Digger 1.0

by Michael Bunker

  ~~~

  Up top, Chuck, Rooster, Kay, Neil, Marlon, and Patrick were busy on another project.

  They were rigging Fontana’s Bridge to blow.

  Shooter and Renny were on overwatch duty.

  Delores would be in the farmhouse, working on the next meal. She didn’t like the idea of messing around with bomb material, so she’d left that duty to Kay.

  Kay was reading the Army field manual on explosives and familiarizing herself with the whole process, while the other five were crawling over and under the metal bridge like monkeys, following the directions Kay would shout to them when necessary.

  Rooster was doing more climbing and playing than working, but that kept her out of everyone’s way, so they all just let her play.

  “Run that wire underneath the rail supports where it can’t be seen!” Kay hollered to Chuck, who nodded at her without looking up.

  “Check the wires every inch of the way,” Kay shouted at Neil, “if there’s a kink or a split in the line, the thing won’t blow when we need it to and we’ll all die!”

  “We’re checking the lines!” Neil shouted back. “Sheesh! Everyone knows that! Just make sure everything will go off in the right sequence. We’ll check and double check the wires before we hook up the detonator extensions. C’mon Kay, you’re acting like this is the first time we’ve ever rigged a huge suspension bridge with military grade explosives!”

  “It is the first time, Joker,” Kay yelled back. “Just do what I say and maybe we’ll all live. Maybe.”

  She turned back to the book and whispered to herself. “Line to the sniper nest. Errr… pillbox. Right. They make me call it a pillbox for some stupid reason. Uhh. Line to the house. Line to the barn. Line to the tunnels up under Utah. So we need four sets of lines, and four hand-crank generators to send the charge. Do we have four?” She stared off into the middle-distance and counted on her fingers. “Yep, we have four. At least four. Maybe more.”

  ~~~

  At the pillbox, Shooter watched over the workers scurrying on the bridge through his scope.

  This is taking too long, he thought. Too much time spent being exposed.

  He looked up toward Utah and saw young Renny who was scanning the bridge area with his ‘nocs.

  This is taking way too long.

  He looked down through the valley again, past the work being done, then swept the area leading up the steep hill to the bridge from beyond the Solekeep.

  “Too long,” he whispered, then began doing a quadrant scan from west to east.

  There. Movement.

  He scanned back and waited, hoping to see a flash or an indication of whatever he’d seen. But there was nothing. He held there for a full three minutes, barely breathing.

  Something. He’d seen something move.

  He’d become a crack shot in every way imaginable. Seated. Standing. Lying down. He could consistently hit moving targets from over 800 yards, and he could set up and fire accurately in seconds. With a trained spotter he was even better. Now that they’d uncovered a ready stash of more ammo, he knew he could practice even more, and he was convinced he could get better still.

  He’d read every book they could find on the job of the sniper, and he’d practiced for hours on end from every conceivable shooting platform the raised valley had to offer.

  Shooter knew the prevailing wind currents and conditions from every point up to half a mile away from the valley. And in the last two years, they’d even taken the time to transplant cattails down by the Solekeep and stands of reeds and buffalo grass at strategic points in the climb up to the bridge, so he could judge wind speed and direction in a heartbeat from wherever he might be shooting.

  His own position wouldn’t be given away by a momentary sun reflection, he knew that. He was set back deep in the pillbox, in the darkest of shadows. His rifle was set on a flat desktop, a solid oak remnant of the days before the Beginning, and the nest was almost completely invisible from everywhere… unless one was to walk up on it. Which wouldn’t be likely.

  And he could move too. He could fire and be gone in seconds. Up to the shooting nest in the pines, or over to the rocks in Utah. All without being seen. The new tunnels they’d found gave him the ability to appear in just about any elevated position in a short amount of time. This gave them some advantage during an attack which must inevitably come from below. From down by Fontana’s Bridge.

  “Multiplying our force.” That was what Ellis had called it. Making one, well-trained defender seem like three. Or five. Or ten. And with two or three snipers set up, they could be a pretty destructive force. Muddy up the plans of any attackers. Perhaps taking out their leadership if need be.

  Some of the others were good with sniping too. Renny, though he was very young, had a good eye. Ellis was very good too, and any number of them had the skills to set up a crossfire position in the barn, or from Utah, or anywhere else if it became necessary.

  He steadied his breathing and heart rate and even timed his blinks to make sure he wouldn’t miss any action in the quadrant where he was sure he’d seen movement before.

  But nothing moved.

  He remembered a joke that Ellis had told from a movie he’d seen back before the Beginning. A helicopter gunner was asked about how he could tell an innocent civilian from an enemy Viet Cong combatant. “Easy,” the gunner said. “Anything that moves is VC. Anything that does not move is well disciplined VC.”

  Well, Shooter thought, if anyone is down there spying out the work being done on the bridge, he or she is well-disciplined.

  He kept his scope on that quadrant for two more minutes but nothing moved.

