by Susan Berran
OK, I can do this. I took out the second match . . . checked it . . . gripped it tight and struck it, ‘SNAP’, daMN!
The top half of the match dropped to the dusty wooden floor.
Without moving my feet, I leant down and searched for the half-match,
Looking . . .
big hairy spider,
looking . . .
dead rat,
looking . . .
half-eaten dead rat,
ah, found it in a floorboard crack. Oh great!
Hang on, my utility belt!!
I had a pair of tweezers in there somewhere. Let’s see . . . sticky tape, potato peeler, dental floss, dog whistle, ah, here it is, tweezers.
Very, very gently I lifted the match from its resting place and dropped it into my other hand.
I was starting to get ‘JAW - LOCK’ and as I stood up, I had to suck in the drool that had been building up in my mouth.
You can’t swallow when you’re holding a torch in your mouth.
Anyway, holding the half-match as tightly as I could with only the tinsiest part of my fingers, I nervously struck the side of the box.
It lit!! I’d done it, it was burning . . . it was burning very quickly towards my fingers , . . . the candles, where did I put the damn candles?
I swung my head around, frantically shining the torch all over the bench. I could feel heat from the flame on my fingertips. Twisting, searching, I fell backwards. My heel stood on something . . . TTHHWAK!!
I copped a rake right in the back of my head. With my free hand I fumbled through all the junk, where were they?
Yes . . . the torch swung round onto the candles, finally!
With my head still pounding, I quickly touched the flame to the wick and stood the candle in an old tin on the bench top . . . phew . . . OUCH! aaahhh!!!
It burnt my finger. I dropped the match and it landed in a cobweb that stretched from one side of the shed to the other . . .
. . . whoosh the flames ran across every spoke of the cobweb.
As they raced up to where the web joined the shed, I began to dance. Dance like a deranged lunatic trying to stomp out the flames before the fire could take control.
I was flipping my legs and arms about like those dancers who can kick their feet up around their ears and pick their nose with their toes.
Flames leapt about from a rag here to paper there, jumping from cobweb to cobweb, dancing across the floor. I was slapping and stomping faster than a cow running from a barbecue when she finds out she’s the main course!
Finally, it’s out; I’m stuffed!
I leant forward and rested my hands on the bench just as a big glob of drool dropped from the corner of my mouth . . . FFssss . . straight onto the candle flame, . . . oooh crap!!!!
The sweat was running down my back and making my armpits itchy. And now there was so much drool that it was running down both sides of my mouth.
Well, . . . last match.
Gingerly I took it out of the box.
Everything seemed to be happening in s l o w m o t i o n.
With a wet, sweaty hand, I struck it smoothly against the side of the box.
It lit.
I tried to remain calm as I held the flame to the wick once more.
As that beautiful flame shone, I lifted the match to my face, removed the torch from my mouth and blew . . . Drool rained across the entire area, including the match.
I waited . . . watched and waited some more. There was nothing, no catastrophic event, no fire, no more burnt parts to my body.
I did it . . . I had light!
More than ever before, at this very moment in time, I really wondered if it was worth it.
How much more could my body take? I hadn’t even got to the tunnels yet!
Well, one thing I’m not . . . is a quitter. I had to get my head together and concentrate. Time was running out.
I quickly set about safely lighting the other candles and setting them securely and safely into positions around the room.
Then I began stomping on the floor as hard as I could.
Only this time, I wasn’t putting a fire out, I was looking, or I should say . . .
. . . listening for something.
. . . CRACK! I’d found it!
I fumbled about the bench and grabbed Dad’s old hammer. Holding it with both hands high above my head, I brought it down with a tremendous SMASH! The floor cracked again.
Over and over I hit the floor, using every bit of strength I could muster. Again I looked about the shed, searching for something else to use.
A crowbar, excellent.
Forty minutes later, I’d smashed a decent size hole through the floor. There was no turning back now.
Along the wall, I studied the heap of old fence posts, wooden-handled shovels, rakes and other garden tools. They seemed frail and corroded.
It did cross my mind for just a second, how were all these tools and stuff so badly damaged when they had been in the shed all this time? But there just wasn’t the time for thinking.
I picked out the best of the worst looking shovels to start levering up the rest of the boards. Then I jammed it between two floorboards and laid my body across the handle, then, lifting my feet off the floor . . . SNAP!
The top half of the handle shot past my face like lightning, it was only millimetres from my nose. I slammed to the floor like a bowling ball off a skyscraper.
As I swallowed the dust that met me when I hit the floor, a sharp pain shot down one side. I guessed that I’d bruised my ribs pretty badly when I’d landed.
Slowly and carefully I got to my feet. With one hand, I gently raised my shirt and felt my ribs with the other . . . BLOOD! Slowly winding its way down the side of my body and into my trousers. I would have sat down if there was anywhere to sit.
I looked at the bottom half of the shovel, still standing and quivering between the boards like an enormous sword. I’d almost impaled myself on it, but luckily I’d missed, just.
