"Sure!" Chester nodded eagerly.
Elliott tapped Will on the shoulder. She was so close to him, he was a bit taken aback. She pointed at the outcrop behind the letterbox opening. "Take that side," she whispered. "If you see anything, don't shout, just tell me. Got that?" She started to hand Will one of the small metal cylinders Drake had been carrying, but he spotted what she was doing.
"No, Elliott, he doesn't know how to use it yet. If it comes to that, just scram and lead them away. We'll regroup at the emergency RV, OK?"
"OK. Break a leg." She smiled under her shemagh as she snatched the cylinder back from a bewildered Will.
"Thanks," Drake said, then jumped in the opening, with Chester close behind.
After they'd gone, Will hunched down low against the rocks, scouring the darkness. The minutes passed.
"Pssst!"
It was Elliott.
Will looked around. He couldn't see her.
"PSSST!" It came again, louder this time.
He was about to call out to her when she landed right behind him, as if she had dropped from the sky. Evidently she'd been on top of the outcrop.
"Something going on over there," she whispered, pointing off into the darkness. "It's a long way away, so don't panic. Just keep your eyes peeled." She was gone before Will had a chance to ask her exactly what she'd seen. He peered in the direction she'd indicated. As far as he could tell, there was absolutely nothing there.
After several minutes, a distant, deep, rumbling boom resounded across the plain. There was no flash, but Will was certain he felt the percussive shock on his face, a faint wash of warm air over and above the constant breezes. He stood up, and Elliott was back in an instant.
"Thought so," she whispered into his ear. "It's the Limiters sending another Coprolite settlement sky-high."
"But why would they do that?"
"Drake thought perhaps you could tell us."
Will saw her keen brown eyes flash through the parting in the shemagh.
"No," Will replied hesitantly, "why should I know?"
"This only started — the hunting of our friends and any Coprolites who deal with us — about the time you showed up. Maybe you brought it on. So what did you do to get the Styx so stirred up?"
"I… I…" Will stammered, stunned by the suggestion that he was somehow to blame for the Styx's actions.
"Well, whatever you did, they won't let it go. I should know." Her eyes flicked away from him. "Keep alert," she said., making a catlike leap up the sheer incline of the rock outcrop, her outsized rifle balanced in her arms.
Will's mind was whirring. Could Elliott be right? Had he brought down the wrath of the Styx on the renegades and Coprolites? Was he in some way responsible for all of this?
REBECCA!
The thought of his one-time sister made him choke. Could she still be out for vengeance? Her evil influence seemed to follow Will everywhere he went, slithering after him like a poisonous snake. Was she behind what was happening? No, that would be just too outlandish.
He thought back to the moment he and Chester had first entered the underground world, through one of the Colony's air locks and into the Quarter, setting off a chain of events over which he'd had no control. Then he began to think about how many lives had changed for the worse as a result.
For starters there was Chester, dragged into this terrifying mess because, out of the goodness of his heart, he'd offered to help Will search for his father. Then there was Tam, who had lost his life defending him in the Eternal City. And he couldn't forget Tam's men: Imago, Jack, and the others, who were probably on the run right now. All because of him. The burden was way too much to bear. No, he tried to convince himself, this can't all be on me. It can't be.
A commotion coming from the letterbox opening distracted Will from his tortured thoughts. He saw Drake racing away from the sugar trap, white particles scattering from his head and shoulders like a sprinkling of confetti. He was carrying Cal's limp body. Chester climbed out behind him.
Drake paused for the briefest instant to shake off his mask, then resumed his mad dash, heading directly for the canal.
"Come on," Elliott said to Will as he stood watching dumbly.
The trio followed Drake, pale particles swirling in his wake. But he didn’t stop once he'd reached the canal. He hurtled from the bank, straight into the dark river, with a huge splash. Water closed over him, until both he and Cal were totally submerged.
Will and Chester stood on the bank, watching. As the water became calm again, there was only a clutch of air bubbles to mark the spot where Drake had jumped in. Will glanced at Chester.
"What's he doing?"
"Dunno." Chester shrugged.
"Did you see Cal?"
"Not really," Chester replied.
There was a small splash as if, far below, the water was being agitated. Small ripples spread out from the turbulence, then the surface becalmed again. Seconds passed.
Still staring blankly into the canal, Chester spoke in a despondent voice. "He looked pretty dead to me, but I couldn't really see."
"You didn't go into the cavern?"
"Drake made me wait outside. He moved inside it very slowly… I suppose he was trying not to set the things off. But then he came out run—"
He stopped speaking as Drake's head broke the surface. The man bobbed up, drawing several deep breaths. They couldn't see Cal's body: Drake kept it underwater. With a few one-armed strokes, he swam to the side, where he braced a shoulder against the crumbling stone bank. He raised Cal out of the water so the upper half of the boy's torso was visible and shook him savagely. Cal's head whipped from side to side as if it might detach altogether from his shoulders. Then Drake stopped, holding Cal still as he peered at his face.
"Shine your lanterns on him," he ordered.
Will and Chester did as they were told. The face was horrible to look at: deathly blue and speckled all over with raised white blotches. There didn't seem to be the smallest sign of life. Nothing. Will began to despair again. His brother was dead and there was nothing anyone could do to change that.
Then Drake shook the boy again and slapped him hard across the face.
Will and Chester both heard a gasp.
Cal's head twitched. He took a tiny breath, and then coughed weakly.
"Thank goodness, thank goodness," Chester was saying over and over again. He and Will looked at each other, wide-eyed with disbelief. Will just shook his head, dumbfounded. This was beyond his wildest dreams — his brother, before his very eyes, seemed to have returned from the dead.
Cal took a couple more wheezy breaths, then coughed again, stronger this time. Then he was coughing nonstop, his throat rasping as though he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His head jerked around on his shoulders in a spasm and he was violently sick. "C'mon, boy! Good," Drake said, holding him. "That's it!"
He hoisted Cal up as far as he could.
"Take him," he told them. Will and Chester each grabbed Cal under the arms and dragged him out onto the bank.
"No, don't lay him down!" Elliott said. "Get him on his feet. Get his shirt off. Walk him around, keep him moving. It'll work the poisons out."
As they stripped the shirt off his body, they saw Cal's blue-tinged skin in all its glory. Its surface was peppered with raised white welts. His flame-red eyes were open, and his mouth moved in wordless shapes. One on either side, Will and Chester walked the diminutive figure in quick circles. Cal's head rolled loosely as they went, but he was unable to shuffle even a step under his own steam.
Drake had climbed out of the canal and was squatting on its bank as Elliott scanned the horizon with her rifle scope.