by RR Haywood
The tunnel is smooth brick with a curved roof and a concrete floor. No hand rails or marking but solid smooth walls. Not a drip or broken piece of mortar anywhere and the engineering back then was outstanding in achievement.
‘Nick, why is the roof curved?’ I ask simply to break the silence.
‘Stronger,’ he replies quietly, ‘like bridges…the structure supports the mass.’
‘These don’t have those keystone things though.’
‘Downward gradient,’ Roy announces, ‘watch your footing.’
I feel it within a few strides, a gentle shift of gradient under my feet. Gradual but it goes on with amazing precision as we head further beneath the surface of the land.
‘Er, Nick?’ Blowers says almost whispering, ‘you know that storm.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And that it took away the land…so the sea is there now…’
‘Yeah and no, don’t worry…’
‘You sure?’
‘I think so, Roy?’ Nick calls ahead.
‘We’re deep underground now,’ Roy calls back, ‘the storm only shifted the top few feet of the land mass on the spit of land. We’d have seen signs by now if this tunnel was breached…water, damp…it doesn't even smell damp so we can assume the structure is sound.’
‘Cool,’ Blowers says.
‘Imagine if it caved in now,’ Cookey can’t help himself the daft idiot and gets a solid chorus of abuse thrown back at him.
‘What?’ Cookey laughs, ‘I was only saying.’
‘Where will it come out?’ Blowers asks again showing his nerves with a steady flow of questions from the normally quiet lad.
‘I was thinking about that,’ Roy answers, ‘probably not the housing estate as that was there after the fort and it’s also the most likely place an opposing army would set camp if they were to lay siege to the fort.’
‘Further back then?’ I ask.
‘Most likely, there’s an industrial complex there now. Is that right?’
‘In there?’ I ask.
‘More than likely, it will be an old building or…something that was present or built at the same time as the fort. Did you see anything like that?’
‘Never really looked,’ I reply.
‘After we’ve got through this,’ he says without preamble, ‘I want to go my own way.’
‘Roy!’ Paula blurts, ‘not now.’
‘What? We talked about it last night.’
‘This morning, we talked about it this morning and I don’t think now is the time to bring it up.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we’re trapped in an old tunnel!’
‘Hang on,’ I say, ‘you want to go off?’
‘We’re not trapped,’ Roy says, ‘and yes, I’m not good round people and…’
‘No shit,’ Cookey mutters from the back.
‘Where?’
‘Don’t know, Mr Howie…but all this stuff just causes me more anxiety and…’
‘Is Paula going with you?’ Cookey asks.
‘You should ask me, not Roy.’
‘Sorry, you going with him, Paula?’
‘We sort of discussed it earlier but I didn’t realise we’d actually made a decision.’
‘Oh. I thought we had.’
‘No. We did not.’
‘Right after we had sex…we agreed then…’
‘Roy!’
Splutters of laughter from Cookey and even a smirk from Blowers shaking his head.
‘You had sex?’ Clarence asks wistfully, ‘where the hell did you get the energy from?’
‘It releases all sorts of calming hormones,’ Roy replies.
‘Can we not talk about this now please?’
‘Moving on,’ I say quickly, ‘so you’re getting anxiety from all this?’
‘Yes.’
‘What does that mean? What sort of anxiety?’
‘I get anxious.’
‘What from the constant threat of death? The fact we’ve probably got the entire population of zombies coming after us or just general anxiety?’
‘I get health anxiety.’
‘What’s that then?’
‘It’s when I keep thinking I am dying, like I imagine I have tumours and diseases.’
‘Right…and…okay but we’ve got doctors now and…’
‘Oh I don’t get the anxiety now,’ he says brightly, ‘it stopped because of everything we’re doing.’
‘Okay…so…isn’t that a good thing?’
‘No. If I stop worrying about it that’s when it will get me.’
‘What will?’
‘The diseases and tumours.’
‘Do you have diseases and tumours?’
‘I hope not.’
