Tunnels 03, Freefall Read Free Page A

-- it was fibrous and greasy to the touch, and he hadn't the faintest idea what it was. But whatever it was, it seemed to have absorbed the impact of his fall down the Pore. Crazy as the idea appeared, it was probably the reason he was alive now.
    "No way!" he said, dismissing the notion. It was just too far-fetched -- there must be another explanation.
    The lantern that had been clipped onto his jacket was nowhere to be seen, so he quickly checked through all his pockets for his spare luminescent orbs.
    "Blast it!" he exclaimed as he discovered that his hip pocket was torn and the contents gone, the orbs with them.
    Talking rapidly to himself to keep his spirits up, he attempted to get to his feet. "Oh, give me a break!" he wailed as he found his legs were still firmly wedged in the spongy material and he couldn't get up. But that wasn't the only thing holding him in place.
    "What's this?" he said, as he discovered the rope tied around his waist. It was Elliott's rope, which they'd used to daisy-chain themselves together at the top of the Pore. Now it was restricting his movements -- to his left and right it was firmly set in the spongy material. Without the use of a knife, he had no option but to attempt to unpick the knot. This was easier said than done because his hands were drenched in the oily fluid and kept slipping off the rope.
    With much fumbling and cursing, he eventually managed to undo the knot, then enlarge the loop around him. "At last!" he bellowed, and with a sound like someone finishing a drink through a straw, he extricated his legs. One of his boots was left behind, stuck solid in the material. He had to use both hands to tug it out, putting it back on before he scrambled up.
    It was at that point that he realized how much every part of his body hurt -- as if he'd just finished the toughest rugby match of his life, perhaps against a squad of particularly belligerent gorillas. "Ow!" he complained as he rubbed his arms and legs, also finding that there were rope burns around his neck and on his hands. With a loud groan he stretched his back, peering up above to try to make out where he had fallen when the air had been rushing against his face so hard he could hardly breathe, he didn't really remember very much until Bartleby had brought him to by nuzzling his ankle.
    "Where the hell am I?" he said repeatedly, remaining in the trench. He noticed a couple of areas of very dim illumination -- although he didn't know what was causing them, the relief from the darkness made him feel slightly better. And, as his eyes adjusted further, he could vaguely make out the cat's fleeting silhouette as he circled around him like a prowling jaguar.
    "Elliott!" he called. "Are you there, Elliott?"
    He noticed that as he shouted there was a definite echo coming from his left, but nothing at all from his right. He yelled several more times, each time waiting for a response. "Elliott, can you hear me? Will! Hello, Will! Are you there? But no one answered.
    He told himself he couldn't stand there all day, simply shouting. He realized that one of the points of illumination was in fact coming from quite close by and made up his mind to try to reach it. He clawed himself out of his pit. Because he was soaked in the slippery fluid, he didn't risk getting to his feet, but kept on all fours as he moved over the springy surface. He noticed something else as he went: he felt strangely buoyant, as if he was floating in water. Wondering if this was because the knocks to his head had made him a little dizzy, he told himself to concentrate on the job in hand.
    He inched forward with small, deliberate movements, his fingers extended towards the light. Then the light seemed to catch the underside of his outstretched palm -- and he realized it was coming from something embedded deep in the rubbery material. He rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm into the hole to retrieve it.
    "Yuck!" he said as he prized the light out, his arm coated in the