I thought you said it was the size of a swimming pool. This is more like a bathtub.”

“No, I said the other side was the size of a swimming pool.”

Her light penetrated the surface of the water. The small tunnel narrowed and dropped down into blackness.

His stomach tightened up as his eyes followed the light. In every high-stress situation he had ever been in, he had always been able to tamp down any fear or anxiety. This was different. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. Some nagging emotion in the back of his mind had become amplified, worsened, or whatever as he crawled on his belly through those narrowed-down partial cave-ins. He wasn’t claustrophobic. He’d been in tight places before but never felt anything like this. Intellectually, he knew the tons of rock over his head wouldn’t cave in right this second. There was little chance he would be trapped underground forever. None of it made him feel any better.

He knelt and put a finger in the dark water. “Didn’t you say this tunnel was about the same size as what we were in back there?” He flipped his thumb over his shoulder.

“It is about the same size. More or less.”

He glanced up at her. She didn’t try to hide the amused grin or the sympathy on her face.

“Don’t worry. Follow me. My light will show you the way. Find purchase on the rock walls, pull with your hands, and push with your feet. We’ll be on the other side in no time. Relax and let it flow.”

Mike didn’t move, his eyes steady on the still water. “You know, I was a Combat Diver in the Army.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “We locked out of subs at night with scuba equipment and rubber boats in the middle of the ocean. We used rebreathers for long ship-to-shore swims, also at night. We did navigation swims in ice-cold pitch black lakes. You had to keep your eyes on the compass dial and, at the same time, try not to run into submerged tree stumps. But shit, this looks a little iffy.”

“Don’t worry,” She put her palms together. “It looks dangerous, I know, but I’ve already been to the other side. I’ll do everything I can to get you there. Don’t worry. It’s the same thing you have done before, only different.”

The care and confidence she exuded didn’t make him feel any better. He'd do what he had to do. Another thing, he wasn't going to tell her, but this crawling through tunnels was freaking him out. The small pool of water stared back at him, testing his resolve. Julia would make sure he made it to the other side. He nodded. It was no more dangerous than many other things he’d done. It was just a thing. He inhaled and slowly let it out. Just a thing. Time to get it done.

At the edge of the pool, he stuck his hand in the water. It was cold, ice cold. “I’ll be so happy when we’re topside, and people shoot at us again.”

She smiled. “Yeah, me too.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

He watched her wade in from her knees. When the water reached her waist, she looked back at him, took several deep breaths, and ducked her head under the surface.

“Shit.” He moved quickly into the water, not thinking. He took a couple of deep breaths and slid in. The pool was frigid and made him stop for a moment to regain his composure and let his groin and mind catch up. It was stupid cold.

Her feet were inches away, his hands and feet propelling forward as best as they could. The AK in his left hand hindered his mobility, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it go. The flashlight started to get away from him. He doubled his effort, trying not to think about the rock crowding around him. His hands were turning numb, making his grip less sure. Calmness. Be calm, he sent the signal to his brain. Focus on her feet.

She hadn’t disappeared yet. Shoulders, hips, knees, they all hit a little outcropping rock, slowing him down. Her feet were in sight, but now it looked like the tunnel was narrowing.

The rock was crowding around him. Focus on her feet. Keep going.

Julia turned the light around to help him see. She was at the underwater fork in the tunnel. Her body twisted toward the righthand branch. She turned and continued forward. He reached the fork and felt something cold push him into the side of the tunnel. He jerked away from whatever had pushed him, his hand swiping at it. He couldn’t see anything in the limited light. He looked for the flashlight ahead. His eyelids pulled wide open looking. The force pushing him stayed constant. No, it was only the cross current from the other branch. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He’d trained for this, not to panic underwater. He kept moving. Fuck it, focus, and get through the tunnel. The slung rifle wedged itself between two rocks. A quick jerk to get it loose. Nothing. It was stuck tight. He pulled it again. It wouldn’t free itself. His hands were now completely numb. Screw the rifle, he shrugged it off and pushed off, kicking hard and fast. If he had an air tank, he’d be hyperventilating. He strained to keep his composure. He couldn’t see the light. His lungs started to burn. Fear had its fingers around his neck. He tried to stop it. Every time his body hit the side of the dark tunnel, his mind told him the shaft was about to collapse around him. Where was the light? His head moved left and right. He strained to see through the dark water. Upward. A light? He rushed for it, hitting his head on an outcrop in the tunnel. As if paralyzed, his body stopped all motion. His hand reached up and rubbed the top of his head. No time for this. His lungs needed air. Using the hint of light as a beacon, he pushed off with both feet as hard as he could and propelled himself forward.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

His momentum stalled, and his head didn’t crest the surface like he thought it would. He almost took a breath anyway. His hands felt for something to pull on but found nothing. His feet stomped down, looking to push off. There was nothing there. He involuntarily blew out air bubbles. They floated up the flashlight’s beam, giving him a view of his last breath, searching for the surface. His right hand slapped over his mouth to prevent him from breathing. His other arm and legs dog paddled, seeking anything to push off of. The old scuba school saying came to his mind. A breath of water is like no breath at all. Eyes wide, he tried kicking like a frog but went nowhere. A blinding light forced him to pull his head back while something soft pressed into his hand. Whatever it was, he grabbed it with every bit of strength he had left.

