Tunnels 03, Freefall

light orbs and meant to last for years? Isn't that what Drake said?"
    "I think so," Will exhaled, shutting his eyes for a second. "Typical -- just when we need them." He snapped his eyes open. "Let's just hope we don't run into any trouble along the way." As they returned inside he glanced at the pill bottles on the table. "Any luck with those?"
    Chester went over and took one of them in his hand. "Yes, this had aspirin in it," he said without any hesitation.
    "Wow! That's just incredible!" Will exclaimed. "You can actually read Russian! I'm impressed!" Then he noticed that Chester was smiling at him.
    "Will," he said, directing his friend to the very bottom of the label, "If you look down here -- in amongst the Russian words -- it says Aspirin. In English."
    "Right... missed that," Will mumbled, feeling more than a little foolish.
    From the lettering on the pills, it didn't take long for them to identify which of them were the aspirin. Then Will and Chester debated whether it would be too risky to give them to Elliott, particularly as the pills had spent a good week in the soil and some of them had begun to go a little fluffy as they were affected by the moisture.
    In the end, they decided that the aspirin might do more good than harm, and help take the edge off her fever. And if it prevented another of the fits, then they felt they had no option but to give it a shot. So they dissolved a few of the pills in a canteen of water and made her drink it.

    * * * * *

    The Levant wind had all but died down by the time they went through the barricade, with just the odd gust blowing on their backs. For several hours, the tunnels were wide and relatively level. Will prayed that the whole journey would be this easy.
    As she knew the way, Martha took the pole position. Next came Chester and Will, carrying Elliott between them on a makeshift stretcher. Elliott was swaddled in a blanket and tightly bound to the stretched so that she could be hauled up vertically if the situation demanded, but for now the boys were trying to keep her horizontal to lessen the trauma of being moved.
    Will glanced back at Rebecca who was bringing up the rear, with Bartleby loping along beside her in his long loose gait. At her own insistence, Rebecca was carrying a huge proportion of their provisions and water in two rucksacks, one on each shoulder. Given her slender frame this would have been a tall order on the surface, but the lack of gravity meant she could manage it without too much difficulty. Nevertheless, Will still couldn't help noticing how her limp seemed to be more pronounced.
    "I'm to sure how she's coping," he said quietly to Chester.
    "As well as can be expected, I suppose," Chester responded as he looked down at Elliott.
    "I meant Rebecca," Will corrected him.
    "Oh, her ," Chester replied peevishly, his whole manner transforming in the blink of an eye. It was obvious he couldn't care less. "Will, don't be taken in by her. I tell you, it's all one big act."
    Will thought for a second. "If it is some sort of trick, what could she possibly want from us?"
    "I've no idea," Chester said. He was on edge -- he didn't like it that Will was giving the girl free rein. Will knew that if Chester had had his way, she would have been chained up again -- properly this time -- and left behind to rot in the log store.
    "I don't think she's up to anything," Will said after a few paces. Although he wouldn't have dreamt of breathing a word to Chester, he was incredibly confused about his feelings. Since she'd turned up at the shack, Rebecca hadn't shown any of the brutal characteristics of her people. In fact, she seemed to be distinctly vulnerable, and a world apart from the Styx and their insect-like cruelty.
    He so wanted to believe that everything she had told him was true -- that she'd been made to follow orders on pain of death. Maybe he wanted to believe her a little too much. Rebecca had been a godsend to Will before they'd left the shack, helping him to plan what they needed to take with them and organizing the rucksacks to the n th degree in that efficient way only she could. It was as if he'd done a back flip over all the atrocious things he'd experienced at the hands of the Styx in the Colony and the Deeps, and somehow his sister had been restored to him, the sister he knew from the good times in Highfield. Admittedly these were few and far between -- and perhaps they were all the more intense in his memory exactly because of that. And