Tunnels 06 - Terminal

beasts against the flames but of the distinct outlines of two men in silhouette.
    The portly leader was already on his feet, and telling them to get up. ‘We’ll come along later to check that nothing escaped the fire. You see, we incinerate every last chunk of those foul beasts we can find.’
    ‘Why do that?’ Jiggs asked. ‘That looked pretty conclusive to me. They must be dead.’
    ‘You might think so,’ the portly man said. ‘But they can come back to life. We’ve seen it happen.’
    Drake was frowning as he thought of something. ‘If we can’t use a vehicle with a combustion engine, how are we ever going to reach Parry? I can’t really walk it, not the way I am.’
    The same thought had occurred to Jiggs. ‘What if we keep the revs low. Or if maybe we can somehow insulate the engine – soundproof it, that might—?’
    The portly man smiled broadly as he cut in on their conversation. ‘If you can convince me that it’s important enough, I have a better idea for you. It’s not the latest word in travel, but it’ll get you where you want to go.’

 
     
     
    Chapter Eleven

    I n the two days they’d been at the farmhouse, Chester, Martha and Stephanie had already settled into a routine, albeit a rather strange one. Martha and Stephanie rarely had anything to do with each other, while Chester was incredibly restless and ill at ease, throwing himself around the place like a bear with a bad hangover. When he wasn’t in his room – the master bedroom which Martha had insisted he have, while Stephanie was relegated to what must have been one of the children’s cramped rooms – he would take himself off for long walks.
    Stephanie would watch as he left the farmhouse without a word to anyone, then stomp off across the fields. Martha would often rush out after the boy in an effort to accompany him wherever he was going. But she was never gone long as she found it difficult to keep up with her short legs.
    And at all times Chester and Stephanie maintained their distance whenever they were in the same room. Even when Martha was far enough away not to hear, Chester didn’t seem to be in any mood to talk.
    But Stephanie couldn’t put up with the silence any longer.It was the start of the third day and they’d just had their breakfast, which hadn’t been a very appealing meal because they’d been forced yet again to eat their cereal with water because there was no way of getting hold of any milk. Martha had just gone outside into the yard to throw the dirty bowls away when Stephanie decided to speak to Chester. ‘You’re still terribly upset, aren’t you?’ she said softly.
    ‘Oh, just a bit,’ Chester answered. With a sour expression, he carefully picked off a soggy cornflake from where it had fallen on his shirt and flicked it away.
    ‘I’m sorry you are. I can’t pretend to know how you feel.’ Stephanie said this genuinely because the last news Old Wilkie had received was that her parents and brothers had managed to escape abroad and were safe. Chester had lost everything. ‘I just wish I could do something to help you.’
    ‘There’s nothing you can do, but thank you, anyway,’ he said, his head jerking as they heard the crash of the crockery shattering on the cobblestones out in the yard. ‘You know, if Parry had opened up to me about it as soon as he’d found out, I might feel differently now. But no way can I forgive him now.’
    ‘Maybe he was going to tell you after that meeting you went to?’ Stephanie suggested.
    ‘Well, he didn’t, did he?’ Chester snapped. ‘And if he had, then it would have only been because the US President put his foot in it.’ Chester snorted angrily. ‘No, I can’t get over the fact that my mum and dad died because that creep Danforth had cooked up a stupid, screw-brained scheme all by himself. If that’s actually the case.’
    ‘But Parry said he didn’t know Danforth was going to do it. You don’t believe him, then?’ Stephanie asked.
    ‘Who knows with these people? These army types are in such a mad rush to save lives that they end up killing everyone in the process,’ Chester said. ‘Collateral damage and practical military necessity, laddie,’ he added, moving his head haughtily and doing a passable impersonation of Parry, complete with Scottish accent. ‘Drake could be a bit like that too sometimes, but with Will and Elliott it was different – we always played it straight with each other. We would never have let each