Tunnels 02, Deeper

whispered.
    "Because he would have done worse to you," she said curtly, before moving on to Cal.
    The boy appeared unhurt except for some very tender ribs. But he was slow to respond when Elliott spoke to him, still shocked that he'd shot the Limiter.
    She took him by both shoulders, her voice sympathetic.
    "Cal, listen. Drake gave me some advice once, after a horrible thing happened to me."
    The boy looked vaguely at her.
    "He said that our skin has a dead layer on it."
    She had his attention now -- he frowned quizzically at her.
    "It's the cleverest thing. It dies and the top layers flake off, to protect us from infection." Straightening up, she lifted her hands from his shoulders and brushed one over the back of the other to illustrate what she was saying. "The bacteria -- or germules, as you call them -- they settle, but can't get a hold."
    "So?" Cal said, intrigued.
    "So right now, part of you is dying, just like your skin. It might take a while -- it did with me -- but it will die to save you. And next time you'll be tougher and stronger."
    Cal nodded.
    "So let it go and just move on."
    Cal nodded again. "I think I see," he said, his face losing its rigidity and his eyes regaining a measure of their vitality. "Yes, I see."
    Will had been listening and was impressed with the way Elliott had been able to comfort the boy. Cal already seemed to be back to his old self, chatting enthusiastically to his beloved cat.
    Elliott checked Will next. Considering what he'd been through, he was relatively unscathed except for some angry red bruises and grazes on his neck, a number of abrasions on his face, and a mountain range of bumps on the back of his head. As he gingerly touched them, he thought of the tugs he'd felt when they'd been running and, probing his calf with his fingers, discovered a couple of small tears in the fabric of his pants legs.
    "What's this?" he said to Elliott. He knew they hadn't been there before.
    Elliott inspected them.
    "They're bullet holes. You should count yourself lucky."
    The shots had punched straight through the material, and he could stick a finger in the holes to show where they'd landed. Relieved that he hadn't been hit, that he'd indeed dodged another bullet, he broke into laughter. Cal gave him a curious look, while Chester just clicked his teeth dismissively. Elliott regarded him with quiet disapproval.
    "Keep it together, Will," she rebuked him.
    "Oh, I'm together all right," he came back at her, breaking into a fresh peal of laughter. "Against all odds."
    "OK, to the Pore!" she announced. "Then the Wetlands."
    "Where we'll be home and dry?" Will asked with a chuckle.

     

49

    "Is that you, Will?" Sarah moaned as she felt someone gripping her wrist. Then she remembered that he, Cal, and the others had long gone, just as she'd urged them to do.
    She opened her eyes to darkness and the most excruciating agony she'd ever experienced in her life.
    Every single pain and ache, every single toothache and headache and discomfort that comes during a lifetime, all accumulated together into a single moment of unendurable agony: This was how it felt. A thousand times worse even than childbirth.
    She cried out, battling to stay conscious. Her eyes remained open despite the fact that she couldn't see who was there. She didn't know how long she'd been out for -- it was as if she'd pushed her way between a pair of heavy curtains and something ineluctable was pulling her back through them so they could draw together again. It was the most tremendous struggle, because the pain was forcing her back behind the curtains, a place so tranquil and warm and welcoming. It was all she could do to resist the temptation to go there. But she wasn't going to allow herself that final bow, and with each labored breath she fought against it.
    The grip on her wrist tightened, and as she heard the rasping sound of the Styx language, her heart fell. A light appeared somewhere in the very periphery of her vision, and there were more Styx voices as she saw shadowy forms flitting around her.
    "Limiter," she said, recognizing the camouflage on the arm that was now checking over her body.
    In confirmation, a harsh voice snapped at her.
    "Stand up!"
    "I can't," she said, forcing herself to focus in the dim light.
    There were four Limiters there. She'd been found by a patrol. Two of them hauled her to her feet. She felt the crippling pain in her hip and screamed -- it reverberated through the tunnel, but it was as though