Tunnel Rats Ch 3 continued by Bob Baynes
Tunnel Rats Ch3 (cont’d)
……. Slithering along on my stomach in the pitch black. I hear my own heart beating. Hot, humid, foetid air is like liquid. Ears straining for the sound of another human being, survival instincts not wanting to hear that sound; they will be hostile. Stink of mud contaminated by human waste; I am not the first down here. Small pistol on my back holds 6 rounds; if I have to use it, 5 for them and one saved for me. The bitter taste of bile brought on by fear welling up in my dry mouth.
The tunnel map etched on my brain, for what it was worth; everything probably changed. The tunnel, sloping down is a mass of puddles. Their plan is to flood this area from above and drown anyone who shouldn’t be here – me! The tunnel will be left to dry out and the remains of my body removed. Thank God, now a flat bit, then gently climbing again. I fight the urge to hurry, forcing my body against its will to rush headlong to the safety of the high ground. Slowly, slowly, catchee monkey. And this is just the start, other diabolical horrors lie ahead.
The tunnel flattens out. Safe? – I think not! I try to separate out the stink of the mud for any other give-away odours; I know what I’m looking for, and dread finding it. Sure enough it’s here, a mousy smell, faintly mixed with the mud – danger close. I freeze, hold my noisy breath, nose sniffing silently and ears straining for additional clues over the loud beating of my heart; for fucks sake heart, be quiet. Then I hear it, a faint hiss, a faint slithering. Was it free or tethered? Dare I show a light? No, kill the snake in the dark; showing a light invites a bullet in my head from any silent watchers. I ease my snake stick forward, the wire noose open. Slowly, oh so slowly. I feel the slight tremor in the stick, I must get it first time. I snap the noose shut just enough to hold the snake. It thrashes angrily, got it in one, lucky. I pull the noose closed, severing, I hope, the snake’s head. If I’ve got the wrong end it will come for me in its death throes. I wait. No sounds, no vibration. What was it, probably a viper, academic, forget it, job done, move on.
Map accurate so far. Edge forward even more gingerly, sweeping the tunnel in front of me, incredibly delicately, with my fingertips which are now super sensitive. This is the stuff of recurring nightmares – if you live long enough to have any. Slither, feel ahead, move another six inches, feel again. Yes, here it is, a slender vertical stick bang in the centre of the path. With infinite care and barely discernible movement, I slip my hand higher up the stick. As expected, at the top is the open box jammed against the roof to keep the contents in; bravo boys, map accurate. Keeping the box pressed against the roof, I move it slowly to one side of the tunnel. Lots of hideous rustling and vibrations from the box. I jam the stick securely between the box and floor again, turn on my side, wriggle carefully past it, one false move and a cascade of venomous spiders, scorpions and any other disgusting creatures Charley had found will land all over me.
Safely past obstacle 3, now to start on the real challenges.
Jackie says: Strong writing, manages to be vivid and pacey even without visuals, and puts us into claustrophobic atmosphere of the tunnels very well. I guess Vietnam, but maybe Bob has been advising Ant and Dec in the Jungle?
Exciting, good momentum.
Simon says: This is a very strong piece of action writing, and a good example of how use of the Historic Present adds immediacy. We are with the narrator in real time. And the pacing is helped by rejecting traditional sentence structure. Verbs have their place in writing, but often doing without them can speed things up. And the fact that the tunnel in which the protagonist is advancing is ‘pitch black’ means he has to use senses other than sight – and thus neatly fulfils the demands of the brief. With very few brushstrokes, the character of the central character is established. He’s a professional soldier who knows his stuff and has been in situations of jeopardy like this before. This is demonstrated by the way he anticipates and deals with the threat from the snake. He is also expecting the scorpions. He is fearful, as anyone would be, but knows he is pitting his professional training against the wiles of the unseen enemy. Until the end, we don’t know for sure who that enemy is, or in what theatre of war the action takes place. Then, very economically, the single word ‘Charley’ suggests we’re in Vietnam. Neat.