Tunnels 06 - Terminal

away from each other. And all the time fresh air was being pumped into the chamber – they could hear it rushing through the vents.
    Then, at the very moment the banks of ultraviolet lights went out, a voice spoke to them over the intercom by the entrance to the second chamber. ‘Move through to the next area now, please,’ it directed.
    ‘Ladies first,’ Will said, keeping himself turned well away from Elliott.
    They showered again in the cubicles on their respective sides, dried themselves down and then put on the gowns and masks Jürgen had provided for them.
    ‘Are you dressed now?’ Will asked.
    ‘Yes, all ready,’ Elliott replied, and only now did they make eye contact.
    Still a little embarrassed by the situation, Will flexed his shoulders under the white gown. ‘Been a while since I washed in hot water like that. I feel all itchy.’
    Elliott nodded, trying to hide a smile. ‘Yes, I noticed you’ve got a rash on your back.’
    ‘Huh!’ Will exclaimed, as the solenoids clunked on the door and they followed the order from the intercom to walk through into the quarantine ward itself.
    ‘How do you know that? You cheated – you bloody well looked, didn’t you?’ Will hissed at Elliott as they stepped into the corridor on the other side of the door. He knew his face was burning; the problem with his milky complexion was that even the slightest degree of embarrassment showed itself.
    Elliott giggled. ‘And you’re really quite muscly, aren’t you?’
    A man appeared from a doorway further down the corridor, and began striding towards them. Jürgen, Will assumed.
    ‘Yeah … well … you have great dimples,’ he whispered back at Elliott, grinning mischievously.
    ‘Dimples? Where? Wha—!’ Elliott burst out, but was forced into silence because the man was now close enough to hear.
    ‘So we meet in the flesh. I’m Jürgen,’ the man said, giving them each a formal bow, but not offering to shake hands with them again, maybe because he still had a concern about making physical contact despite the thorough cleansing they’d undergone.
    Dressed in blue overalls, Jürgen was a slight man, not much taller than Will. His blond hair was still damp from his own decontamination procedure, his long fringe hanging lankly in front of his blue eyes. He now brushed it to one side self-consciously. ‘I hope your skin isn’t too sore after all the washing,’ he said, smelling the back of his hand. He indicated a rack of what resembled fire extinguishers by the base of the wall, but they were painted green with German lettering on them. ‘The showers you’ve just had contain germicide, same as in those tanks. It’s an added precaution against the virus, but it can cause a skin reaction.’
    ‘Yes, Elliott noticed I had a rash,’ Will muttered, giving her a pointed look.
    Trying her best not to smile, Elliott asked, ‘So what do we do now?’
    ‘Werner’s waiting for us in the laboratory. Please come this way,’ Jürgen said, turning on his heels.
    As they set off down the corridor, Karl ran up and threw his arms around his father, hiding his face against him. With his fair locks, the child resembled his father, although he had dark smudges under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for a while. Still with his face pressed against his father, he was sneaking the occasional look at Will and Elliott.
    ‘Hi,’ Will said, but the boy didn’t reply.
    Jürgen began to walk slowly, his son still hanging on to him. ‘Karl doesn’t speak. In fact, he hasn’t said a single word since the day of the plague. You see my wife, his mother, didn’t make it into this shelter in time. We know she was on the way here … but maybe the invaders picked her up for more brainwashing. They were in the habit of doing that to anyone who appeared to be in a hurry.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Will mumbled.
    Jürgen continued to walk slowly, his voice unsteady at the memory. ‘Anyway, we couldn’t wait for her any longer. We had no choice. We had to close the main door … or we’d have been overwhelmed by all the other people in here.’
    ‘You said brainwashed ? You mean the Styx Darklit her?’ Elliott asked gently.
    ‘Darklit?’ Jürgen said, repeating the unfamiliar word. ‘With the purple light?’ He squinted and pretended to shield his face from a bright light. ‘Yes, we all had that. The people you call the Styx went through the city quarter by quarter, forcing us out of the buildings. Then they made us look