Tunnels 04, Closer

dirty fingers, there wasn't anything there. And his headset allowed him to see that there was a bigger space on the other side.
    "YES! Result!" he exclaimed, punching the air.
    He crawled through the opening, careful not to disturb the rocks around him, then clambered out onto a level passage. It was coated in fungus. As he knelt down to touch it, it took him back to the weeks they'd spent with Martha -- there was little doubt in his mind it was the same type of fungus that grew on her level, but could he be that close to the surface again?
    He took the tracker from his pocket and found that the signal was strong. Very strong.
    He knew he should really go back and tell Elliott what he was intending to do, but he didn't, instead following the source of the signal. It wasn't sensible -- he didn't have his Sten or Bergen with him -- but at that moment he was determined to keep going and find out where they were.
    A gust blew, chilling the sweat on his brow.
    Then, before him was a place that he recognized.
    And a tall boulder he knew only too well. He went up to it, locating the face with the three-pronged symbol carved into it.
    Moving beyond the boulder, he stepped to the edge of the ledge, where he peered into the gargantuan pore he'd named Smoking Jean. Water fell in showers and the wind was strong.
    He was standing on the precise spot from which his father had made his leap. And both Will and Elliott had done the same, as they'd followed him.
    "Dad," Will said, remembering.
    Dr. Burrows had been right to jump -- as he'd told Will at the time, one had to have faith in one's convictions. And as a result, he'd made the discovery to beat all discoveries, another world at the center of the Earth.
    But what had been his reward?
    To be murdered in cold blood by a pair of insane girls, who had once masqueraded as his daughter.
    Will's anger boiled up, finding no outlet but tears.
    Blinking them away, he peered upwards toward the top of the pore.
    As he caught a flash of something white moving in the far distance, his anger evaporated and he immediately pulled back from the opening. He'd totally forgotten about the Brights. This was their lair.
    "Oh, Jesus!" he said, realizing he didn't have a weapon with him, or any of the cans of the aerosol that Drake had provided.
    He began to retrace his footsteps, at first managing to remain calm as he went, then breaking into a trot. He didn't want to have come all this way just to be picked off by a Bright.
    As he wormed his way through the opening and re-entered the passage where he'd left Elliott, she was still fast asleep, with Bartleby curled up by her feet.
    Will was completely and utterly exhausted. He slumped to the ground beside Elliott and gave her a nudge.
    "Wha...?" she said eventually.
    "Found Smoking Jean," he yawned, barely able to string a sentence together. "And the boulder... the place we jumped..."
    "What?" she replied groggily, then jerked her head up. 'How?"
    "Tam was here... I... cleared a way through..." Will said.
    "Tam?" Elliott asked, her eyes now wide open. "But if you've got through to Smoking Jean,... then you've done it! You bloody hero! You've done it! Let's get moving!"
    "Yes... but... Brights," he mumbled. "Spray... us.. with... the... ca--"
    He never finished as he rested his head on the hard rock, and was instantly asleep.

    * * * * *

    As he waited for Eddie to get ready, Drake happened to glance at the battle scene on the table. He walked over to it, trying to work out what was different. "The layout's changed. This must be later on, when Napoleon's forces were being routed?"
    "Yes, it's the final day of the engagement," Eddie replied.
    Drake frowned. "But Wellington's skipped off again. Where's he gone?"
    "He's back on my desk. I'm still not satisfied with him," Eddie said, hiking his Bergen onto one shoulder.
    "He looked pretty damn good to me," Drake shrugged. "Right, time to hit the road." He went to the doorway that led through to the bedrooms and called softly. "Chester, we're off. We'll be back later in the morning." He waited for a response, but none came. "Typical teenager -- he'll be sleeping the sleep of the dead. I won't disturb him," Drake said to Eddie, as he turned away from the doorway, and then they made their way out of the flat.
    The last thing they needed was to be flagged down by an over-zealous policeman, so they took the journey at a much more sedate pace than the last time. In any case, their heavily laden Bergens didn't