Tunnels 04, Closer

behind the sideboard in the room where she slept. Colly was prancing around, overexcited at the mad rush they'd made together. "Quiet down now," Mrs. Burrows ordered the cat. "Go to your basket." The Hunter obediently slipped out of the room, and Mrs. Burrows had taken her place in her bath chair when she heard the front door open. She remembered the towel that had been spread on her chest. Oh no! she thought. You idiot! Reaching over to retrieve it from the floor, she laid the towel on her chest and slumped back into the chair just in time for Eliza and her mother as they entered the room.
    Dressed in their hats and coats, they regarded Mrs. Burrows for several seconds, the disapproval radiating from both of them.
    "Still 'ere, then, you bloomin' deadweight?" the old woman said eventually, her voice dripping with resentment.
    "Of course she is. She's never going anywhere," Eliza said, then hesitated. "But she doesn't look too clever, does she? Bit flushed, I'd say. Maybe she's coming down with a fever?" she added hopefully, going over to Mrs. Burrows and feeling her forehead.
    Mrs. Burrows immediately reduced her breathing and lowered her body temperature -- she couldn't let them see that she was out of breath or hot from her recent exertions.
    "No, she hasn't got a temperature," Eliza decided, her disappointment evident.
    The old woman lowered her voice. "Perhaps we need to give 'er a little nudge to 'elp 'er on her way," she suggested. "She's never going to be right again, so it'd be like snuffin' out a smoulderin' wick on a tallow."
    "We can't go on like this," Eliza agreed.
    "No, we can't, and desperite times call for desperite measures," the old woman whispered, whipping off her hat. "We could stop feedin' 'er or somethin'? Or lace 'er food with slug poison?"
    There was no response from Eliza as she continued to stand in front of Mrs. Burrows, but her lack of response spoke volumes.
    We'll see about that , Mrs. Burrows thought to herself as she crept back into the dark recess of her brain, still cherishing the image of Will that the spade had conjured up. Just you try anything, you old witches!

12

    Eddie was at the wheel as the powered through the Norfolk countryside. With the detector in his hand Drake was tracking the signal from the radio beacon, at the same time consulting the car's Sat Nav unit to find the most direct route.
    "Hang a left," he instructed Eddie, then as he scrolled through the roads on the Sat Nav, he added, "No, scrub that -- keep going and take the second left." He glanced up at the road ahead and caught sight of a sign. " Walsingham ," he read. At this rate, we're going to end up on the coast."
    Within ten minutes, the signal was so strong that the clicking from the detector was almost continuous. Drake muted the sound. "Right, this is close enough. Let's dump the car and recce the area on foot."
    Eddie found a place to park and they climbed out. After taking what they needed from the boot, Drake spent a moment to get a fix on the direction of the signal before putting his headset on and firing it up. Then they crossed the road to a field of rapeseed, keeping to a footpath at the edge as they marched at a brisk pace.
    Through the lens of the headset the rapeseed appeared to Drake as a sea of white gold, churning with slow breakers as the wind stroked it. Edie came alongside him, moving soundlessly in long, easy strides. In his Limiter fatigues and with his Styx rifle in his hands, there was something timeless about the dark form of the soldier set against the backdrop of the golden sea. Like a heroic warrior from an epic tale. Always to be best, and to be distinguished above the rest , Drake thought to himself, recalling the line from Homer.
    It occurred to Drake just how grateful he was for the Styx's company. He'd spent so much of his life isolated and alone in the seemingly impossible battle against his foe, and now at last he had an ally, and dare he even think it, a friend . This kinship with someone who'd been in the opposing camp was still strange to him, but Drake conceded that Eddie had been right about what he'd said in the car. The two of them were alike in so many ways.
    Within another kilometer a small hillock came into view as they neared a hedge at the far end of a grassy meadow. Eddie held up his fist to tell Drake to stop. The both squatted down.
    As he surveyed the hedge through his lens, trying to discern the reason for Eddie's concern, Drake saw that the Styx was