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!