Tunnels 04, Closer

been killed," he said.
    Drake got his breath back, and still didn't seem to be taking it badly that he'd been punched. Far from it -- he appeared to Will to be happier than he'd ever seen him before.
    Drake shook his head. "Sorry -- what with one thing and another, I've been a bit busy," he said. "I'll make it up to you, Dad."

35

    "Sunday lunch!" Chester exclaimed, looking over the table at his father. "Never thought we'd be sitting down to Sunday lunch again."
    "I don't know what to expect anymore," Mr. Rawls replied rather disconsolately.
    There was a second's silence until Drake intervened. "Yes -- on that note, I want you all to raise you glasses with me." He stood up, taking his wine glass from the table, as everyone else followed his example. "We drink a toast to all those who aren't here with us today... the Doc, Mrs. Rawls, Sarah Jerome, Tam Macaulay, Cal, Leatherman... to absent -- and very brave -- friends."
    Everyone drank with him, then took their seats again.
    "And Chester, I have something for you," Drake said. He reached beside his chair to pick up a package, which he passed over the table to the boy.
    "What is it?" Chester asked, as he tore it open. "A skateboard! Drake -- you remembered I never got one for Christmas! That's awesome!"
    Drake smiled. "You can try it out on the tennis courts. The surface isn't great, as nobody's used them in years, but it should be good enough for skateboarding. Look in the bottom of the bag -- there are some pads. I don't want you injuring yourself." As Will and Elliott admired the gaudily colored skateboard, Drake glanced at his wristwatch. "Where he's got to with the food? Stubborn old mule refused to let me help."

    * * * * *

    In the kitchen, Parry propped his walking cane by the side of the range as he put on a pair of gloves and opened the oven door. "Two joints of roast beef were sizzling on a tray, which he took out and inspected. "Perfect," he said.
    All of a sudden, Bartleby and Colly appeared either side of him. They each lunged at the joints, seizing them in their jaws and then racing off through the open back door and over the fields with their prizes.
    "Bloody scavengers!" Parry shouted, brandishing his walking cane at the retreating hindquarters of the two Hunters. "Next time I'll use my shotgun on you!"

    * * * * *

    The assembled group at the dining room table hadn't heard anything, as the kitchen was several corridors away.
    "I'm going to see what he's doing," Drake decided. "He's probably burnt the food or something."
    "I wouldn't bother," Mrs. Burrows had just said, as Parry swung into sight in the doorway, his expression furious. "Our main course is currently heading away across the field behind the house, and at some speed, too," she added, before Parry had had a chance to speak.
    "How do you do that?" Parry asked. "How could you possibly know?"
    Mrs. Burrows tapped the side of her nose with her index finger. "ESP," she said, as if imparting some great secret to him.
    "ESP?" Parry repeated, then sank into his chair at the head of the table and downed his glass of wine in one.
    "Extra Smelling Power," Mrs. Burrows laughed, as she rose to her feet. "Come along, Drake and Jeff -- you can give me a hand to fix something else for lunch."
    "Um... can I say something?" Chester began, and Mrs. Burrows took her seat again.
    Drake nodded at Chester to continue.
    "Well, it's what Mrs. Burrows just said about her super-power -- it gave me an idea. We're all here because of the Styx -- and we've achieved some incredible things, haven't we?" He looked at Drake. "We've wiped out the source of these viruses and destroyed their labs." Then he looked at Will and Elliott. "And we've also got hold of the vaccine for the Dominion virus. So we're good at what we do... we're a special team who, together, can take on the Styx, aren't we? Like those super-hero crime-fighting teams you see in comics and films. And if we're so good, shouldn't we have a name? A bit like the X-Men or the Fantastic Four?"
    "Nice speech, Chester," Drake congratulated him.
    "What were you thinking of?" Mrs. Burrows asked. "Something along the lines of the Rebel Alliance, but snappier?"
    "Teenage Mutant Ninja Topsoilers? Will put in.
    Mr. Rawls quickly counted how many of them there were around the table. "Or Drake's Seven?" he chuckled.
    At this Drake rolled his eyes. "Tell you what -- you lot come up with a name while I raid the kitchen," he said.

    * * * * *

    Mrs. Rawls sat down to watch