Tunnels 04, Closer

cried. He strained against the ties holding his arms behind the chair, and tried to kick his legs out, but it was useless.
    "Don't struggle, Jeff, or we'll work your wife over," Drake threatened.
    "My mum! Where's my mum!" Chester asked Drake.
    Drake went over to Chester and leant close to him, but made no attempt to lower his voice, as if he wanted Mr. Rawls to hear every word he said. "She's in a cubicle at the back and she's fine, as long as Jeff here cooperates. Now pull up that chair and plant yourself on it.
    Chester hesitated.
    "Do what I say," Drake growled.
    The boy dazedly took his place opposite his father, who continued to stare daggers at him. "What are you after, you little thug? Are you trying to get money out of me?" Mr. Rawls asked. His voice became high-pitched and slightly hysterical. "Look, don't you realize I'm an actuary... I work for a minor insurance company... I don't earn much. You're barking up the wrong tree!"
    Drake intervened at this point. "If you're an actuary, Jeff, I'd expect you to have a highly logical and analytical mind. I need you to use that mind right now, for your and Emily's sakes."
    Chester wanted to cover his ears at the ugly torrent of invective that came out of his father's mouth, Mr. Rawls tried to turn his head to get a proper look at Drake, who grabbed him and forced him to face front again. "Hold the first picture up, so Jeff can see it," Drake ordered Chester, moving beside Mr. Rawls now he was staring at the photograph from the London Eye. "Tell me, who's that with you and your wife?"
    Mr. Rawls spat contemptuously, then answered. "My son. That's my son, and--"
    "And who is this?" Drake switched on a torch and shone it at Chester's face. The beam was powerful, making the boy squint.
    "I HAVE NO IDEA!" Mr. Rawls screamed. "HOW SHOULD I BLOODY KNOW?"
    Chester still couldn't believe it. He was even wearing the school uniform he'd had on in the photograph, and yet his father was still unable to recognize him.
    "Look at him really carefully, Jeff, because you do know who he is, and if you don't tell me I'm going to kill Emily. She's in a room just behind us, and I'll walk right in there and slit her throat. In fact, I'm going to make you watch me do--"
    "No, Drake!" Chester exploded, aghast. "You wouldn't do that!"
    Switching off the torch, Drake went over to Chester. "Shut up," he growled at the boy. Chester did as he was told -- he wasn't about to argue with him.
    "Who are you people?" Mr. Rawls asked. "Are you canvassing for new BNP voters or something?" He laughed viciously
    "I don't think you understand how serious the situation is," Drake said to him, unsheathing his knife. It was a terrifying weapon, with a serrated edge. Drake angled the blade so the light caught it, reflecting it straight into Mr. Rawls' eyes. "If you don't cooperate, and fast, neither you nor your wife is going to leave this place with your internal organs."
    Mr. Rawls blinked as if he was having a bad dream and wanted to wake up. He began to shout for help at the top of his lungs.
    Drake marched straight over to him and slapped him hard across the face, then stuck the tip of the knife into his throat. Chester jumped up from his chair but said nothing.
    "You can shout until you're blue in the face, but nobody's going to hear you. Nobody's going to come to your rescue. So go on, let it all out, Jeff," Drake dared him. As Mr. Rawls fell silent, Drake re-sheathed his knife.
    Drake ordered Chester to return to his seat and to hold up the other photographs. He made Mr. Rawls describe the boy in each of these, then to describe Chester before him. He forced him to do this over and over again, making him look at the photographs and then Chester himself. If Mr. Rawls refused, Drake would threaten him with the knife or cuff him across the face, until it became red and bruised.
    As they went through this routine, Chester began to understand what Drake was up to. He was attempting to deprogram his father, to purge him of the cognitive patterns the Styx had implanted with the Dark Light. And because Chester understood that Drake needed to be so brutal, he began to feel a little better about the physical abuse the man was dishing out to his father.
    Then, as Drake slapped Mr. Rawls once again, all that changed.
    "Go to hell!" Mr. Rawls shouted, clearly reaching the end of his tether. "You can do what you want to me, but I'm not going to listen to this rubbish any longer." Then he looked down at his lap,