Eight
Virgil was beginning to wonder if they'd taken a wrong turning. This was taking so long. Mind you, for every metre they moved forward they had to step two sideways so that Scott wouldn't have to step over anything, or bump into anything, or scratch himself on anything. Not that Virgil was worrying about his own skin. He frequently used his own body as a barrier between some sharp object and Scott. "Move a bit to your left. There's a hunk of wood with a nail sticking out."
Scott felt some sympathy for his brother. What with continuously giving directions and all the dust in the air, Virgil was starting to sound very hoarse. Scott wasn't feeling that good either. His face hurt, his body ached and he felt as if he'd run a couple of marathons. "Let's take a breather." He announced.
"What? We can't stop. The water..." Virgil croaked.
"I know, but it's time we reported in to John anyway. You rest your voice and I'll make the call. Just find me somewhere to sit." Scott was led to a wall and slid down it so his back was resting against it. He felt Virgil's watch being pressed into his hand and activated the telecom. "Scott to Thunderbird Five."
"Scott? Where's Virgil?"
"I got sick of the sound of his voice so I said I'd make the call." Scott said. He heard a sneeze from Virgil that could have been a comment on his statement.
"I've just had Dad on the line. He wants to know how your face is."
"It's sore, Johnny." Scott said honestly. "But bearable."
"Brains has got the sickbay ready for you as soon as you get home. He's downloading every file on possible treatments that he can find. He'll get you fixed up okay."
"Yeah." Scott said doubtfully.
"Maybe you should try an analgesic." John suggested hopefully.
Scott shook his head. "Didn't we tell you? We lost the pack. All we've got is what we're wearing."
"You lost the pack? How?"
"Don't ask me. All I know is that it fell down a hole and we couldn't pull it out."
"Well Global Positioning puts you at about 100 metres from The Mole. You shouldn't have too much trouble from here."
"Where have I heard that before?" Scott said.
"Huh?" John asked confused.
"I'd put you onto The Frog to explain, but you probably couldn't understand him anyway."
"The Frog?" John was wondering if Scott had more than a burnt face wrong with him.
"You want me to go on without you?" Virgil croaked.
"You wouldn't dare." Scott said tightly.
"No I wouldn't." Virgil agreed quietly.
At the sound of his younger brothers husky voice John understood. "The Frog. I like it. Matches that green plane of yours Virg. If anything looks like a frog it's Thunderbird Two."
"Hey!" Virgil started to protest, but Scott had turned so that his body was between him and the telecom.
"Guess we'd better get moving John. Hopefully the next time we call it'll be from The Mole."
"Hope so Scott. Talk to you soon."
"See ya Johnny." Scott handed the watch back to Virgil. "Time to move on."
Virgil took the watch back. He'd like nothing better than to remain seated with a nice cool glass of water, but there was no chance of that here. He stood and assisted Scott to his feet.
***
John wasted no time in reporting back to his father. "They say they're both fine. But Scott says his face is sore. He looks pretty tired too. And Virgil's just about lost his voice. Scott's given him a new nickname. 'The Frog'."
Alan and Gordon looked at each other and grinned despite their worries. 'The Frog'! They could have fun with that.
Jeff wasn't thinking about fun. "Any idea how far they've got to go, John?"
"My readings puts it at about 100 metres, but it's taken them half an hour to cover the last two hundred so don't expect them anytime soon."
"Okay John. Keep in contact. I want to know the instant they get to The Mole."
"F-A-B."
***
The debris was getting worse. It was piled up higher and thicker. "We must be getting close to the third explosion." Scott noted.
"Step to your left." Virgil said by way of a reply. Automatically Scott obeyed.
Keeping with his brother, Virgil stepped in the same direction. As he put his full weight down the plaster panel gave way and before Virgil had a chance to react his left leg slid into a hole. Virgil tried to roll so that he didn't take Scott with him, but Scott's grip on his brother's arm meant that he was dragged over too.
The sudden shifting of Scott's weight caused a steel girder to swing around before it caught itself on Virgil's calf, trapping the leg painfully.
A cloud of dust ascended into the air getting into every nook and cranny. There was nothing they could do to avoid it.
Sneezing and coughing they covered their heads in case something worse was about to happen.
When everything had stilled Virgil was lying face down in the rubble and Scott was lying on his side at right angles to his brother. He sat up. "Virgil are you okay?" he asked anxiously.
Virgil was coughing up more dust. "Yeah!" he gasped between breaths. "Just fine."
Needing to reassure himself that this was indeed true Scott managed to get to his feet. He took a step forward.
"Stop! Get off!" Virgil yelled.
Scott froze. "What!"
"You're - standing on - the beam. You're squashing me!"
"Oh." Scott automatically looked down. "Which leg."
"Right." Virgil gritted out.
Gingerly Scott moved all his weight onto his left leg. "Better?"
"Yes." Virgil managed to slide his leg out from under the girder.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked anxiously.
"Yep." Virgil said tiredly as he rubbed his leg. "Just another bruise to add to the collection." He cautiously got to his feet again and hobbled over to Scott. "Come on."
