects of the root had worn off and his fatigue had caught up. He walked stiff-legged, like some sort of Frankenstein's monster, the headset only adding to this impression. Elliott watched him closely.
    "He's fried: he needs some shut-eye," she said to Chester and Cal, as if Will wasn't present -- and indeed he didn't react to her comment, swaying where he stood. "He's no use to anyone right now."
    Chester and Cal exchanged looks.
    "No use?" Chester echoed.
    "Yes, and that's not good enough." She turned to Cal, running her eye over him. "How about you? How's the leg, kid?"
    Chester realized that she was evaluating them and it put him on edge. He didn't delude himself that they all needed to be up to the challenge of escaping from the Styx. But her question was more than a little ominous.
    "His leg's much better. He's been resting it," he put in quickly, throwing a sharp look at Cal, who was a little surprised at Chester's intervention.
    "Can't he speak for himself?" Elliott glowered.
    "Oh, yes, sorry," Chester mumbled apologetically.
    "So how is it?"
    "Like Chester said... much better," Cal replied, flexing his leg to try to put Elliott's mind at rest. In truth it was incredibly stiff, and each time he put any weight on it he didn't know if it was going to support him or not.
    Elliott studied Cal's face for a second, then switched her attention to Chester, who wondered whether he would come up to scratch. But before she could issue any judgments, Will mumbled the word tired -- just once -- sat down heavily, and flopped onto his back. Snoring loudly, he immediately fell into the deepest of slumbers.
    "He's out. He'll be right as rain in a couple of hours," Elliott said, then addressed Cal. "You stay with your brother." She handed him the loose rifle scope. "And keep an eye on the foreshore... particularly the causeway." She pointed at the sea and the impenetrable blackness. "I need to know if you see anything, anything at all, however small. It's really important you stay alert... got that?"
    "Why, where are you going?" Cal asked, trying to keep the anxiety from his voice. He'd been worried before that he would be abandoned, and now that Elliott had lost Drake, the fear returned in spades. Was she planning to slope off with Chester and leave him and Will high and dry?
    "Not far... just need to do some foraging," she told him. "Look after this, too," she said, shrugging off her rucksack and dropping it beside Will's still form. That single action allayed Cal's fears -- Elliott wasn't going to get very far without her kit. He watched as she pulled out a couple of sacks from the side pocket and then, accompanied by Chester, slipped into the darkness.
    "How are you doing?" Chester asked Elliott as he walked beside her. He was using the lantern on its lowest setting, shielding it with his hand so there was the thinnest strip of light to illuminate the way. As ever, Elliott didn't require any light, seeming to possess a preternatural awareness of her surroundings. They were moving deeper into the inlet, keeping the dense undergrowth to their left and the sea to their right.
    Elliott didn't reply to his question, maintaining a brooding silence. Knowing how distraught she must be at Drake's death, Chester felt compelled to say something, but found it incredibly difficult to do so. Although he'd spent a considerable amount of time with her on their patrols together, it wasn't as though they spoke much on these outings. He realized he hadn't actually gotten to know her any better since that day when she and Drake had grabbed him and Will. She kept to herself, as elusive as a faint breeze in the dead of night that you could feel but you couldn't touch.
    He tried again.
    "Elliott, are you... are you really all right?"
    "Don't you worry 'bout me," came the curt response.
    "I just want you to know we're all very sorry about Drake... We owe him for... for everything." Chester paused for a few moments. "Was it awful, back there, when Will had to... uh... to...?"
    Without any warning she came to a stop and shoved him hard in the chest, with such unbridled aggression that Chester was completely taken aback. "Don't try to mollycoddle me! I don't need anyone's sympathy!"
    "I wasn't--"
    "Just drop it, will you?"
    "Look, I'm worried about you," he said indignantly. "We're all worried about