The Tunnel Rats [antikvár]

The scorpion's jet-black endoskeleton glistened as it scuttled away from the anvil-shaped rock. It moved quickly, its stinger arched over its back, leaving a trail in the sandy dirt the only record of its passing. The jungle at dusk was usually a noisy place, with birds and insects marking their territory before the final rays of the reddish sun disappeared below the horizon, but for several minutes there had been a heavy silence as if the whole world was holding its breath. A small indentation appeared in the dirt in front of the rock, as if a ghostly finger had scratched the surface. The indentation förmed a straight line and grains of dirt dribbled down into the crease. A second line appeared, eighteen inches away from the first and running parallel to it, then a third line appeared, and a fourth, and the lines slowly grew together until they förmed a rectangle in the dirt. There was a gentle scraping sound from somewhere under the ground, then the rectangle of dirt lifted up. Grains of soil spilled around the sides as the rectangle tilted, revealing a bamboo hatchway into which dry leaves had been intertwined. The hatch was thrown to the side, uncovering a square hole. A soft peaked cap made of camouflage material appeared, and then a face. The face was striped with light and dark green paint and there was no way of knowing where the flesh ended and the cap began. Narrowed eyes scrutinised the surrounding area for several minutes. Only when the man was satisfied that it was safe did he leave the hole,