Virgil was beginning to wonder if they'd taken a wrong turning. This was taking so long. Mind you, for every metre they moved forward they had to step two sideways so that Scott wouldn't have to step over anything, or bump into anything, or scratch himself on anything. Not that Virgil was worrying about his own skin. He frequently used his own body as a barrier between some sharp object and Scott. "Move a bit to your left. There's a hunk of wood with a nail sticking out."
Scott felt some sympathy for his brother. What with continuously giving directions and all the dust in the air, Virgil was starting to sound very hoarse. Scott wasn't feeling that good either. His face hurt, his body ached and he felt as if he'd run a couple of marathons. "Let's take a breather." He announced.
"What? We can't stop. The water..." Virgil croaked.
"I know, but it's time we reported in to John anyway. You rest your voice and I'll make the call. Just find me somewhere to sit." Scott was led to a wall and slid down it so his back was resting against it. He felt Virgil's watch being pressed into his hand and activated the telecom. "Scott to Thunderbird Five."
"Scott? Where's Virgil?"
"I got sick of the sound of his voice so I said I'd make the call." Scott said. He heard a sneeze from Virgil that could have been a comment on his statement.
"I've just had Dad on the line. He wants to know how your face is."
"It's sore, Johnny." Scott said honestly. "But bearable."
"Brains has got the sickbay ready for you as soon as you get home. He's downloading every file on possible treatments that he can find. He'll get you fixed up okay."
"Yeah." Scott said doubtfully.
"Maybe you should try an analgesic." John suggested hopefully.
Scott shook his head. "Didn't we tell you? We lost the pack. All we've got is what we're wearing."
"You lost the pack? How?"
"Don't ask me. All I know is that it fell down a hole and we couldn't pull it out."
"Well Global Positioning puts you at about 100 metres from The Mole. You shouldn't have too much trouble from here."
"Where have I heard that before?" Scott said.
"Huh?" John asked confused.
"I'd put you onto The Frog to explain, but you probably couldn't understand him anyway."
"The Frog?" John was wondering if Scott had more than a burnt face wrong with him.
"You want me to go on without you?" Virgil croaked.
"You wouldn't dare." Scott said tightly.
"No I wouldn't." Virgil agreed quietly.
At the sound of his younger brothers husky voice John understood. "The Frog. I like it. Matches that green plane of yours Virg. If anything looks like a frog it's Thunderbird Two."
"Hey!" Virgil started to protest, but Scott had turned so that his body was between him and the telecom.
"Guess we'd better get moving John. Hopefully the next time we call it'll be from The Mole."
"Hope so Scott. Talk to you soon."
"See ya Johnny." Scott handed the watch back to Virgil. "Time to move on."
Virgil took the watch back. He'd like nothing better than to remain seated with a nice cool glass of water, but there was no chance of that here. He stood and assisted Scott to his feet.
***
John wasted no time in reporting back to his father. "They say they're both fine. But Scott says his face is sore. He looks pretty tired too. And Virgil's just about lost his voice. Scott's given him a new nickname. 'The Frog'."
Alan and Gordon looked at each other and grinned despite their worries. 'The Frog'! They could have fun with that.
Jeff wasn't thinking about fun. "Any idea how far they've got to go, John?"
"My readings puts it at about 100 metres, but it's taken them half an hour to cover the last two hundred so don't expect them anytime soon."
"Okay John. Keep in contact. I want to know the instant they get to The Mole."
"F-A-B."
***
The debris was getting worse. It was piled up higher and thicker. "We must be getting close to the third explosion." Scott noted.
"Step to your left." Virgil said by way of a reply. Automatically Scott obeyed.
Keeping with his brother, Virgil stepped in the same direction. As he put his full weight down the plaster panel gave way and before Virgil had a chance to react his left leg slid into a hole. Virgil tried to roll so that he didn't take Scott with him, but Scott's grip on his brother's arm meant that he was dragged over too.
The sudden shifting of Scott's weight caused a steel girder to swing around before it caught itself on Virgil's calf, trapping the leg painfully.
A cloud of dust ascended into the air getting into every nook and cranny. There was nothing they could do to avoid it.
Sneezing and coughing they covered their heads in case something worse was about to happen.
When everything had stilled Virgil was lying face down in the rubble and Scott was lying on his side at right angles to his brother. He sat up. "Virgil are you okay?" he asked anxiously.
Virgil was coughing up more dust. "Yeah!" he gasped between breaths. "Just fine."
Needing to reassure himself that this was indeed true Scott managed to get to his feet. He took a step forward.
"Stop! Get off!" Virgil yelled.
Scott froze. "What!"
"You're - standing on - the beam. You're squashing me!"
"Oh." Scott automatically looked down. "Which leg."
"Right." Virgil gritted out.
Gingerly Scott moved all his weight onto his left leg. "Better?"
"Yes." Virgil managed to slide his leg out from under the girder.
"Are you okay?" Scott asked anxiously.
"Yep." Virgil said tiredly as he rubbed his leg. "Just another bruise to add to the collection." He cautiously got to his feet again and hobbled over to Scott. "Come on."