Tunnels 02, Deeper

shoulder, simultaneously trying to get a view of the island in the pitch-black.
    "I've got them exactly where I want them," Elliott said quietly.
    " You've got them exactly where you want them? " Chester's voice wheezed with incredulity. "Surely you--"
    "Slow fuses," Elliott interrupted. "My specialty."
    The tone of her voice told them nothing, and they all waited, with just the sounds of the creaking boat and the swirling water around them, and the odd splash from the continuing gunfire.
    "Any second now..." Elliott said.
    A flash lit up the stretch of beach from which they had set out to sea. It looked deceptively tiny to the boys over the distance. Then the sound of the blast reached them, making them all jump.
    "What the--" Cal exclaimed, sitting up.
    "No, wait..." Elliott said, holding up her hand. Her outline was thrown into sharp relief by the far-off flames. "If any of them lived through that, they'll be falling over themselves like scalded rats to get inland and away from the beach." She began to count, inclining her head ever so slightly with each number.
    The boys held their breaths.
    A second explosion, far mightier than the first, erupted with massive red and yellow starbursts that streaked high into the cavern, their plumes leaping over the tops of the tall fern trees. It seemed to Will that the whole island must have been blown to smithereens. They all felt the force of the blast on their faces, and pieces of airborne debris were already falling into the water around them.
    "Blimey!" gasped Cal.
    "Awesome!" said Chester. "You totaled the island!"
    "What the heck was that? " Will asked, wondering if there'd be anything left of the wildlife, or whether it would all be engulfed by fire -- though he had to admit that if a few shabby primordial chickens got their tail feathers singed, then he wasn't overly concerned.
    "That was the clincher," Elliott said. "The perfect ambush...and the first explosion drove them straight into it."
    It was as if the flames were floating on the surface of the sea itself, sending long reflections across the inky waters. For the first time Will could gauge the vastness of the space they were in: the far-off coastline to his right was dimly lit up, but there was absolutely nothing visible in the direction they were heading nor any sign of land at all to his left.
    With the sound of the explosion still resonating around the immense cavern, debris continued to fall close to the boat, much of it burning until it hit the water and sizzled out.
    "Did you set all that up?" Chester asked Elliott.
    "Drake and I did. He called it his 'party trick,' although I never understood what he meant," Elliott admitted. She twisted away from the spectacle, her features hidden within the impenetrable blackness as the nimbus of fiery tongues silhouetted her. She slowly bowed her head as if in prayer. "He was so good... a good man," she said, in not much more than a whisper.
    As Will, Chester and Cal marveled at the inferno on the island, none of them uttered a word, sharing her sense of loss for Drake. It was as though the burning island was a funeral pyre, a fitting send-off for him -- not only was there a glorious light extravaganza in this unlikeliest of places to honor his death, but also some of his enemies had been brought to justice.
    After the sober moment of reflection, Elliott spoke up.
    "So, how do you like your Limiters done?"
    She began to laugh jubilantly.
    "Rare," Chester replied, quick as a flash. The boys joined in with her laughter, hesitantly at first, but then roaring so loudly the boat rocked.

    * * * * *

    Sarah was shocked from her torpor by the first explosion, and by the second she was on her feet and racing down to the water's edge, with Bartleby following close behind her.
    She whistled at the sheer size of the blast and immediately brought up her rifle, wrapping the sling around her arm to hold the weapon steady. Through the scope she scrutinized the fiery point, so small over the waves. Then she slowly moved the rifle away from the island, combing back and forth over the watery horizon. The glow radiating from the fire enabled the light gathering scope to function highly effectively, but it was still some minutes before she spotted anything. She adjusted the magnification on the scope, trying to clarify the image.
    "A boat?" she asked herself. In the extreme distance there was no way she could tell who was in it, but she knew instinctively that it wasn't the Styx. No, in