Tunnels

"It would have to happen now… just when I've found something so amazing," he muttered to himself. He longed to speak to Dr. Burrows, to tell him about the Pits tu

As he tiptoed downstairs, Will had the oddest feeling of being an intruder in his own home. He glanced at the living room door. It was still closed. Mum must have slept in there, he thought as he went into the kitchen. On the table was a single bowl; from the few remaining Rice Krispies clinging to it, he could tell that his sister had already had her breakfast and left for school. The fact that she hadn't cleaned up after herself, and the absence of his father's cornflakes bowl and teacup on the table or in the sink, caused vague alarm bells to ring in his head. This frozen snapshot of everyday activity had become the clue to a mystery, like the little pieces of evidence at a crime scene, which, if read in the right way, would give him the answer to what exactly was going on.

But it was no good. He could find no answers here, and he realized he had to be on his way.

"This is like a bad dream," he grumbled to himself as he hastily poured his Wheaties into a bowl. "Total cave-in," he added, glumly crunching on the cereal.

10

Chester lounged in one of the two broken-down armchairs in the main chamber of the Forty Pits tu

Will was long overdue, and as Chester threw the little projectiles he wondered what could have possibly gotten in the way of his friend's arrival. This alone wasn't of great concern, but he was anxious to tell Will what he'd discovered when he had first entered the excavation site.

When Will finally appeared, he was walking at a snail's pace down the incline of the entrance tu

"Hi, Will," Chester said brightly as he lobbed a whole handful of the clay balls at the defiant bottle. All of them predictably failed to hit the mark. There was a moment of disappointment before Chester turned to Will for a response. But Will merely grunted, and when he did look up, Chester was disturbed by the marked lack of sparkle in his friend's eyes. Chester had noticed something wasn't right over the past couple of days at school — Will seemed to be avoiding him, and when Chester had caught up with him, he had been withdrawn and uncommunicative.

An uneasy silence grew between them in the chamber until Chester, unable to stand it any longer, blurted out, "There's a block—"

"My dad's gone," Will cut him off.

"What?"

"He locked himself in the cellar, but now we think he's gone."

Suddenly, it became clear to Chester why his friend's behavior had been odder than usual. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. He had absolutely no idea what to say.

As if exhausted, Will slumped down in the other armchair.

"When did this happen?" Chester asked awkwardly.

"Couple of days ago — he had some sort of fight with Mum."

"What does she think?"

"Hah, nothing! She hasn't said a word to us since he went," Will answered.

Chester glanced at the tu

"What's that?" Will said quietly.

"The tu

"What?" Will said. In a flash, he became animated again. He sprang out of the armchair and dashed into the mouth of the tu

"I don't believe it." Will stared helplessly at the tightly packed barrier of soil and stone that reached right up to the roof of the tu

"Weird."

"What is?" Chester asked.

Will held the dirt up to his nose and sniffed it deeply. Then, taking a pinch of the soil, he discarded the rest of it. He continued to rub it slowly between his fingertips for several seconds and then turned to Chester with a frown.

"What's up, Will?"

"The props farther into the tu

"No, I don't think so," Chester replied.

"No, and this dirt doesn't feel nearly damp enough to cause the roof to slip in — there's no more moisture than you'd expect. But the weirdest thing is all this." He reached down, plucked out a chunk of stone from the pile, and tossed it over to Chester, who caught it and examined it with a bewildered expression.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What's important about this?"

"It's limestone. This infill has bits of limestone in it. Feel the surface of the rock. It's chalky — totally the wrong texture for sandstone. That's particulate."

"Particulate?" Chester asked.

"Yes, much more grainy. Hang on, let me check to make sure I'm right," Will said as he produced his penknife and, folding out the largest blade, used it to pick at the clean face of another piece of the rock, talking the whole time. "You see, they're both sedimentary rocks, and they look pretty much the same. Sometimes it's quite hard to tell the difference. The tests you can use are to dropacid on it — it makes limestone fizz — or look at it with a magnifying glass to see the coarser quartz grains you only get in sandstone. But this is the best method by far. Here we go," Will a

"What are you doing, Will?"

"Mmmm," Will replied thoughtfully, still grinding it. "Yes, I'm pretty sure this is limestone… You see, it breaks down into a smooth paste… If it was sandstone, it'd be crunchier, and even squeak a little as I bit it."

Chester winced as he heard the sounds coming from his friend's mouth. "Are you serious? Doesn't that crack your teeth?"

"Hasn't yet." Will gri

"No, I'm fine, really," Chester replied without a moment's hesitation. "Thanks anyway."

Will waved his hand in the direction of the roof over the cave-in. "I don't believe there'd be a deposit — an isolated pocket of limestone — anywhere near here. I know the geology of this area pretty well."

"So what are you getting at?" Chester asked with a frown. "Someone came down here and blocked up the tu

"Yes… no… oh, I don't know," Will said, kicking the edge of the huge heap in frustration. "All I do know is that there's something very fu

"It might've been one of the gangs. Could it be the Clan?" Chester suggested, adding, "Or maybe even the Click?"