Something jerked his arm. He felt himself hauled forward, his mouth getting just above water but not long enough to take a breath. The thing in his hand pulled him again. This time, he was able to get a short breath. Whatever was in his hand had gone limp. His body became rigid until a steady pull on the thing in his hand tugged his head out of the water. Julia was waist deep, dragging him to the shore, a wet something between her hands.

“Stand up, stand up.”

He heard her, but the words didn’t make any sense. All he could think about was why was she wearing a black sports bra. The skin around the bra was Casper the Friendly Ghost white.

His legs kicked down bicycle style until one toe touched rock and sand. The other quickly found a solid surface, and he sprang up. He’d been perpendicular to the ground below.

He stood hip-deep in the cold water, breathing deep, hard breaths, watching Julia. His mind hadn’t and wouldn’t tell him to slow down and relax. The air flowed into and out of his lungs in big chunks.

Julia looked down, ducked under the surface, and emerged with the flashlight. She swung it around until the light hit something floating. Her hand grabbed the floating object. It was her shirt. She put it on. The left sleeve was missing. Lifting his hand, his eyes stared blankly at the missing sleeve. Slowly, his gaze traveled to his white knuckles, his fist in a tight grip, clutching the material of the missing sleeve.

“Where’s the gun?” she said.

He looked up. Plastered to her scalp, her hair clung to her face, water dripping into the pool. There was just enough light to see the goosebumps on her naked arm.

She lightly slapped him on the cheek. “Where’s the gun?”

He didn’t feel the sting; it didn’t hurt, but the slap caused him to stop and shake his head. He wasn’t ready to talk yet. His ragged breathing wouldn't stop. The effort to calm it hadn’t been successful yet.

She took one last look at him and aimed the flashlight into the water. After a few quick inhales, she dropped into the water and out of sight.

He turned to watch the water where she’d disappeared. The only thing he felt semi-confident doing right now was taking slow, deep breaths.

A few moments later, the rifle appeared. She surfaced and stood next to him. Julia took his arm, he didn’t resist while she guided him out of the water. He didn’t have to duck. The ceiling was a couple of inches above his head. He did have to drop his head to the side to avoid one of the hanging electric lights.

His back against the wall, she helped him slide down and sit on the rock floor. She leaned the AK next to him and stood up, eyes on him. The concern in her eyes was steady, but he wasn’t ready to talk to let her know he was okay. She didn’t ask. She waited for him. He had the impression she’d seen this type of thing before.

It had felt like the tunnel walls had tried to crush and drown him into a cold, watery grave.

His hand cramped up. Fingers were wrapped around her shirt sleeve, and he had to pry them off individually. He offered the shirt sleeve to her.

“Thanks, I was looking for that.” She smiled and sat opposite him. “Now, all I need is a needle and thread.”

He patted his shirt pockets, shrugged, and lifted his hand's palms up.

She smiled. “Whenever you're ready, take your time.”

He grimaced back. “Thanks.” He took in several more long, slow breaths. “I’ve done.” He coughed a sputtering noise. “I’ve done a lot of stupid, dangerous shit in my day, but that was the worst.” His finger and thumb pushed together. “I was this close to losing it in there.” He shook his head minutely. “And I don’t lose it. I get busy.”

“Oh, you were busy, alright.”

“Every other time I’ve been in a dangerous situation, it always felt like there was a level of control. There was something I could do to push the outcome in my favor.” But submerged in the black, running out of options, the edge of panic trying to force its way in with only two alternatives, pass out and breathe in the cold or give up and fill his lungs with water and knowing there’s only one conclusion.

Julia nodded. She didn’t need him to explain. She knew.

He shifted his back against the tunnel wall and kept talking. “I’ve trained myself not to get all emotional or all freaky geeky during dangerous, intense situations. It limits my effectiveness. The stuff I’ve seen and done would make most people run away crying. What happened there,” his chin tilted up toward the water, “that’s saying something.”

“I wish I had some tissue.”

He could help himself. He laughed out loud. “Fuck you.” His laughter was infectious. She joined in, but the humor faded faster than it had started.

Time to get serious. Time to find out where they were. “Enough levity. It’s time to get moving.”

She nodded and stood.

He put his hand out, and she grabbed it to help him up. He didn’t let go. He squeezed her hand, and she pressed back. Dropping his hand, he took the AK-47 from the wall, dropped the magazine, shook the water out, and handed it to Julia. He pulled the charging lever back and jacked the round out of the chamber. With the barrel pointed down, he shook the water out of it. Satisfied, he took the magazine, placed it in the magazine well, and loaded the weapon. One round in the chamber. It was ready to fire.

“There we go,” The corners of his lips lifted. “Good as new.” Standing up straight, his chest and arms muscles tensed, then released. One hand on the wooden stock, the other on the pistol grip, he said, “I’ll take point now.”

“Full recovery, huh?”

“Yep, I’ll push that little incident way deep, so it only comes up in my nightmares.”

“That’s the spirit.” She slapped his shoulder. “Spoken like a real man’s man.”

“It works, most of the time.”

“Shocker.” She smiled

He returned it. “Two things.”

“Yes.”

“First, thanks.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Thank you for saying so, and you’re welcome.” She squinted, ready for the second thing. “And the second?”

“Remind me never to go spelunking with you again.”

“That’s right. Down here, you’re in my world.”

He wanted to return with a witty remark, but she was right.