Tunnels 05 - Spiral

shelves where he’d kept his collection of finds, nor the posters he’d taped to the ceiling, of the Roman centurion and the Fire of London. He went to the window, where a mobile of brightly colored caterpillars and butterflies was gently swaying in an air current.
    He poked a finger in the face of one of the smug-looking caterpillars. “Don’t bite me! Don’t bite me!” he said in a whimsical voice.
    “I’m a Styx Warrior larva, and I
am
going to bite you,” he replied to himself, assuming a monster’s gruff voice.
    “No! Ow! Ow! Ow!” Will said, chuckling to himself as he jabbed at the caterpillar and it bounced around on its length of string. Then he became distracted by the sight of the garden below. The lawn was under snow, but he could tell it wasn’t overgrown as it had been in his time. And there were some recent additions to the garden: a paved area, a circular flower bed, and in front of the new fence at the far end, a child’s swing and sandbox.
    Shaking his head, Will let out a breath from the side of his mouth. It wasn’t
his
garden anymore. It looked like a thousand others.
    Perhaps it was better that he simply tore up his past and moved on.
    At least what he was living now was genuine and not some Styx construct.
    He heard Drake calling for him.
    “Eat that, ugly bug!” he said, punching the caterpillar so hard that the whole mobile was spinning wildly as he left the room.

    There was a rumble as the first detonation shook the building and the street around it. Everyone except Drake had decamped from the house, and Will and Sweeney were watching from the back of the mock gas van.
    “That felt like an earthquake,” Will said as the van rocked slightly on its suspension. The only other signs were some snow sliding from the roof and a couple of car alarms going off farther down the street.
    After a moment Drake opened the front door, shrouded by a cloud of dust. He waved at the van.
    “We’re on again,” Sweeney said to Will. “No, wait up — we’ve got a neighbor sticking his oar in.”
    A man was hanging around on the pavement and peering at the house. Drake went over to speak to him, showing him his fake credentials.
    The mechanic in the front of the van had been leaning over to watch the proceedings in his sideview mirror. “If he turns into a problem, I’ll deal with him,” he said, as the curious neighbor scurried off. “Otherwise I’ll just hang on here until you or Mr. Smith need something. And if you make it through to Australia, let me know. I’ve never been there.”
    Will and Sweeney jumped out, but Will made a quick detour to the rear of the Bedford, pulling himself up on the tailgate to peer through the canvas awning. Elliott was sitting with Eddie, who clearly hadn’t recovered yet from being struck with the spade. He appeared to be asleep, his eyes closed.
    “How’s he doing?” Will asked.
    “A little concussed, but he’ll be OK,” Elliott replied. “Styx are pretty thick-headed.”
    “Um — yes — that’s good,” Will said, unsure whether Elliott was being serious or not. He was still feeling profoundly ashamed of the way he’d flared up with her after his mother’s outburst.
    And Mrs. Burrows also seemed to be regretting her actions; she sat meekly in the corner with Colly. The Colonel had a pistol at the ready while he stood guard over the equipment, which was covered in a tarpaulin and secured with rope. Will glanced at the shapes under the tarpaulin, thinking how strange it was to be that close to atomic weapons.
    As he entered the house, he found Sweeney waiting for him in the hallway. “Ready for round two?” the man asked.
    “Yep,” Will said, waving his hand through the dust-laden air. He noticed a picture had fallen to the ground and that several rather severe cracks had opened up in the walls. “We’re going to trash this place. What a shame, after all the work they’ve put into it,” he added.
    The dust was even thicker in the cellar, where Drake was already shoveling the debris from the tunnel. Will and Sweeney set to work right away, helping him to clear the spoil so they could inspect what progress they’d made.
    “We’ve gained another four feet or so,” Drake said. “A couple more goes with the charges should get us through.”
    “If the roof holds up,” Will said, inspecting it for any signs of weakness. “Not too bad,” he decided, running his hand over a small fissure in the rock.
    “Yes, I’m placing the