Tunnels 03, Freefall

scissors, stone," he said. Then the smile left his face and he moved his chair round to Will's side of the bed. "Okay, so tell me exactly what the Rebecca twin said. I'm hooked."
    "Well... for starters, she swears her sister is responsible for everything and that she was made to go along with it." Will held up his fist with the phials in it. "She also says this is all the Dominion the Styx have got. So they can't go ahead with their plot."
    Chester's eyebrows hiked up at this. "How likely is that?"
    "She said that even if we don't believe her, and the Styx have got more, we should get this to the right people on the surface. They'll be able to produce the vaccine."
    "Apart from the fact that we can't get to the surface, this all sounds like a load of bullshit. I don't believe a word of what she's telling you," Chester said adamantly.
    "Hold on," Will urged him. "Think it through logically. Maybe this Dominion is real, but she knows there's no way we can get Topsoil, so it actually doesn't matter if we have it or not. Or she really believes we can find a way back, and she's trying to buy her way in, because she want to go home. Or perhaps she's genuine and she was made to do everything by her sister, and this is her way of proving it to us."
    Chester shook his head. "Er... run that by me again."
    "Look, it's simple. If there's even the tiniest chance we can save tens of millions of lives on the surface, and Elliott's into the bargain, then don't we have to try everything we can to get out of the Pore?"
    "If you put it like that, yes, of course we have to," Chester agreed. "And what about the twin? Do we leave her here with Martha?"
    "No, we take her with us when we go. She's promised she'll spill the beans on the Styx and their plans," Will said.
    Chester rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, we should just pack up our bags and go."
    From the doorway a voice made them both jump out of their skins. "I warned you about letting that Styx girl in," Martha said. "This is what happens. This is how it always starts." Then she turned on her heels and left.

14

    Martha never said a word to either of the boys about what she'd overheard, and as much as they could in the cramped confines of the shack, they both tried to stay out of her way for a few days. Will continued with his routine of nursing Elliott, playing chess against himself and sorting through the salvaged items in the outhouse, but now there was the added responsibility of Rebecca.
    But his and Chester's main preoccupation remained with Elliott and her continued decline. It was agonizing to watch her lying there on the bed, the sweat pouring from her, and to listen to her outbreaks of feverish babbling. She was forever saying Drake's name, and reciting the sequence of numbers that meant nothing to the boys.
    Will became increasingly depressed, to the point that he could think of nothing else but Elliott's plight. Even when it wasn't his turn to watch her, he would frequently keep Chester company, the two of them sitting in silence together. On one such occasion Chester spoke to him.
    "Will, you can't stop yawning and you look completely done in. Why don't you go and get your head down?"
    "All right," Will mumbled, heaving himself to his feet with another yawn, then shuffling off next door.

    * * * * *

    "Whassat?"
    Will didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but he awoke with a start as if someone was calling urgently to him. He sat bolt upright and looked nervously about the gloomy room. Nothing appeared to be amiss so he listened out to see if he could hear anything further, but there was only Chester's deep breathing as he slept soundly on the pile of carpets on the floor.
    Will threw off the light blanket and went to check on Elliott in the next room. Deep in fever, she was rolling her head from side to side on the sweat-stained pillow, and her arms made occasional small flailing movements, as if she was struggling against someone or something. As he leant over and felt her forehead, she was muttering but it was nothing that made any sense to him.
    "Too hot," he said in a whisper. "Come on, Elliott, you've got to beat this."
    For a few minutes he watched her, wishing there was some way he could ease her suffering. Then he made his way back through the main room and out of the shack. He stopped on the porch, sitting himself down on the top step. He was grateful for the gentle breeze, which was blowing up the slope, and shut his eyes, enjoying it on his face.
    When