Tunnels 05 - Spiral

and stumbled from the room. He had to get out, had to escape.
    In the pitch black of the passage, he came to a stop. “Oh God . . . why did this have to happen?” he croaked, his throat constricting with regret and self-reproach. “Why did they have to die? Why them and not
me
?”
    He edged backward until he found the wall — the wall beyond which his poor friend was trying to deal with his loss.
    What twisted Will into knots was that, however much he wished for it, he couldn’t make things right again for Chester. He couldn’t bring his friend’s parents back. It felt precisely to Will as if he was in the throes of one of the fevered nightmares he’d suffered in early childhood, when he’d wake up with the unshakable feeling that he’d done something monumentally wrong. Although he’d never known what his crimes had been, the guilt was as powerful as any knife twisting in his guts.
    Will’s forehead still hurt badly, but he swiveled around and pressed it hard against the wall. Then he began to slam it repeatedly on the unyielding surface, grateful for the stinging relief of the pain.
    “No, no, no, no.”
    Will stopped when blood began to run into his eyes, making him blink. As he did so, he caught shouting from the Hub, then a crash. Drake was yelling something. The thought that someone might need help made Will pull himself together, and he began to feel his way along the passage and then into the Hub.
    Although a few clouds of smoke still hung in the air, emergency lights had been positioned around the area, so Will could immediately see the extent of the damage. A film of fine gray silt coated everything in sight, and many of the desks had been blasted over — those closest to the mouth of the entrance tunnel blackened by flames.
    Stepping over the debris strewn across the floor, Will made his way toward the tunnel. Some twenty feet along, it was completely cut off by massive slabs of rock that had fallen through the reinforced concrete roof. The jagged ends of air-conditioning ducts and wiring conduits hung loosely from the ceiling and walls like slashed arteries. And much of the surviving length of tunnel was mottled with carbon patches where fires had evidently been put out.
    “We’re lucky to have survived,” Parry said, as he appeared beside Will and surveyed the damage with him.
    “Chester’s parents . . . is there any way they could have escaped?” Will asked, staring at the rocks.
    Parry shook his head. “Danforth probably made it out because he was on the right side of the blast door, but not them, I’m afraid.”
    Will was silent for a moment. “Can we dig our way through this?” he said eventually.
    “I reckon it would take a team with specialist excavating equipment two or three weeks to clear it.” Barely pausing for breath, Parry asked, “What sort of shape is Chester in?”
    “I honestly don’t know,” Will replied, turning to Parry. “I think he’s still in shock.”
    Parry scrutinized Will’s face. “You’re covered in blood. The Colonel told me he’d cleaned you up,” he said with surprise.
    “It’s nothing,” Will mumbled. He was hardly going to admit that he’d made the injury worse by slamming it against the passage wall. He turned to peer at Drake on the other side of the Hub, ankle-deep in electrical cables where Danforth had been working before. As Drake shouted something across to Sweeney at another panel, he sounded panicked. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Will said to Parry.
    “Other than the fact that we should be out hunting those Styx twins and their women, yes, we’re in serious trouble down here,” he replied. “Danforth has done a hatchet job on all the Hub systems. Everything’s shut down.” Parry’s voice was so low and grim, Will had a job to hear him as he spoke.
    “Everything?” Will asked.
    Parry sighed. “All we’ve got are a couple of satphones with no means of getting a signal, some industrial batteries, and a single laptop that’s still functioning.” Parry took in a breath, then released it slowly. “Maybe I’m giving Danforth too much credit — and when I see him again, rest assured that I’m going to throttle the filthy traitor — but I don’t believe he wanted us dead. I don’t believe he ever imagined that it would come to Mrs. Rawls detonating the explosive vest.”
    “You don’t?” Will asked.
    “No, he only wanted to contain us long enough so he could get clear. But Danforth’s nothing if