Tunnels 05 - Spiral

of you grab your kit.” He surveyed the Bergens and weapons lined up at the back of the hallway. “My father will take you to the Bedford.” He threw a look at Colonel Bismarck, about to say something, but then seemed to check himself and addressed Will instead. “Got your lens handy?” he asked the boy.
    Will pointed at the top of his Bergen.
    “Good,” Drake said. “We won’t be using lights for most of the way, and I could do with a co-driver. You up for that?”
    “Sure . . . yes,” Will answered, flattered that he’d been picked instead of the Colonel.
    Having collected his Bergen and a couple of bags of equipment for Drake, Will didn’t have time to say good-bye properly. Giving his mother a quick hug, he turned to Elliott, but she was too busy getting herself ready to notice him. Then he and Drake rushed from the hallway and down the corridor to the kitchen. To Will’s surprise, Drake left the lights on in the room as he crossed to the back door, and even switched on the outside light.
    “You’re going to wave this about once we’re mobile,” Drake said, handing him a powerful searchlight. “We want them to see us.”
    “We do?” Will asked.
    “Didn’t I tell you we’re the hare?” Drake said with a chuckle. “We’re going to draw the Styx after us and give Parry a chance to slip quietly away in the Bedford.”
    They went toward the rear of the house, where there was a shed that Will had never bothered to investigate. As Drake swung the doors open, Will smelled gasoline, and in the small amount of moonlight, he could make out an angular vehicle. It had a windshield but no roof.
    “My old jeep,” Drake said, throwing his equipment into the back. “Had it since I was a boy.”
    “Whoa!” Will recoiled as a bizarre face loomed at him from out of the darkness.
    “Keep your pants on, laddie,” Sweeney growled. He turned to Drake, who was already behind the steering wheel. “Heard our guests coming up the drive. Caught snatches of something I didn’t recognize — might be words, but it sounded bloody ugly.”
    “They’ll be speaking Styx,” Will said. “That’s what their language sounds like.”
    “Ah,” Sweeney said with a rumbling laugh. “The Stickies talk funny, then.”
    “Both of you get a move on. Jump in!” Drake ordered. He was about to start the ignition, when he hesitated.
    “Go ahead,” Sweeney sighed, pulling his hat down over his ears. “Vehicle electricals aren’t too painful for me, although the current in the alternator puts my teeth on edge something rotten.”
    “No, I wasn’t thinking about that,” Drake said. “Why would Limiters speak during an operation? They’re too adroit, too good for that.” He shrugged, then started up the jeep, turning the headlights on full beam. “Time to shine that searchlight around,” he told Will.
    Revving the engine to make as much noise as possible, Drake backed the jeep out of the shed, then raced around to the front of the house and onto the drive. The wheels were churning up the gravel as Will pointed the strong beam down the hill where the Styx would be advancing.
    “That should do it, Will. No way they’ll have missed that!” Drake shouted above the roaring engine. He threw the jeep down the other side of the house, flooring the throttle to ensure it cleared a drainage ditch. Landing with a crash on the other side, they cut across several fields until Will saw a fence up ahead. But Drake didn’t stop, slamming straight through it and down an incline. “That’s the new north gate,” he laughed. “Lights out now, Will. Time to go dark.” He flipped his lens down at the same time as he extinguished the jeep’s headlights. “Silent running from here on in, chaps,” he said.

    Everyone filed after Parry as he swept down the flight of stairs to the basement. He hurried through the dimly lit and dusty corridor, taking them past the gym, the wine vaults, and finally the armory. As he came to a door of reinforced metal plate at the end of the corridor, he stopped to check that everyone had kept up.
    “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he asked as Colly poked her head out from behind Mrs. Burrows.
    Not waiting for an answer, he turned back to the door and, from across it, lifted out an iron locking bar laced with cobwebs. “I might need some help with this,” he said to Chester, indicating the grips on the side of the door. As they both heaved, it wouldn’t budge. Then, on the second attempt,