Tunnels 06 - Terminal

she noticed how much dust had settled on her coat. ‘Although it pains me to lose some of my children,they’re Armagi, and there are just so very many of them now,’ she said, as she began to pat her coat down, using her human limbs for the front and her insect ones for the back. ‘It’s not the same as when they took my Warriors from me. The humans only made things worse for themselves when they changed the game.’
    ‘Yes, and they haven’t quite realised that anything they attempt now is futile,’ the Old Styx agreed, nodding. ‘It’s too late for them.’
    But Hermione wasn’t listening. She’d stopped brushing her coat, and there was a sadness in her eyes. ‘But I will never ever forgive Will Burrows and the rest of them for slaughtering my Warrior Class – my true children – in that warehouse,’ she said in a low, smouldering voice.
    The Old Styx had his mind on more pressing matters. Now the smoke and dust was clearing, he’d been glancing at the street around them, and a frown had appeared on his normally expressionless face. ‘But where did Rebecca go?’ he asked.

 
     
     
    Chapter Sixteen

    ‘ W hoop! – there we go again,’ Chester said, switching on the window wipers as pieces of Armagi and the liquid that coursed through their veins splattered the windscreen for the umpteenth time.
    He’d been driving like a lunatic, not easing off on the speed even when the motorway was full of obstacles. On several occasions he’d clipped discarded vehicles in the way, almost losing control of the four-by-four and weaving all over the road because he’d been going so fast. And each time there had been a collision, he’d laughed it off, although Martha looked petrified as, sitting beside him, she hung on to her seatbelt for dear life. And Stephanie didn’t allow herself a moment’s rest, because if they were about to crash, she wanted to be ready for it.
    They’d had a welcome respite from the journey when they’d stopped to heat up some cans of food. But before they’d eaten, Martha had wandered off. Stephanie spotted her at the top of a small hill, where she seemed to be simply staring at the sky. When Martha finally returned, she told Chester that she’d learnt from the Brights that ‘nasty man’ was on the move, but they were still going in the right direction to reachhim. And she said that a Bright would be remaining with him at all times, to continue to track his movements.
    Despite what she’d told Chester, Stephanie had no idea how Martha could learn this from these large moth-like creatures that rarely seemed to stop zipping around the place. Chester didn’t seem to be very interested in this piece of news, instead keeping a whole can of baked beans with cocktail sausages to himself, while Stephanie had to share the second can with Martha.
    And then, after Chester had topped up the tank with diesel, they were off again. For once the stretch of motorway ahead was relatively clear, so it didn’t matter that Chester had his foot down.
    But after more pieces of Armagi had showered down over them, Martha kept craning her neck to peer up at the sky through the front windscreen. ‘They’re getting tired,’ she said eventually.
    Chester didn’t reply, instead rocking his head from side-to-side as if he was listening to a piece of music that only he could hear. And he made no effort to slow the car. ‘You know, dearie, they can’t keep this up all day,’ Martha tried again. ‘They need to rest just like us.’
    Chester began to fiddle with the controls of the air conditioning, turning it up and angling the vent so that the breeze was blowing full in his face and ruffling his air. ‘Getting a bit hot in here,’ he said.
    What he didn’t say was that the combination of the warm fug in the vehicle and Martha’s lack of hygiene was particularly unpleasant. Stephanie had been shouted at by Chester and Martha when she’d opened her window in the back because they said it was too dangerous. And any benefit from the air conditioning was minimal where she was sitting. Soinstead, she’d fished out her bottle of perfume from the wash bag in her Bergen and had been taking the top off to sniff it from time to time, to give herself a momentary relief from the smell. She’d gone so far as to pour a drop or two on her scarf, but this elicited such scathing looks from Martha that she didn’t dare do it again.
    ‘If we don’t slow down and take it more gently, one of my fairies