Tunnels 05 - Spiral

fully into the room. With a formal bow and a click of his heels, he took Elliott’s hand. “An honor to see you again,” he said, then acknowledged Will, who made no move to shake hands with him as he continued to eye the man with undisguised suspicion.
    “It could be a setup — a Styx trap,” Will said. “You should never have brought him here. He’s been Darklit.”
    On the contrary, Drake appeared to be completely relaxed about his presence. “Yes, although he must have been heavily programmed, it seems that a blow to the head snapped him out of it. He saw what the Styx were doing to his men — using them to do their dirty work — and for that he wants revenge.”
    Colonel Bismarck nodded as Drake went on, “And, yes, you’re right, Will. The Colonel’s aware he could be a risk to us. He’s agreed that he’s going to be kept under lock and key while he’s here.” Drake glanced at the map on the wall. “Particularly now he’s got an idea where we are.”
    Parry was regarding the Colonel with interest. “
Willkommen
,” he said. It was apparent that he recognized another military man like himself.
    “
Danke
,” Colonel Bismarck replied.
    “And how did you come across the Colonel?” Parry asked his son.
    “Someone here was a bit free and easy with the emergency number to my secret server.” Drake smiled. “Luckily, the Colonel had it on a scrap of paper tucked in his belt kit, and the Styx didn’t find it.”
    “You hope,” Will said under his breath.
    Drake ignored the comment. “And the Colonel left a message for the certain someone in this room.”
    Everyone glanced at each other with bemusement until Elliott spoke up. On the receiving end of a sharp look from Will, she mumbled, “I was hoping he’d never need to use it. But I had a hunch that he and his men would show up here on the surface before too long.”
    Will was about to say something, but Drake got in first. “Well, I’m just glad you did, Elliott. The Colonel gives us another card in our forthcoming fight with the Styx. And we’ve got a pretty lousy hand at the moment.”

    A mile away, Bartleby was scaling an ancient oak, his long claws gouging into the bark as he went higher and higher. He finally reached a cleft in the trunk, then meowed down to Colly, who meowed back and immediately began to climb after him. When she, too, had reached the cleft, Bartleby edged along a bough that overhung the perimeter wall to Parry’s estate. The humans might have understood how important it was that they didn’t wander too far, but this was meaningless to the Hunters, with their voracious appetite for fresh prey.
    Left largely to their own devices since being let loose in the grounds, they’d had the time of their lives mopping up Parry’s grouse, which he bred specially for the shooting season. In fact, the rather dopey birds had had very little idea what had hit them as the two cats stalked and ate their way through almost the whole population. And now that the grouse were rather thin on the ground, it was the Hunters’ natural instinct to hunt farther afield.
    Once he was over the top of the wall, Bartleby continued a little farther, the bough bending under his and Colly’s combined weight. He flicked his broad head, indicating to Colly that she should jump first. She’d have smiled if she’d been able. Bartleby was such a considerate mate — he didn’t want her to harm herself by leaping from too great a height, particularly not in her condition.
    She landed safely, but her departure caused the branch to spring up. Caught on the hop, Bartleby was forced to jump before he was ready. His tail spinning wildly to try to control the fall, he touched down with an ungainly thump. Right away, Colly scampered over to him to rub her cheek affectionately on his.
    Bartleby let out a small whine and, like any male, milked the moment for all the sympathy he could get from his partner. He made a big show of licking the pad on his forepaw where it had been hurt by a sharp stone. After a few seconds of this, Colly had had enough and cuffed him gently on the head.
    That did it — Bartleby concentrated on the business in hand. First thing first, he chose a suitable spot to cock his leg and spray with copious amounts of urine. After the new territory was well and truly marked, he began to advance with his nose to the ground as he relied on his highly developed sense of smell to locate their next meal.
    But it wasn’t easy — they