The ball of energy began to edge into the center of his skull, the humming growing more intense now, the throbbing pulse enveloping him in a thick blanket of pressure.
'Are you with the man called Burrows?'
Will's head was swimming, waves of pain rippling through him. His feet and hands were tingling with intense pins and needles. This horrible sensation was slowly enveloping his whole body.
'He's my dad!' he shouted.
'What is your purpose here?' The precise, clipped voice was closer now.
'What have you done to him?' Will said in a choked voice, swallowing back the rush of saliva flooding into his mouth. He felt like at any moment he was going to be sick.
'Where is your mother?' The measured but insistent voice now seemed to be emanating from the ball inside his head. It was as though both Styx had entered his cranium and were searching feverishly through his mind, like burglars ransacking drawers and cupboards for valuable items.
'What is your purpose?' they demanded again.
And Will again tried to struggle against his bonds, but realized he could no longer feel his body. In fact, it felt as if he had been reduced to nothing but a floating head, cast adrift into a fog of darkness, and he couldn't fathom which way was up or down anymore.
'NAME? PURPOSE?' The questions came thick and fast as Will felt all his remaining energy seep out of him. Then the incessant voice became fainter, as if Will were moving away from it. From a great distance, words were being shouted after him, and each word, when it finally arrived, set off small pinpricks of light at the edge of his vision, which swam and jittered until the darkness before him was filled with a boiling sea of white dots so bright and so intense that his eyes ached. The entire time, the scratchy whispers swept around him, and the room spun and pitched. Another deep wave of nausea overwhelmed him, and a burning sensation filled his head to the bursting point. White, white, blinding white, cramming into his head until it felt as if it were going to explode.
'I'm going to be sick… please… I'm going to be… I feel faint… please,' and the light of the white space seared into him and he felt himself growing smaller and smaller, until he was a tiny fleck in the huge white emptiness. Then the light began to recede, and the burning sensation grew less and less, until everything was black and silent, as if the universe itself had gone out.
He came to as the Second Officer, supporting him under one arm, turned the key in the cell door. He was shaky and weak. Vomit was streaked down the front of his clothes, and his mouth was dry with an acrid metallic taste that made him gag. His head was pounding with pain, and as he tried to look up it was as though part of his vision were missing. He couldn’t stop himself from groaning as the door was pulled open.
'Not so cocky now, eh?' the officer said, letting go of Will's arm. He tried to walk, but his legs were like jelly. 'Not after your first taste of the Dark Light,' the officer sneered.
After a couple of steps, Will's legs gave way and he fell heavily onto his knees. Chester dashed over to him, panic-stricken at his friend's condition.
'Will, Will, what have they done to you?' Chester was frantic as he helped him over to the ledge. 'You've been gone for hours.'
'Just tired…,' Will managed to mumble as he slumped down on the ledge and rolled up in a ball, grateful for the coolness of the lead lining against his aching head. He shut his eyes… he just wanted to sleep… but his head was still spinning, and waves of nausea were breaking over him.
'YOU!' the officer bellowed. Chester jumped up from beside Will and turned to the officer, who beckoned to him with a thick forefinger.
'Your turn.'
Chester looked down at Will, who now lay unconscious.'
'Oh, no.'
'NOW!' the officer ordered. 'Don't make me ask you again.'
Chester reluctantly came out into the corridor. After locking the door, the officer took him by the arm and marched him off.
'What's a Dark Light?' Chester said, his eyes glazed with fear.
'Just questions.' The officer smiled. 'Nothing to worry about.'
'But I don't know anything…'
Will was woken by the sound of a hatch being pulled back at the base of the door.
'Food,' a voice announced coldly.
He was starving. He lifted himself up onto one arm, his body aching dully, as if he had the flu. Every bone and muscle complained when he tried to move.
'Oh, God!' he groaned, and then suddenly thought of Chester. The open food hatch shed a little more illumination than usual into the cell and, as he looked around him, there on the floor at the base of the lead-covered ledge was his friend, lying in a fetal position. Chester 's breathing was shallow, his face pale and feverish.
Will staggered up onto his legs and, with difficulty, carried the two trays back to the ledge. He inspected the contents briefly. There were two bowls with something in them and some liquid in battered tin cups. It all looked terribly unappetizing, but at least it was hot and didn't smell too bad.
' Chester?' he said, crouching down by his friend. Will felt awful — he, and he alone, was responsible for everything that was happening to both of them. He began to shake Chester gently by the shoulder. 'Hey, are you all right?'
'Urgh… wha…?' his friend moaned and tried to lift his head. Will could see that his nose had been bleeding; the blood was caked and smudged across his cheek.
'Food, Chester. Come on, you'll feel better once you've eaten something.'
Will pulled Chester into a sitting position, propping his back against the wall. He moistened his sleeve with the liquid from one of the cups and began to dab at the blood on Chester 's face with it.
'Leave me alone!' Chester objected weakly, trying to push him away.
'That's an improvement. Here, eat something,' Will said, handing a bowl to Chester, who immediately pushed it away.
'I'm not hungry. I feel terrible.'
'At least drink some of this. I think it's some sort of herbal tea.' Will handed the drink to Chester, who cupped his hands around the warm mug. 'What did they ask you?' Will mumbled through a mouth full of gray mush.
'Everything. Name… address… your name… all that stuff. I can't remember most of it. I think I fainted… I really thought I was going to die,' Chester said in a flat voice, staring into the middle distance.
Will began to chuckle quietly. Strange as it might seem, his own suffering seemed to be relieved somewhat by hearing his friends complaints.
'What's so funny?' Chester asked, outrage in his voice. 'It's not funny at all.'
'No.' Will laughed. 'I know. Sorry. Here, try some of this. It's actually pretty good.'
Chester shuddered with disgust at the gray slurry in the bowl. Nevertheless, he picked up the spoon and poked at it, somewhat suspiciously at first. Then he sniffed it.
'Doesn't smell too bad,' he said, trying to convince himself.
'Just eat it, would you?' Will said, filling his mouth again. He felt his strength begin to return with each mouthful. 'I keep thinking I said something about Mum and Rebecca to them, but I'm not sure if I didn't dream it.' He swallowed, then was silent for several seconds, biting the inside of his mouth as something began to trouble him. 'I just hope I haven't gotten them in trouble, too.' He took another mouthful and, still chewing, continued speaking as another recollection came back to him. 'And Dad's journal — I keep seeing it in my mind, clear as anything — as if I'm there, watching, as their long white fingers open it and turn the pages, one by one. But that can't have happened, can it? It's all mixed up. What about you?'
Chester shifted a little. 'I don't know. I might have mentioned the cellar in your house… and your family… your mum… and Rebecca… yes… I could have told them something about her… but… oh, God, I don't know… it's all a jumble. It like I can't remember if it's what I
'Wonder what time it is…,' he sighed, '…up there.'