Tunnels 02, Deeper

greet her.
    She fished in her pocket for her flashlight but, having found it, didn't turn it on, choosing instead to feel her way through the enveloping darkness of the tunnel until she came to the main chamber.
    "Cat, are you there?" she said, finally flicking on the light.
    "Sarah Jerome, I presume," came a voice as the chamber burst into a dazzling brilliance, much more than was merited by Sarah's small beam. She shielded her eyes, half blinded and reeling at what she thought she'd glimpsed.
    She desperately tried to focus on the source of the voice.
    "Who...?" she said, beginning to draw back.
    What was this?
    A girl of perhaps twelve or thirteen reclined in one of the armchairs, her legs primly crossed and a coquettish smile on her pretty face.
    The girl was dressed as a Styx.
    A large white collar over a black dress.
    A Styx child?
    And standing beside the girl was a Colonist, a big, surly brute. He had a strangle leash around the cat's neck and was holding the straining animal back.
    Instinct replaced thought as Sarah wrenched open her bag, and in an instant her knife was out and flashing in the bright light. She dropped the bag, brandishing the knife, crouching and edging farther back. Looking frantically around her, she saw where all the light was coming from. Many light orbs -- how many, she didn't know -- were held aloft around the chamber walls, held by other Colonists. These squat, heavily muscled men lined the space like unmoving statues, like guardians.
    Hearing the scratchy and indecipherable language of the Styx, she shot a glance at the tunnel she'd come down. A rank of Styx, in their uniform of black coats and white shirts, had moved across it behind her, sealing off her only means of escape. Talk about a full house -- the White Necks were here in force, too.
    She was completely surrounded. She wasn't going to be able to fight her way out of this one. It was an impossible situation. She'd been in too much of a hurry -- her mind had been elsewhere as she'd carelessly entered the excavation without taking the usual precautions.
    You stupid, stupid fool.
    And now she was going to pay for her mistake. Dearly.
    Dropping her flashlight, she raised the knife and held the blade hard against her own neck. There was time. They couldn't stop her.
    Then the girl spoke again in her gentle voice.
    "You don't want to do that."
    Sarah croaked something unintelligible, her throat constricting with fear.
    "You know who I am. I'm Rebecca."
    Sarah shook her head, her eyes stricken. A remote corner of her brain wondered why the Styx girl was using a Topsoiler name. Nobody ever knew their real names.
    "You've seen me at Will's house."
    Sarah shook her head again, then froze. There was something familiar about the child. Sarah realized she must have been passing herself off as Will's sister. But how?
    "The knife," Rebecca urged, "put it down."
    "No," Sarah tried to say, but it came out as a groan.
    "We have so much in common. We have a common interest. You should hear what I have to say."
    "There's nothing to say!" Sarah cried, finding her voice again.
    "Tell her, Joe," the Styx girl said, half turning.
    Someone stepped from the wall. It was the man who had written the note, Joe Waites, one of her brother Tam's gang. Joe had been like family to her and her brother, a loyal friend who would have followed Tam to the ends of the earth.
    "Go on," Rebecca commanded him. "Tell her."
    "Sarah, it's me," Joe Waites said. "Joe Waites," he added hastily, as she didn't show any sign that she recognized him. He inched forward, his trembling palms turned to her and his voice cracking with hysteria as he delivered a tumble of words. "Oh, Sarah," he pleaded, "please... please put it down... put the knife down... do it for your son's sake... for Cal's sake... Your must've seen my message... It's true, it's the God's own..."
    Sarah pressed the blade deeper into the flesh over her jugular and he stopped dead on the spot, his hands still raised, his fingers spread out, his whole body shaking violently. "No, no, don't, don't, don't... Listen to her... you have to. Rebecca can help."
    "Nobody's going to make a move on you, Sarah. You have my word," the girl said calmly. "At least hear me out." She raised her shoulders in a small shrug, setting her head at an angle. "But you go ahead if you want to... cut your throat... I can't do anything to stop you." She let out a long sigh. "It would be such a waste, such a stupid, tragic waste. And don't