Tunnels 06 - Terminal

blood was cast aside and came to rest in the frosty grass. Chester grimaced as he saw it was the sheep’s heart. It was still beating.
    From her lack of reaction, Stephanie obviously hadn’t noticed. ‘And thank you for dealing with Martha back there. I didn’t know she was like that,’ she said.
    Chester had been completely preoccupied by the grisly spectacle in the field, but now shot a glance at Martha to see if she was watching him and Stephanie, at the same time taking a hasty sidestep away from the girl.
    ‘But what did you, like, say to her?’ Stephanie asked.
    ‘Not now!’ Chester replied in a whispered growl, intentionally not looking at her. ‘Keep right away from me while she’s around. She’s jealous, and she’ll bloody well kill you.’
    ‘Oh,’ Stephanie said, and Chester immediately set off towards Martha in the direction of the farmhouse. Stephanie remained where she was for a moment or two, looking a little taken aback, then she too continued down the track.
    It was a basic farm building of red brick, but after the night he’d had on the submarine and the revelation about Danforth, Chester was grateful just to be out of the cold and somewhere he could sit in quiet for a while. Without taking off his coat, he flopped onto the sofa in the main room, still holding the empty shotgun as he watched Martha light the fire. She fussed over it until there was a hearty roar warming the room. Stephanie, heeding Chester’s warning, carefully chose herself somewhere to sit on the opposite side of the room where she was browsing through an old magazine she’d found.
    ‘So there was nobody in this place when you got here?’ Chester asked.
    ‘It was all locked up,’ Martha replied, moving towards the doorway. ‘Are you hungry?’
    ‘You bet. What’s on the menu?’ Chester said.
    ‘Sheep,’ Martha answered. ‘That’s the one thing there’s plenty of around here.’
    ‘And you really mean just sheep?’ Chester said, pulling himself upright on the sofa.
    ‘Yes, just sheep. Nothing else. I promise,’ Martha said, giving him a crooked smile.
    ‘O … k … a … y,’ Chester said through a yawn, as Martha scurried off to the kitchen.
    As soon as she’d gone, Stephanie cleared her throat to get Chester’s attention. As he turned towards her, she shot him a what-was-that-all-about frown, but he merely shook his head.
    They could hear Martha crashing around in the kitchen at the end of the corridor. ‘She’s busy in there – she can’t hear us,’ Stephanie whispered.
    ‘Don’t count on it,’ Chester whispered back. ‘It’s not worth the risk.’
    With a shrug Stephanie went back to her magazine and Chester dozed on the sofa until Martha finally reappeared with some bowls of steaming food, which they ate at the table in complete silence.
    Well, almost complete silence. Chester was struck by the stark contrast between his two dining companions as they ate: Martha, with table manners typical of most Colonists, occasionally mumbled to herself as she slurped the juices from her spoon and chewed with her mouth wide open. The noisewas frightful, as if she was trying to make herself as repugnant as she possibly could.
    And then there was Stephanie at the other end of the table, strikingly attractive, her manners impeccable as she daintily used her fork.
    The only thing that the two of them had in common was their ginger hair – other than that they could have been from different species.
    God, I’m beginning to sound like Will, Chester thought to himself. And with that he began to think about his friend, hoping that both he and Elliott had survived their mission and were safe somewhere. Chester remembered the times they’d had together – although they’d by no means been easy, at least they’d shared the burden and endured them together. An aching hollowness inside reminded him how much he missed their companionship.
    ‘All right there, my dearie?’ Martha enquired, as she noticed he’d stopped eating. Chester could see pieces of lamb stuck in the gaps between her dirty teeth.
    Nodding, he resumed on his bowl, swapping a secret smile with Stephanie while Martha’s head was down and she was shovelling the stew into her mouth.
    But despite Stephanie’s presence there, Chester felt so alone.
    He sighed as he finished his bowl of stew, which had actually been quite appetising. As Martha, too, finished, Stephanie offered to clear the table. Martha wouldn’t have it; she