‘So…fuck me I’m confused…so you worry about it when you’re not doing anything but because we’ve been doing stuff you don’t worry and that worries you because you’re not worrying about it? Is that it?’
‘That’s it.’
‘That makes no sense, Roy.’
‘It doesn't have to make sense.’
‘But wouldn’t you rather be busy and doing stuff so you don’t have to worry about it?’
‘That’s when it gets you.’
‘Roy, er…I’m not a doctor or anything but…I don’t think things like that get you when you’re busy.’
‘Magical thinking,’ Roy says.
‘What is?’
‘My thought processes are called magical thinking. Like I protect myself by worrying about it…but if I stop worrying about it then I know…like I know the diseases will get me.’
‘Like a shield?’ I scratch the side of my head as everyone else walks quietly, listening to the conversation.
‘Exactly like a shield.’
‘Fuck,’ I say quietly, ‘but…but then you’ll be just worrying all the time and doesn't worry and stress make shit like that worse anyway?’
‘That’s what I said,’ Paula says.
‘Plus we kind of rely on you now, mate. You’re part of the team.’
‘I only came here with Paula to find a doctor.’
‘We’ve got doctors. We’ve got four of them.’
‘Doctors are no good for me.’
‘Eh?’
‘If I’m near doctors it makes me worse…I want to keep asking them about things and they get fed up then I get worried and start imagining things are worse.’
‘Well,’ I say with a snort through my nose, ‘Lani has probably killed them all by now anyway.’
‘We need more rags,’ he says,’ these are starting to burn out.’
Silence. Worrying silence that grows heavier as the flames grow smaller.
‘Er…who has the rags?’ I ask, ‘Nick?’
‘Nope, I thought Roy had them.’
‘I thought you had them,’ Roy says.
‘I don’t have them,’ Nick says quickly.
‘Does anyone have them?’ Paula asks.
‘We need something,’ Roy says. The light dims quickly as the flames devour through the material and start dwindling.
‘Someone needs to surrender their pants,’ Roy says.
‘Blowers will,’ Cookey says from the back, ‘he likes being naked.’
‘Not a chance with Cookey down here,’ Blowers says.
‘Someone then,’ Roy says, ‘or we’re walking in the dark.’
‘Roy, you do it,’ Cookey says, ‘Paula has seen your willy anyway.’
‘Alex!’
‘What? It’s true,’ he says to Paula, ‘Roy said you had a shag…’
‘We did not shag. We had sex.’
‘I’d rather not,’ Roy says in a rare polite tone.
‘Someone has to,’ I say, ‘and Cookey’s right, Paula has seen your er…um…’
‘Penis,’ Paula sighs, ‘it is a penis.’
‘Ha! Paula said penis,’ Cookey laughs.
‘Can’t we tear a strip from Paula’s t shirt?’ Nick asks.
‘Goo
d idea,’ I say, ‘Paula?’
‘What? Why me?’
‘You’re the only one wearing a top.’
‘That’s because I have boobs and we’ve already seen the reaction these boys get from the mere presence of a woman.’
‘Eh?’ I ask.
‘Nick, earlier.’
‘What? Oh yeah…he had an erection.’
‘Boss,’ Nick groans, ‘that was Lilly anyway…’
‘So Paula wouldn’t give you an erection?’
‘Alex!’
‘Alex!’
‘Cookey!’
‘Sorry, Dave. Sorry, Paula. Sorry, Mr Howie.’
‘We don’t the need the entire top, just a few inches from the bottom,’ I say, ‘can you tear a bit off.’
‘Bloody hell,’ she says with a huff and starts feeling for the seam of her top, ‘I’m not wearing a bra.’
‘Interesting fact,’ I reply carefully.
‘I can’t…I’m not strong enough to rip it…Clarence would you mind?’
‘Here,’ he bends forward and a second later the sound of tearing is clear in the tunnel.
