Tunnels 04, Closer

bleakness and despair, when even the smallest task seemed like a Herculean undertaking, and when you had no sense of there being any light at the end of the tunnel. Will suspected this was where Elliott was right now.
    "No. I think that's the last of the big jumps. And thank God for the low gravity," he said, attempting to sound as positive as he could. "I don't know how we'd have got across otherwise."
    Elliott gave a yawn. "I am so tired," she slurred. "And so hungry I could eat a cave cow... two cave cows."
    "Yeah, me too, but I wouldn't go that far. You wait until you get to the fallout shelter -- there aren't just nice, clean beds there, but loads of food too," Will told her, his stomach rumbling a the prospect of bully beef spread on dry biscuits, which, at this very moment, seemed to him like a feast sent from heaven.
    In less than a kilometer they'd reached the end of the seam and begun along the constricted passage that led from it. As they squeezed between the rough stone walls, Will turned the tracker off and stowed it in his pocket; it was impossible for them to lose their way now. But it was odd not to have the sudden bursts of clicking to punctuate the slow and weary rhythms of their boots clumping and scuffing on the ground.
    An hour went by before Will and Elliott spoke again. "Not far now," he announced.
    "Oh, right," she sighed.
    Recognizing that Elliott still sounded rather down in the mouth, Will made another effort to lift her spirits. "Yep. Really not far to go. Have you spotted the signs above us?" he said. Coming to a halt, he held his luminescent orb high so its light fell on the upper reaches of the wall. "See... almost home and dry."
    Elliott leant back against the passage wall, and angled her lantern upwards. "A red triangle," she observed, as the circle of light revealed the peeling red paint of one of the symbols.
    "They run at about five-hundred-yard intervals," Will said, as he set off again. But the moment he'd uttered these words, they resonated in his head, as though a tuning fork had been struck.
    With Elliott following behind him, Will continued to walk mechanically along. Without being aware of it, he was just whistling through his teeth, just as his father had done when they'd been in this very same passage only months before. Dr. Burrows had been the first to notice the direction markers, pointing them out to Will.
    Will ceased his whistling. "They run at about five-hundred-yard intervals," he repeated barely audibly, but in his own head he was hearing his father's voice, as distinctly as if Dr. Burrows was standing right beside him.
    Will began to slow his pace as he recalled how his father had been forced to persuade him along this leg of the route. At the time, Will had been filled with self-recrimination that he hadn't made more of an effort to find Chester and Elliott, so they could regroup after the explosion by the submarine. And he'd become argumentative and lashed out at Dr. Burrows, venting all his frustration and resentment on him, when in fact he'd been furious with himself. Furious and extremely confused about what he should be doing.
    Will now came to an abrupt halt, making Elliott pull up sharply behind him.
    "What is it?" she asked.
    "I..."
    Before Will knew it, he'd dissolved into floods of tears. He couldn't stop himself from crying, crying so hard that he could barely draw breath. "Dad, oh, Dad," he moaned and twisted quickly away from Elliott to hide himself against the wall. He was thoroughly embarrassed and ashamed that she should see him lose control of his emotions like this.
    Padding back to find out why his traveling companions weren't keeping up, Bartleby regarded Will through his large coppery eyes, not understanding what was wrong. The cat tried to push his muzzle between Will and the wall to get his attention. When Will wouldn't move and let him in, Bartleby sat on his haunches beside him, his head cocked to one side as he began to make low mewing noises in sympathy with the sobbing boy.
    "Being such an idiot," Will murmured, as Elliott stepped over to him.
    "No, you're not," she said softly. She put an arm around him, then laid her head on his shoulder.
    "Don't know what... why now..." he got out between quick, shallow breaths, still unable to regain any measure of control over himself.
    They remained like that for some time, Elliott holding him.
    "What a muppet," he managed to say, his chest heaving.
    "It's all right. You're just sad," she said,