  “Good work, whoever you are,” he said to himself, even though he didn’t really believe someone was down there. “Good work.”

  ~~~

  Ellis forgot how long he’d been underground. Was it a full day? A day and a half? He’d told the family he’d be working and not to expect him back until morning, but time and the particular position of the sun had no real regulative meaning down in the deep. And had he told them that? Or was he misremembering? Being underground had that effect sometimes too. The up top stopped being real sometimes, if he let it. He laughed a little to himself. The spelunking might be playing with his mind.

  He was almost done mapping out the tunnel system. At least he thought he was. He still hadn’t taken the tunnel northward under the Solekeep, and there was still that southeastern tunnel that broke off from the Pillbox Express and headed… where?

  But he’d remembered to set a booby trap in that tunnel. And he’d marked it clearly from the Express so none of the family would head that way. In order for them to actually slip up and get hurt, they’d have to set records for stupid, stepping over the claymores and then walking twenty more feet to hit the tripwire and trigger the devices. Not gonna happen. Not with his bunch.

  Now he was back down the rabbit hole, just east of the big drop. Way down deep, and looking through yet another “closet” of supplies. The architect of the tunnels had regularly stopped work to carve out storage spaces, and usually those closets were filled with valuable materials. Things that could be used up top to make life better and easier, if he could ever secure the down deep. He concentrated and made a mental note of what the closet contained.

  That’s what he was doing when he heard Delores calling him through the darkness. From the direction of the tunnel entrance. Her voice tumbled through the damp air, but he could hear it clearly. And she wasn’t happy.

  She was up the ladder of the big drop and standing in the offshoot tunnel, the one that led straight south to the barn. They’d found half a dozen tunnels and routes, but he knew instantly where Delores was. Voices carried well under the earth. Not like up top where the wind and the weather might carry a cry or shout away like a discarded newspaper. But down deep, the echoes were their own thing, like haunting echoes imagined from the nightmares of youth. Delores was standing and shouting down the big drop. She'd come through the entr
ance in the barn. She was standing up by the ladder, where it led upward to Utah, and down to the bottom of the big drop. The barn entrance was the easiest one, and the main one the family used.

  “Ellis James Kint!”

  Not good. Delores was using all his names. That meant she was pissed off about something. Not a new thing, but not welcome either.

  Ellis flicked on his headlight and began his slow ascent up the ladder that led vertically from the “big drop.” He’d not explored the northward tunnel much. Not at all really. He was planning on a short foray in that direction today. Because North was one of the biggest unknowns. That way led under the Solekeep River—or at least they were assuming that it must. It had to. The River was only a stone’s throw from Utah when you were up top. No one had gone beyond the limit of the torchlight in that direction down in the tunnels. There’d been too many other, closer tunnels to explore, and Ellis was constantly preaching that they wanted to map the tunnels carefully, starting with the barn and moving outward. No sense dashing under the river if there were other answers to be had closer to hand.

  “Ellis Damn Kint,” Delores shouted.

  “I’m on my way up!” Ellis yelled back into the darkness. “Give me a minute! I can’t fly up like a bat, Delores!”

  “Get up here,” Delores said, quieter this time. She knew her voice carried well under ground. “I need to talk to you right now.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Right now, Ellis.”

  The climb up the ladder of the big drop was a workout, and Ellis didn’t like to make that journey more than once a day. Twice at the most. It was also the most dangerous part of the exploration, he’d discovered. This after almost falling twice in the first day after finding the tunnels. The rebar steps were rusty and damp. They were slippery from the years and from the moist effusion of earth’s life force, even though he knew the ladder itself was strong and could hold his weight.

  Working with the headlight, he could see up or down—whichever way he was looking—and the rest of the tunnel was more than just dark. It was total blackness, just like the day of blindness, only usually without the devilish spiritual weight of that day pulling him into it. Without the omnipresent feeling of death. Without the bodies landing around him, falling from on high.

  When he was parallel with the horizontal shaft that led toward the barn, he stepped over and he could see Delores’s headlight shining at him.

  “What is it?” Ellis said once he’d reached her.

  She had her arms crossed and her foot tapped lightly on the dust and clay.

  “We talked about this as a family and you said you’d stop exploring down here all alone.”

  “That’s not what I said, Delores,” he said, shaking his head. “What I said was—”

  “I’m not going to listen to you play with words,” she said.

  “Not playing with words,” he sighed. “Just listen to me.”

  “You said you agreed it was dangerous and it would be better if no one explored the caves by themselves!” Delores said. Her voice shook slightly from the emotion she was obviously feeling.

  Ellis put his hand out in a gesture of peace. “Right after that, I said that in a week or so I’d feel better about setting up teams to do exploring duty.” He raised his hands as if it to say everything was just a misunderstanding.

  “What you said or didn’t say in what order is not the issue,” Delores said, pointing her finger at Ellis. “Everyone in that house heard you agree that exploring down here alone was dangerous. And every single one of us accepted that to mean you wouldn’t be doing it anymore.”

  Ellis pulled off his headlamp and brushed his hair back with his hand. “Well, that’s not what I said.”

  “We know what you said, Ellis.”

  “I meant that if you’d all give me another week to make sure it’s safe down here, I’d start assigning teams to do the searches.”

  “Everyone knows what you said.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing,” Delores interrupted. “You risk your credibility when you do things like this.”

  “I didn’t ask to be the leader,” Ellis said softly.

  “Never say that again!” Delores shouted.

  “I—”

  “Never! You know you’re our leader, and stop trying to shirk your responsibility.”

  “That’s why I’m down here alone. It’s my responsibility to put myself at risk first.”

  There was a long stretch of silence as the two stared at one another. Ellis was not sure what he should say, and Delores was waiting for an apology. Delores broke the silence first.

  “Well, from now on if I find out you’re down here alone, I’m going to come find you and stay with you. Just so everyone else doesn’t think you’re breaking your word.”

  There was more silence, then Ellis nodded his head. “Ok, agreed. You go back now and I’ll finish up today, and starting tomorrow we’ll do it another way.”

  “Nope. I’m going with you,” Delores said.

  Ellis threw back his head and sighed loudly. “No. Please no. I’m doing some important stuff and I need to concentrate.”

  “Translation. You are doing stupid, dangerous stuff and you want to keep at it,” Delores said. “No. I’m going with you.”

  “How can I be the leader if no one does what I say?” Ellis said.

  “That’s not fair,” Delores said. “I’ve always obeyed you. Always. Even when I thought you were wrong. But I’m not obligated to let you hurt your reputation with the children and possibly die doing something stupid.”

  “What makes you think I’m doing something stupid?”

  “Then let’s go see.”

  “Delores.”

  “Besides, it’s my birthday and this is what I want to do. So you can’t stop me.”

  “It’s your birthday?”

  “You knew it was.”

  “Maybe I did. I’m not sure,” Ellis said with a crooked smile.

  “I’m seventeen now, and today is my birthday, and I want to go see what you’ve been doing down here.”

  “Then I guess we’d better get moving.”