My utility belt; I needed to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t much, but enough that something might be able to smell it, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Now I was getting annoyed, very annoyed. I grabbed the nearest fence post that was in there and RAMMED it through the floor again and again, punching as many holes as I could, and everywhere possible.
Then, just as before, I jammed in that post with all my strength, between the two boards right beside what was left of the shovel. This time I got around behind that sucker, got a good grip with both hands, and pulled down towards the floor.
‘CRACK, SMASH!!!’
The wood splintered into a thousand pieces, it was like the whole floor had exploded at once. The dirt and dust had created such a thick, choking smoke screen that I could only wait, blinded and searching for breath until it cleared.
Chunks of floor FLEW everywhere and I could hear pieces WHIZZING right past my ears, embedding themselves into the walls like bullets into flesh.
As the dust started to settle once more, my eyes began to focus on a number of things.
The thirty-centimetre shard of wood now protruding from my backpack . . .
The rags that had hung from the roof, now shredded like a tissue after a CAT ATTACK . . .
The numerous splinters protruding from all the walls like hundreds of needles stuck in a notice board . . .
And, I paid particular attention to the candle lying in the dust on the top of the bench that had been completely and cleanly sliced in half.
I waited for pain, for blood, for a mess in my pants.
Nothing.
I hadn’t been sliced, cut, grazed or even bruised.
Oooh, I know, I’m dead, that explains it.
I looked down, expecting to see my grizzly remains sliced and diced on the floor for Mum to find . . .
. . . which I didn’t think was so bad, because when she saw what I’d done to the shed she was going to kill me anyway.
Hey . . . I’m not l
ying on the floor, I’m still standing. I took a breath, and another.
Wow, cool. I’M ALIVE!!
The dust had formed mud cakes in and around my eyes and ears. My nostrils were packed solid. I was going to have to do a lot of digging to get them clear again.
Stretching my T-shirt out of shape, I pulled it up to my eyes and used it as a towel to wipe away the gunk.
As my blurry vision became clearer I saw it . . . it’s here!
Dad had been right all along, the tunnel opening was here.
Right at my feet!
I’d found it!!
Chucking on my backpack, I quickly jumped down through what was left of the floor.
It was magnificent, and as I shone my torch down the tunnel’s entrance, I suddenly realised how completely alone I really was.
Maybe I should’ve waited for Jared after all.
I felt the sweat of my armpits soaking through my clothes, so I lifted my good arm and gave it a sniff.
Yep, on a scale of one to ten, I was nine with a bullet . . . awesome.
The tunnel opening was larger than I’d imagined and I couldn’t put it off any longer.
It was time to go.
As I followed the tunnel, I began thinking about Mum and Smelly Melly. I guess she’s not that smelly really; and with Dad gone, I don’t know how Mum would cope without me as well.
CONCENTRATE! I had to keep my mind on the job ahead.
Straight away, I noticed a peculiar thing about the tunnel. There were no steel or wooden beams holding up the roof or supporting the sides, not even at the start of the tunnel. It was perfectly formed and perfectly smooth. As far as I could see, the wall of the tunnel was a flawless cylinder shape, going on and on into the distance, as if it had been drilled, sideways.
Yet upon close inspection of the walls, I couldn’t find any sort of tool markings. Not from a drill, a pick, a shovel . . . nothing.
There was only one thing that I was certain of, this tunnel had definitely not been made by man.
Time was running short and I had a lot of ground to cover.
The torch was brilliant, I could see further down the tunnel than I’d hoped. I just wish it could see around corners. (Note to self; invent torch that can see around corners.)
I was making good time now, moving quickly but steadily, making sure not to disturb even the smallest grain of the tunnel.
Once in a while, I would ever so gently touch my fingertip to the wall; I guess I was checking to see that it was still solid.
It seemed that whoever, or whatever had built this, must be far more advanced than us and used something incredible to construct it. The entire tunnel wall was so tightly packed that it was unbelievable.
I started to wonder what sort of civilization would live underground, and why. They had to be hiding from us, and let’s face it, you don’t hide in the closet and jump out at your sister to see her smile. Nope, you hide so you can SCARE THE HELL out of her and see her poop herself. That’s much more fun.
Wait, what was that just ahead, a shiny patch, a piece of metal? No . . . water.
I shone the torch directly at the puddle, had I done that? It wasn’t much right now, but I knew what it meant.
There had to be a leak somewhere, and not from me. There must be a weak point in the wall. Then I realised, it wasn’t just the puddle up ahead that I should be worried about; because as I followed the light beam from the torch all around the tunnel, it became eerily apparent that the entire length of the tunnel was slightly damp.
There wasn’t time to go looking for any weak point now, and anyway, if I found it . . . what could I do about it? I had to go on.
But now, with the thought that the entire tunnel system could collapse or flood at any time, I found that I suddenly had a SURGE of energy and an increased need for speed. Surely though, if it had survived this long, maybe it was damp on purpose, maybe that was how it had been constructed?