‘Not up,’ she says quickly, ‘don’t tear it upwards…it needs to be torn along…’
‘Okay…bugger…it won’t tear straight…’
‘It’s not paper…’
‘Oh Christ, sorry, Paula.’
‘What? Cookey asks from the back.
‘It’s okay,’ she sighs, ‘you can’t see the nipple.’
‘…’
‘Yes, I said nipple…’ Paula groans, ‘and no you can’t see the nipple…’
‘Eyes front,’ Clarence says, ‘and if I see any of you trying to peek…’
‘Here,’ she pulls the last bit free and passes it forward.
‘Quickly,’ Roy says as the tunnel plunges into darkness as the last flame dies out.
A frantic bustle takes place as the thin rag is passed hand to hand, fumbling in the dark as we all watch the soft glowing embers on the head of the torch. Roy wraps the rag on and starts blowing the embers gently which grow brighter but don’t produce a flame.
We all wait, staring intently and listening as he exhales to make them glow but they start dimming faster and faster. He blows harder, they rally and sparkly but then extinguish and we’re in the absolute pitch dark with not a flicker or gimmer of light from anywhere.
‘At least we can’t see Paula’s nipple now,’ Cookey breaks the silence.
‘Should I keep going?’ Roy’s voice comes from the front.
‘No, mate. I thought we’d stay here for a bit.’
‘Er…was that sarcasm?’
‘Yes, Roy. It was sarcasm. Keep going.’
We head off but slower, much slower. All of walking with bare feet shuffling along the ground and arms outstretched to the sides to feel the tunnel walls. Assault rifles strapped to our backs and pistols held in hands. The breathing noises become louder as the fear factor starts working on our minds.
I’ve never known such blackness before. A complete absence of light, like a void. So dark I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed.
‘Water,’ Roy says from ahead, ‘on the ground…don’t be alarmed.’
‘Fucking alarmed,’ Blowers mutters.
My spine ripples with fear as my feet slide into the cold unseen puddle and my right hand traces over a damp patch on the wall.
‘We’re under the sea then,’ Nick says.
‘Another one,’ Roy calls back.
This one is bigger and takes two steps to get through and my hand comes away wet from the feel of the trickle on the wall.
The ground has levelled out now and just keeps going straight. Without light there is no sense of time. I try counting in my head but it only serves to increase the knot of tension in my gut. None of us speak as we strain to listen and stare into the pure blackness around us.
It feels like the tunnel is getting smaller, that we’re walking into an ever decreasing tomb. The sensation of being trapped becomes palpable and threatens to take over. My own breathing becomes faster and I can tell the others are the same.
A noise ahead. A steady noise. Dripping. Water or fluid dripping to land in a pool. Still none of us speak until Roy shudders audibly from the drip on his head. Dave remains completely quiet then I feel it.
An icy sensation as the water hits the back of my neck and my feet slide into the much deeper puddle that is deeper than the size of my toes.
‘Salt water,’ Nick says, ‘just tasted it.’
‘So that means sea water,’ Blowers says in a hoarse whisper.
‘Yeah,’ Nick says in a heavy breath.
‘Stop,’ Roy comes to a sudden stop which brings us all up sharp, ‘on the right…the bricks are fractured…water is coming through…do not touch them.’
‘Oh fuck,’ Clarence says with a whimper.
‘Just walk through,’ Nick says, ‘it hasn’t breached yet so it’ll hold.’
We move on and the puddle this time is long until we’re all walking through inches of standing water that sloshes noisily. I want to touch the wall, to feel or know how bad the bricks are but the image in my head of them falling apart at the gentlest touch has my arms held firmly at my sides.
‘Brick in the puddle…watch your toes,’ Roy announces.
‘Fucking brick…’ Clarence’s voice is far higher in pitch as his breathing gets faster, ‘where from?’
‘Does it matter?’ Nick asks, ‘it’ll hold…just keep going.’
Still in the puddle but it’s deeper now, deep enough to wade through. Up to my ankles and getting higher as we go forward. Icy cold and it sends shivers through my body. Clarence gasps with increasing concern.
