Tunnels 03, Freefall

perhaps oil. The images were a little fuzzy and reminded him of some old instant photographs -- Polaroids , he thought they were called -- that his father had shown him of when, long before Will was born, Dr. Burrows had trekked along a section of Hadrian's Wall.
    But these were of groups of clean-cut men in dark sweaters, some wearing military-style caps. The photographs had what looked like Russian words written on them, scratched into the glossy surfaces of the prints with a blue ballpoint pen.
    "The crew?" Will said, glancing at Rebecca.
    She nodded.
    In the first photographs the men were on the upper deck of the submarine, the open sea behind them. They were all smiling, and their eyes were as bright as the sky above. Then, as Will continued through the pack, he came to some in which the contrast was much higher -- they had clearly been taken with a flash, either in the submarine itself or underground. But still the men looked to be in good shape.
    However, the last photographs told a very different story. In these there were far fewer men, and they looked a world apart from the young sailors in the earlier snaps: their bearded faces now gaunt and grim, and their eyes haunted.
    "Poor sods. You can tell they had a rough time of it," Will commented.
    Rebecca didn't reply immediately. Pushing herself away from the wall as if she was about to leave, she lowered her voice. "Will... there's something..." she began, then seemed to hesitate.
    "What?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from the photographs.
    "Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what became of all those guys... what really happened to the crew of this sub?"
    Will shrugged. "Either they went off somewhere, or the Brights got them?"
    Rebecca stared at him, unblinking. "Martha's son salvaged a ton of stuff from here before he came down with the fever."
    "So?"
    "Do did her really lug all that metal back to the shack by himself? Or did some of the men go with him? Did they help him get it there? And, if that's the case, what happened to them?"
    Will looked askance at her. "Are you saying that he... or Martha... did something to the survivors?"
    She shrugged.
    "Are you saying they killed them?" Will asked. He happened to look at the next photograph and it took his attention away from what Rebecca had been saying. The men seemed to be standing next to a tall boulder with a symbol on it. Will stuck his head closer to the print, trying to make out what the symbol was. He saw three single lines which splayed out, like the top of a trident. He immediately touched his chest, feeling the pendant under his shirt that Uncle Tam had given him, and which had exactly the same symbol on it.
    "What's going on in this one?" he asked, holding the print up. "I know this sign."
    Rebecca was dismissive in her answer, perhaps a little irritated that Will had been distracted from what she'd been saying. "Oh, sure, you find it carved on stones in the Deeps."
    "But none of the people from this submarine are likely to have been to the Deeps," Will reasoned, "so they must have come across it down here somewhere."
    "As I was saying, Will, just keep your eyes open," Rebecca said.
    "Martha isn't like th--" Will began, about to defend the woman.
    Rebecca gave a harsh guffaw. "Martha and her brat were renegades. They're capable of just about anything. And you didn't investigate the graves behind the shack, did you... you didn't see how recent some of them were?"
    "No... did you?"
    Ignoring his question, Rebecca continued. "You know she can tell a porky when it suits her. You caught her out big time when she fibbed about the medicines. She won't forget you did that in a hurry. The only one of us she gives a jot about is Chester."
    "Yeah, but--" he started to say.
    "Keep the photos -- they're yours," Rebecca said. She turned on her heels and strolled away from him, swinging her hips as she went. There was no sign of her limp any longer. She lingered for a moment on the threshold to the next compartment.
    "Watch your back, Will," Rebecca said ominously, then sniggered unpleasantly. "Because if we run low on meat, she might just eat it. And that's all I'm saying." Then she was gone, leaving Will with the photographs in his hand, and serious doubts in his mind.

    * * * * *

    Will found it hard to sleep after the conversation with Rebecca. Every time he shut his eyes, he saw the haggard, desperate faces of the submarine crew. But worse even than that, his imagination was working overtime as he