Tunnels 04, Closer

voice!"
    He launched himself at the boy who managed to squeeze off a shot but, in the heat of the moment, missed completely. The dart shattered the glass in a steel cabinet behind the Second Officer, who was moving with all the belligerence of a stampeding bull.
    Chester didn't get the opportunity for a second shot as he was bowled over, and the gun sent flying from his hand. The Second Officer fell on top of Chester with such force that the boy thought his ribcage was going to be crushed.
    As the two of them writhed around on the floor, the Second Officer was trying to get a grip on Chester's throat, and in the process dislodged his gas mask. For the first time Chester found out what it was like to inhale nerve gas.
    "I'm going to kill you, you bast- choo !" Chester spluttered as he sneezed. He meant it too. With the Second Officer's bulk on him, Chester couldn't get his rifles or his sidearm, but his knife was a different matter. He managed to slip it from the sheath on his belt. He had no compunction about hurting this man who had -- he believed -- been complicit in his horrible ordeal for all those months in the Hold.
    Chester was maneuvering the knife into position to jab the Second Officer in the ribs, and they were shouting and swearing and struggling with each other, when a woman's voice cut through the air.
    "Stop it! Both of you!" Mrs. Burrows commanded, as she sat up on the table.

    * * * * *

    Drake had heard the commotion and was sprinting as fast as his legs would transport him. Passing the stairs in the central well, he had just entered Chester's side of the building when he saw someone rotate a bar into place on a large stainless steel door to lock it shut.
    Then the last person he expected to see stepped into the middle of the corridor.
    "Eddie?" Drake said, squealing to a startled halt on the highly polished floor.
    Quite calmly, the Styx stood before Drake. Still dressed in his Noddy suit, Eddie had a Styx rifle slung over his shoulder, but otherwise he was unarmed -- his hands were empty. And Drake noticed he wasn't wearing a mask, yet seemed to be completely unaffected by the nerve gas.
    Maybe it was because Drake couldn't believe his eyes, but he tore off his respirator as he brought his pistol to bear on the man. And it wasn't his dart gun, but a Beretta, which was loaded with live ammunition.
    "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Drake," Eddie said, as he saw Drake had removed his respirator.
    "The gas?" Drake asked. "Why aren't you--"
    "You're not the only one with access to atropine," Eddie interrupted him.
    "But... but what are you doing here?" Drake demanded.
    "Thought I'd come and see how you were getting on," Eddie said nonchalantly. "I know you feel you're justified in ending our alliance because of what happened to Fiona, but you've crossed me. And I'm not the type to turn the other cheek."
    Drake's eyes had begun to smart from the nerve gas. "You sound very confident," he said. "For someone who has a weapon drawn on him." Without lowering his pistol, Drake fumbled a syringe of atropine from his pocket. He flicked the cap off with his thumb before ramming it against his thigh. "And you obviously took something to counter my tranquilizer, in anticipation that I might use a dart on you."
    Eddie nodded.
    Drake blinked his tears away, already feeling the atropine counteract the early symptoms of the nerve gas. "But you're not going to get up afterwards if I shoot you with live rounds," he said.
    Eddie shook his head. "you won't do that."
    Drake tightened his finger on the trigger. "Really? You're in my way, and we've only got a short time until the ground floor of this building blows out from under us. I'm not intending to hang around until it does."

    * * * * *

    Chester and the Second Officer instantly stopped struggling with each other.
    "Mrs. B...?" Chester asked, staring wide-eyed at the bald woman who pulled the tubes from her arms, then swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the examination table. "Is that really you, Mrs. Burrows?"
    "Celia?" the Second Officer gasped, his hands still around Chester's neck. "You can speak... and move... you're well again! How did this happen? It's a miracle -- it's the Book of Catastrophes doing its good work, it is!"
    Mrs. Burrows looked completely composed and otherworldly as she held the gray sheet around herself.
    "It may be a miracle, but it's not because of your Book of Catastrophes," she said. "In truth, I recovered some time