Tunnels 02, Deeper

was eminently capable of leaving them stranded here. If she was unencumbered by the three of them, she'd be able to move at much greater speed to the Wetlands or wherever she intended to go.
    Will wondered how Chester would take it if she'd really left them high and dry. He trusted her without reservation, and it would come as a terrible blow. Even as Will looked at him now, he could see Chester was squinting into the gloom for any sign of her.
    All at once, over the howling of the wind, there came the unholiest of noises, a low-pitched whining. It was a sound Will hoped he'd never hear again. Seized with dread, he screamed out in alarm.
    "Dog! Stalker!"
    Cal and Chester both regarded him with dazed bewilderment as he dropped his canteen and leaped toward them, pushing them to move.
    "Run!" he yelled in a blind panic.
    Several things happened within a single heartbeat.
    There was a low whimper, and a dark blur flew from out of the blackness. It leaped low from the ground, soaring straight up at Cal. If the boy hadn't been so close to the passage wall, it would have bowled him over. Will caught a glimpse of the sinuous animal and was even more certain it was a Styx attack dog. He thought all was lost until he heard his brother's shouts.
    "Bartleby!" Cal cried with delight. "Bart! It's you!"
    Simultaneously two cracks flashed farther down the tunnel.
    "There she is!" Chester exclaimed. "Elliott!"
    Will and Chester watched as the girl departed the shadows and stepped into the middle of the tunnel.
    "Stay back!" she shouted at them as she crept down the main trail.
    Cal was in raptures, completely oblivious to anything but his beloved cat. "Who put this silly thing on you?" he asked the animal. He immediately unbuckled the leather collar and slung it away. Then he hugged the oversized feline, who repaid him by licking his face.
    "I don't believe I got you back, Bartleby," Cal said over and over again.
    "I don't believe it either. Where the heck did he come from?" Will said to Chester, forgetting their differences for the moment.
    Despite her instructions to the contrary, they both began to walk slowly toward Elliott. Will turned on his headset and saw that she had her rifle trained low on something. But he didn't begin to grasp what had happened until Chester spoke.
    "Elliott took a shot at somebody," he said flatly.
    "Oh no," Will exhaled. The two light bursts must have been the muzzle flash as Elliott had fired. He halted on the spot.
    Down the tunnel, Elliott had kicked the weapon away from the body and was squatting down to examine it. No need to check for a pulse -- she saw the pool of blood spreading through the dust -- if the Styx wasn't already dead, it was only a matter of time.
    Her first shot had been aimed at the lower body, to stop the attacker in his tracks, quickly followed up by a second shot to the head, which had clipped him on the temple. Incapacitate... then kill . Her aim had been a little off, not as clean as she would have liked, but the end result was still the same. She allowed herself a satisfied grin.
    The Styx had dried mud all over him -- so he must have followed them up the seam. With her fingertips, Elliott felt the waxed leather surface of the long coat striped with blocks of brown camouflage, a pattern painfully familiar to her. Well, that was one less Limiter -- he wouldn't be bothering them again.
    "For you, Drake," she whispered, but then a frown creased her brow.
    Something didn't make sense . The would-be assassin had been storming toward the boys with his weapon at his shoulder. Elliott was sure he had been about to take a shot "on the wing," but... he hadn't fired. And he hadn't demonstrated any of the precision or stealth she'd have expected from a soldier of the Limiter division. Their combat skills were legendary, yet this man had been in a mad rush. But it was academic now -- he was down -- and this was no place to hang around. More likely than not there'd be more Limiters on the way; and she wasn't about to be caught in the open like some sitting duck.
    She began to scavenge what she could. No rucksack -- that was disappointing. The Limiter must have dumped it back on the trail so she could advance more quickly. At least he still had his belt kit, which she stripped off, lobbing it over by the rifle.
    She was searching through the jacket pockets when she came across a folded piece of paper. Thinking it was a map, she shook it open, staining it with crimson smudges from the