Tunnels 04, Closer

keep her strength up.
    As she descended the vines from the hideaway to the stream below, Bartleby was where she'd left him, looking decidedly unhappy. She led him to the undergrowth further along the bank.
    "Sorry," she told him, "You're staying right here." She repeated, "Stay here," several times, indicating the ground with her finger. The Hunter reluctantly sank back onto his haunches, his tail flicking impatiently from side to side behind him. He knew that they were in trouble, but he didn't understand why he was being excluded from the running. His eyes were on Elliott as she rubbed his head affectionately. "Can't have you picking a fight with a stalker. And I still don't know if I can trust you with Styx around. You've been Darklit -- remember what happened last time?"
    As Elliott waded back into the stream, she heard a mournful meow from the Hunter. She held quite still. She felt completely alone. Only yesterday her life had seemed perfect, and now she was going to have to face almost insurmountable odds to save her friend. It all felt so hopeless -- a lost cause.
    She looked around at the towering trees on either side of the stream. Nothing had changed -- the jungle was just the same as it had been a day ago, the profuse vegetation thrumming with life -- but to her, it was different now. It was a theater of war, a place of life and death.
    She allowed herself to imagine what her friend might be going through at that precise moment... capture... torture... death.
    "Will," she croaked, trying not to cry as she thought of him in the clutches of the Limiters. "No," she said, "I can't fall apart now... there has to be a way through this." She drew herself up, squaring her shoulders. "I have to think like you, Drake."

17

    They want us to go with them," Dr. Burrows said, as he observed how the bushmen were behaving. "They know what the situation is outside, and they're taking us somewhere safe!"
    Will could hear the optimism in his father's voice as the circle of strange beings rustled with activity. He glanced over his shoulder as they advanced stiffly toward him and Dr. Burrows like an animated hedgerow, their feet scuffing over the stone floor. At the same time, the bushmen in front of them were also on the move. And in the middle of the circle, the two Burrows were clearly meant to follow them.
    "Yes," Will whispered. "But where are they taking us?"
    The phalanx was all around them as they reached the far corner of the chamber, and a passageway was revealed by the light from the burning torches. This led to some steps, which they began to ascend.
    After a while Dr. Burrows spoke up. "These stairs go on for ever. Feels to me as if we'll end up somewhere below the pyramid," he suggested, his voice full of wonder. Will had no sense if this was the case or not, and within a few minutes he and his father found they had come to the last of the steps and were back on a level surface again.
    From the light of the flickering torches, Will could make out that they were at some kind of intersection. But they didn't stop there for long as the bushmen conducted them into yet another passageway, its walls adorned with more brightly colored reliefs. Will and his father glimpsed one of a coastal city, its centerpiece a majestic palace. This palace was vaguely reminiscent of the Taj Mahal, with a large domed roof and slender minarets at the four corners. And in the bay itself, there was a colossal statue of a robed man facing out to sea, with what appeared to be a telescope in his hands.
    "Look at the scale of that place -- it's remarkable enough to be the eighth wonder of the world. I'll tell you one thing for certain, Will," Dr. Burrows announced, turning to his son.
    "What?"
    "Once this is all over and we're out of danger," Dr. Burrows said, "oh, boy, we've got to come back here."
    "Sure, Dad," Will answered, but without a trace of enthusiasm. He wasn't thinking any more than a few seconds ahead, let alone that far into the future. He had a very bad feeling about the situation. His fears intensified as, without any warning, the torches around them were extinguished and they were swallowed up by darkness again. "Why have we stopped here?" Will asked his father in a whisper. "They're not moving."
    There was no longer any rustling around them. The bushmen were standing completely still.
    "We'll be fine. You see," Dr. Burrows told his son. "These are the descendants of a once-great civilization. They recognize us for what we