The digging machine.

For several more hours the men clamber down the tunnel, every now and then stopping to eat some rations they’ve managed to bring along. After an exhaustive hike they estimate that it’s near enough to nighttime, and finding a off shooting cave, with level floor they make camp.

Unfurling their sleeping bags and drinking a little water they lay down, each one using his bag as a pillow, in the center of their small ring the lantern sputters and burns, its mantle a hot glow of phosphorescent light that spills and spooky sheen across the damp walls.

“Say that beast, Feeland, was something else?” Henry utters as he settles into the bag, his teeth working on some dried beef strips.

“You can say that again lad.” Albert agrees, “and what did you make of its kin?”

“They weren’t his kin.” Tom answers, his voice detached and cold, “That was his larder.”

Looking at each other Henry and Albert share a concerned smile, Henry speaks first, “What would make you say that?”

“Look how closely he guarded them, running his hands over the eggs, the hungry smiles he had for the little beasts, and the simple fact that they bore no resemblance to him.” Toying with his knife he adds, “Oh he did love them like a father and like a chief loves his cook pot.”

Albert shakes his head in dismay, “I think your mad, you got all that from our brief exchange?”

“It was quite obvious, a mind so devious can not be trusted.”

Smirking Henry looks softly at this friend, “That much I got from the exchange, we should be watching our backs while that things behind us.”

“Agreed.” Echoes Albert.

Pushing their feet further into the bags the men lay down their heads, slowly each one drifts off into sleep, the dull flicker of their lantern splashes light across the walls, the only light this little alcove has ever seen.

An unknown amount of time passes before Tom is shuddered awake by the crack of rock on rock, a sound like that of heavy feet displacing stones in a shallow river. His eyes flicker open; darkness prevails, the lantern having been guttered several hours previous sits cold and dark on the cave floor.

Blinking out the sleep Tom looks about with his eyes, avoiding moving his head or body for fear of dislodging more stones and making a sound. Nothing but darkness fills his vision; he in fact has trouble discerning if his eyes are still closed.

As he scans the cavern, his vision adjusting to the darkness slowly; then suddenly, as if its been there all along, his eyes detect a glowing red presence, almost painting the walls in a dull sheen, some one hundred feet in the distance.

In the crimson glow human shapes move, silhouetted against the rock wall, their shadows dancing in an ancient rhythm, back and forth, back and forth.

“Lads.” He whispers while reaching across to shake Henry’s shoulder.

The man wakes with a start, the darkness filling his vision with a moment of fear, slowly the light resolves and he too sees what Tom’s woken him for.

Shaking his head Henry asks “What do you suppose it is?”

“The coalition!” Albert answers from behind the two. “I woke an hour ago, I’ve been watching them since.”

“Do you have any idea what they’re up to?” Henry asks while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I think they may have encountered some trouble and these two have been left to guard the pass, the glow’s odd, it wavers a little but unlike a fire it’s consistent and hot, hotter than any fire rather.”

Henry moves slowly between his friends, “I think we should move down there and take a closer look, if they’re sentries then we must either avoid them or capture them.”

“Silently either way.” Tom adds.

Agreeing on this action the men quickly roll their bags up and stow the rest of their gear, taking extra care to be quite. After several minutes all three are advancing down the tunnel, which at this point has leveled out somewhat and now moves in an almost horizontal fashion.

Being careful not to make any sound they take their time, each one tests the ground with toes before committing to the step. Ever so slowly the advance to the tunnel bend, the red glow helping them pick the way through crushed rock and water puddles.

After scurrying and sliding over the floor they reach the glowing bend in the tube; ahead, as they peer around, two men walk back and forth, as if patrolling. Behind their darkened shapes a huge glowing cone of hot metal rest against the rock wall, looking as though it’s rolled naturally to the side of the cavern.

The room itself rises upwards into darkness; single points of light blink and shimmer at the very depth of their vision, while across the great expanse a natural blue-green light pervades and organic cleft in the rock wall. Like that cleft this room appears to be natural.

“What the devil is that thing?” Henry whispers over his shoulder.

“I’d say that is the burrowing device, the machine they’ve used to create this tube we’ve been following.” Albert advances.

“True my friend, the damn things red hot, all that grinding and ripping through the rocks has taken its toll.”

Henry moves several steps forwards to take a closer look, his eyes working over the tool. “Why would they leave guards?”

Raising his hand to point out an apparatus Tom quietly says, “To sound the alarm should we stumble upon them.”

Sure enough his outstretched hand marks out a black box with mounted amplifying horn, and presumably siren record pre-loaded.

“We will have to be cautious, we can’t afford this enemy the knowledge of our approach.” Tom says under his breath.

⚅⚀thoughts