‘You okay?’ Paula asks him gently.
He swallows but doesn't answer.
‘Put your hand on my shoulder,’ she says, ‘I’m right here…that’s it, just keep going forward.’
‘It’s getting deeper,’ he says.
It is. The water is halfway up my shins now and I gently stretch my hand up until my fingers brush against the roof and the water runs down my hand.
‘Okay,’ Roy says, ‘we’re getting deeper now and I can feel bricks in the water…’
‘Oh Christ…oh Christ…’
‘Easy now,’ Paula says to the big man as he starts panicking.
‘Fresh air,’ Nick says, ‘there has to be an airflow in here…which means a way out.’
‘We should go back,’ Clarence says, ‘just go back.’
‘We can’t mate, you know what will happen.’
‘I’ll go back…you lot keep going.’
‘No!’ We all stop as Paula fumbles in the dark to grab him.
‘Cookey, move,’ Clarence orders.
‘Um…no?’ Cookey stands his ground, blocking Clarence from moving past.
‘Clarence, keep going.’
‘I can’t boss, the fucking thing will collapse.’
‘It won’t,’ Nick says calmly, ‘It’s just a leak.’
‘You’re alright,’ Paula says gently, ‘you are alright…come on…we’ve got to keep moving.’
The water gets to my knees, then my thighs and starts lapping at my groin which makes my teeth chatter and the icy feeling ten times worse. The sounds from the others all signal when the water hits their bits too from the gasps and foul utterances that go down the line.
The panic in me is building. Wading through freezing salt water in the complete blackness of a tunnel that hasn’t been checked or used for over a hundred years. I swallow and focus on what we need to do. Knowing that by now we must be near to the land.
Up to my stomach and still rising. Water trickles from many points, like a tap left on that is steadily filling the tunnel. We plough on and keep moving forward as every instinct in our bodies tell us to turn back. But we can’t. To go back is simply not an option.
‘Rifles up,’ Dave orders and I lift mine up to hold clumsily above the water while trying to grip my pistol at t
he same time.
Sternum now and it gets deeper still. A steady flow sounds from nearby then a dull crack and a plop as a brick falls from the wall or ceiling to splash into the water.
Clarence is near on hyper-ventilating and he’s not the only one. Blowers, Paula and even Dave in front of me then I remember how much Dave hates the water and realise the utter terror he must be going through too.
Nothing to say and I urge myself to speak, to make noise and somehow distract our minds but the very act of speaking seems too dangerous as though our voices alone could rupture the walls of the giant coffin around us.
The thought of drowning here in the pure darkness and no one ever knowing we are here is more terrifying than anything I have ever done. For it all to just end now and we die, alone and scrabbling in abject fear.
Another brick gives, then another. Gasps of fear and we wade through the deepening water. Roy keeps us at a steady pace, neither rushing ahead and causing waves or going so slow we feel even more trapped.
My chest now and moving forward is getting harder. The waves created by Roy and Dave ahead ripple out to the walls and back at me. The others behind feel the same and we hear crack after crack as the bricks fall randomly into the freezing sea water.
My rifle is held above my head but to one side because of the curvature of the roof and my sides start to cramp. The weapon grows heavier until my arms are aching and shake. I want to lower them, if only for a second to relieve the burning pain building in my shoulders.
An inch or so below my neck and I’m blinking the tears of pain and fear away. Clarence sobs behind me. His deep voice broken by terrified yelps as though made by a child.
‘We will not die here,’ I say without realising the words are coming from my mouth, ‘we will not die here.’
‘What the…’
‘What?’ We all snap the words from the exclamation from Roy at the front.
‘Meredith,’ he gasps, ‘she’s swimming back.’
‘Shit, I forgot about the dog. Is she okay?’
‘She must be tired,’ Nick says, ‘she would have been swimming for ages now.’
I track her panting as it gets closer and feel her body swim past me.
‘Clarence, see if she needs help,’ I call back softly.