Free The Damned Summer (The Ruin Trilogy) by Scott Weaver

slowly catching his breath, fully aware that if the Cong found him
from either direction, he was dead. It had also occurred to him that this tiny
tunnel could be a dead end, never getting any larger as he slowly crawled
forward, till there was no longer any air left. Instead of being one of
Charlie's tricks, it could be one of Charlie's death traps.
    "Too late to change direction now,
anyway," He said to
himself, feeling better now that he was getting back a little more of his
breath. Jack was truly a freak of nature in this respect, for not only did he
have no fear of death by suffocation, he feared no means of demise down in the
tunnels. If he died, then so be it, no big deal. He'd rather be down here doing
this then be up top, having to listen to all those dip-shits talking about all
the pussy they got back home, how cool of a car they had back home, how much
they missed their wife and kids back home. Hearing that kind of shit was what
really drove him up the wall, listening about shit that didn't have anything to
do with him. Shit that wasn't even real. Not like down here, down here was
where the real was. Whether it was life or death, it was the true thing, not
that fake shit back home.
    It was finally time to start moving again,
and sure enough the tunnel did open back up before he was forced to take
another break. By now, the evil that was following him was right up to his
boots.  
    Jack's steps were slow and deliberate as he
bear-walked through the much wider tunnel, the flashlight in his left hand,
turned off long ago. In mid-step he stopped cold, hearing something.
    Jack's right hand slowly curled towards his
chest, equally near both the .38 revolver in his belt or the switchblade in his
mouth. Whatever it was, near or close, he had the appropriate weapon on the
ready, just waiting for him to use it.
    That was when things changed. Instead of
Jack's certainty of the enemy close by him, needing to be killed, he had a
feeling of kinship to whatever was in the dark, as if a fellow wolf had just
howled a silent greeting to him.
    ”Partners in the darkness," it seemed to whisper in his ear.
    The clarity of the enemy's location came back
into focus for Jack. Six feet right in front of him, crouching, waiting for
him.
    "Together, nothing can
stand against us down here."
    He nodded his head slightly,
taking the knife from his mouth, throwing it hard into the pitch.
    A gurgled choke came from ahead
as his knife sank deep into the Viet Cong's throat. After a few moments, he
moved forward, retrieving his knife.
    Squatting over his kill in the
darkness, he wiped the blood from his new knife on the shirt of the dead Cong
and then put it back between his teeth. After examining the body and finding
nothing of significance, he moved on slowly through the dark, listening
intently. No noise came from the tunnels or his new mystery friend as he made
his way forward.
    Sensing something ahead, he
stopped, waiting for more information to come to his ears or possibly his nose.
After several minutes of nothing, he near silently laid down, leaning up
against the right side of the tunnel. He pulled his pistol out with his right
hand, and lifted his flashlight up with his left, holding it up high above his
body. Stretching his right hand forward, he aimed at the center of the tunnel,
ready to adjust his aim at a moment's notice. He turned his flashlight on for a
fraction of a second and then back off, going more on the imprint the light put
on his pupils than the actual moment of illumination.
    As the glowing image of the ahead
tunnel quickly faded from his eyes, he now knew what it was his senses had
hinted at him. The tunnel was about to fork into two different directions. He
put his revolver back in his belt.
    If someone would have asked Jack
how he sensed the tunnel was about to split, because there was no way he could
have heard or smelled something like that, he wouldn't have had an adequate
answer.
    "It's a tunnel rat
thing," would