. . . WHAT WAS THAT?
With the rustling of the tree branches against the shed tin roof, I hadn’t noticed any noise coming from the tunnel . . . until now.
Dad had always said something about noises in the shed. He was close, these noises were from under the shed. I could hear a muffled sort of clicking or scratching. I had absolutely no idea what it was, but it was getting closer.
Reaching for my belt, I slid out the javelin, gripped it tightly in my hand, and thrust it forward ready to use. Because one thing I did know for sure, was that if something was to jump out in front of me, it was going to need a lot of new tissues for all the extra nostrils I’d be giving it!
I’d gone quite a way when I hit a junction with three tunnels going off into the dark. The tunnels really were as dark as Jared had told me, HEAD - IN - YOUR - BUTT dark. So which one should I take, which one would be the safest?
Maybe I should use my dental floss as a safety line? That way I’ll know where I’ve been and can follow it back if I get lost. Mum’s always saying I should use more dental floss. I don’t think this is quite what she had in mind though.
No, I might need it later for something far more important. I’m thinking of digging up some worms, tying a length of dental floss to each one, and then onto a couple of coat-hangers to make a mobile for Yelly Yucky Melly, and then hanging it above her bed. She really hates worms, so it’s going to be great.
So I think I’ll just remember which way I go and where I’ve already been.
Eeny meany miny mo!
Left, it is.
It seems I was right, taking the left was right and left me feeling right that I’d left the right one for now and left the centre one, (which was left of the right one), right till last so there’d be none left, right!?
For a while, the noises seemed to fade, and I followed the tunnel, beginning to feel slightly braver and a little more confident. I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, but this tunnel seemed older, not as well used. Then I saw why . . . a dead end.
A wall of SOLID ROCK was blocking the tunnel, it wasn’t going any further.
Using the javelin, I poked and prodded at the boulder. There was no way I was going to move it, at least not without a lot of digging. I could see that nothing was going to get through that.
So I returned to the junction . . . one down, two to go.
This time I followed the tunnel to the right.
I was constantly amazed at the perfection of the tunnels, how the strength seemed to come from the tightly packed walls and not any sort of constructed framework.
With the lightest of touches, I scratched along the wall of the tunnel with the tip of the javelin, only a couple of centimetres though; I didn’t want to start a chain-reaction and make the whole thing collapse.
There was that noise again, only louder now. It was definitely coming from just up ahead.
Placing just one finger delicately on the wall, I could feel a strong vibration. It reminded me of when we’d lived in the city, with all those trucks rumbling right past the front door and vibrating the whole house; it reminded me how Smelly Melly just about vibrates her nappy apart when filling it after a big bowl of steamed cabbage.
But still I couldn’t see where, or what it was coming from.
This tunnel was definitely a lot more popular than the other, it was well-worn and even drier.
There were also heaps of minor tunnels branching off in every direction possible. There was no way I’d have time to explore them all, not now anyway. I kept shining the torch down the start of every tunnel but I thought it best to stay with the major one for now. There seemed to be a lot more twists and turns, almost as if whatever had made this was trying to create some sort of complicated maze system.
Maybe in an attempt to spread, to prepare to take over the town . . . and further . . . or, maybe it was to keep other things out, other things . . .
. . . like me.
It was constant now, that sound, echoing towards me, clicking, scratching . . . almost like a sword fight scene in
an old movie. But not three or four men, more like three or four hundred men, sword fighting, and wearing armour . . . with grasshoppers inside them, also sword fighting, and wearing armour.
I followed the beam of light from my torch, like a maggot to meat.
As the light shone around every bend, my heart rate quickened.
I wasn’t quite sure how much of the sound was real and how much was the sound of my heart beating and pounding through my brain.
Beads of sweat rolled off every part of my body. I took a deep breath and just about passed out from my own stench.
If I sat in a bowl, I could have ‘me’ soup.
My body was shaking, my head pounding . . . that sound ahead; I felt sick, I felt weak, I felt I should have gone to the toilet before I came down here.
There was something just ahead, I lifted the torch and shone the beam . . .
aaahhh . . . no light!
Did I bring extra batteries?
I threw down my backpack and searched desperately in the dark.
“Don’t panic, there’s no need to panic,” Mum always said.
Well, she’s not down here in the dark, with a full bladder and an army of God knows what around the next corner!
Found them!
I shoved those batteries in and lifted the light . . .
What was that!
It was enormous. A huge cavern opened out in front of me.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
It was absolutely incredible, frightening and wondrous, all at the same time. Compared to the width of the tunnels, this cavern was gigantic. It was like comparing an elephant butt to a zit. It went on and on in every direction possible.
The whole cavern was alive.
It was as if the walls, the floor, the roof; every last bit of space seemed to be moving. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of . . . I don’t know . . . some sort of animal, reptile, ALIEN?
Whatever they were, they were incredibly active, each and every one of them, not one was still.