  ~~~

  Down at the bottom, Ellis made sure Delores had cleared the ladder, putting his hand on her back to make sure she was steady. She knocked away his hand, playfully.

  “Don’t act like I’m an old lady, Ellis,” she said.

  “That ladder is dangerous for anyone.”

  Delores stepped away from the ladder and looked around, scanning the area with her light. She saw what looked like a room that opened up to the east. “What’s that way?”

  “It’s kind of a storage room,” Ellis said. “More stuff. Explosives. Tools. Industrial chemicals. Wire. That kind of stuff. And a bunch of boxes of these marine rations. Cookie-like survival bars that taste like lemon, but they have a full calorie and nutrient profile. There are a bunch of lemon survival cookies, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “Wire?” Delores asked.

  “Yep. Stuff that can be used to make chicken fencing.”

  “Excellent, and what about that way?” Delores said, pointing to the darkened tunnel entrance that headed to the north.

  “That’s the way we’re going.”

  “So let’s go, then.” She put her hands into her pockets nervously, but then immediately pulled them out, expecting him to walk in front of her.

  Ellis caught her by the hand. “Listen. You should know that this northward tunnel almost certainly passes under the Solekeep at some point. And tunneling under a river is dangerous, very dangerous business. That’s why I was checking it all out first.”

  “And what did you find?” Delores asked. He was still holding her hand.

  Ellis shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s a curious thing. The tunnel just ends about sixty feet in. It terminates in a pond of water.” He noticed he was still holding her hand, and he dropped it awkwardly.

  “Water?”

 
“Yep.”

  “Like maybe the tunnel collapsed?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. I’d just found it when you called me.”

  Delores thought about it for a moment, and in the illumination of his headlight Ellis saw the moment when the girl —the young lady—made up her mind to plow forward. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded to herself.

  Ellis led the way and in under a minute they were standing before a pool of dark, almost stark-still water, maybe twelve feet across. The far side of the small pond was a sheer tunnel wall. A dead end.

  “What could it be?” Delores asked as she scanned the pool and the far wall with her light. “That wall is chiseled out like the rest of the walls. It ended there, on purpose.”

  “Right,” Ellis said.

  “And this pool doesn’t look to be from any epic collapse of the river. The ceiling and walls are intact. And a collapse would have filled all of these tunnels up to the level of the river.”

  “Right again,” Ellis said.

  “That means this pool is here on purpose, which means one of two things. Either this is the extent of the tunnel system, and maybe they put this pool here as a spare water cistern—”

  “Or?”

  “Or, the tunnel probably continues on the other side of that wall,” Delores said.

  “You’re a smart girl for only seventeen.”

  “And you’re only five years older than me,” she said.

  Ellis bent over and picked up a small clod of mottled clay and tossed it into the water. He counted until he saw bubbles surface on the water.

  Twelve. Maybe twelve to fifteen feet deep.

  “Those five years—the difference between my age and yours—they were lived after the Beginning, so they count double,” he said.