Tunnels 04, Closer

believe that little runt did this to me. He actually shot me! Will shot me!" she fumed. "How dare he!"
    "Take it easy," Rebecca Two said, as she took off her own shirt. She gnawed on the hem unit she was able to tear a strip from it, then tore several more.
    Rebecca One was still ranting. "His biggest mistake was he didn't finish me off. He should've finished the job when he had the chance, because I'm going back for him. And I'm going to make bloody sure he feels pain like this, but a million times worse."
    "You better believe it," Rebecca Two agreed, as she knotted two of the strips together, then folded the remaining ones so they formed pads.
    "I want to cut and bleed the little pig, but slowly... so slowly... over days... no ... weeks," Rebecca One seethed in a semi-delirium. " And he took the Dominion virus from us. He's got to pay f--"
    "We'll get Dominion back. Now can you just shut up, please. You need to save your strength," Rebecca Two said. "I'm going to put patches on your wounds, then bind them really tight."
    Rebecca One tensed as her sister placed the pads of material over both bullet holes. Then, as Rebecca Two passed the strip around her waist and pulled hard, the Styx girl's terrible screams of agony echoed down the darkened tunnel.

    * * * * *

    "Do hurry it up, love," Martha pressed Chester as he tried to decide what he wanted to take with him. He didn't reply, but inwardly he was about ready to explode.
    Oh, leave me alone, will you?
    She really was like some annoying busybody of an aunt, always fussing over him and giving him cow-eyed looks of devotion. And she'd been sweating profusely since they hauled the launch out of the water, and Chester was sure he could smell a sour odor emanating from her.
    "No point dilly-dallying round here, dearie," she said in a sickly voice.
    "That was it. He couldn't take any more of her hovering behind him. She was always just that little bit too close, and it made him very uncomfortable. He snatched up a few items at random and stuffed them on top of the sleeping bag in his rucksack, which he then did up.
    "Ready," he announced, intentionally swinging the rucksack onto his should so that it force Martha to take a step back to avoid being bashed by it. The he marched rapidly down the quay and away from her.
    But within seconds she was behind him again, like some stray dog.
    "Where is it then," Martha demanded sharply, as Chester tried to recall will's directions. He could hear her breathing was becoming louder, as if she was annoyed with him, or the situation she now found herself in.
    While her behavior was a general source of irritation for Chester, every so often another side to her would reveal itself. With very little warning, she would lose her temper and become thoroughly nasty. Chester found that he was really quite frightened on these occasions.
    "I don't know," he answered as civilly as he could manage, "but if Will said it's here, then it's here somewhere."
    They were checking between the single-story buildings, crude concrete structures. All of which lacked any glass in their windows. There was nothing to explain what the buildings had been used for -- they were unmarked except for numbers stenciled on them in white paint. There was something about the buildings that made Chester shiver. He wondered if at some time in the past soldiers had been billeted in them, living down here in the dark and the isolation. But now the buildings were empty except for rubble and pieces of twisted metal.
    As Martha began to breathe even more heavily, the prelude for another grumble, Chester's light fell on the opening he'd been searching for.
    "Aha! This is it!" he announced quickly, hoping it would silence the woman. "They had both regarded the passage that Will had opened up by removing a number of breeze blocks.
    "Yes," Martha said, without emotion.
    Chester got the sense she was disappointed. Raising her crossbow as if she expected trouble, she climbed through first. Chester didn't follow right away, shaking his head before going after her. On the other side, he found her feet were swilling through foul-smelling water, the stench becoming even more pronounced as their movement stirred it up.
    "Meh!" he scowled, consoling himself that at least he wasn't able to smell Martha any longer. He caught sight of some half-submerged wooden planking, then several rusty oil drums. One of these drums was empty and floating on its side. As the water around it was disturbed, it