Published by Scott Roche at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Scott Roche
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Cover art courtesy of Dan Absalonson
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Shells whistled in the grim distance growing ever closer as Will Thompson ran down the trench for cover. All of his mates had bought it and it was just him for miles in either direction as far as he knew. Sappers had found a network of caves when they built these particular fortifications. You couldn’t go very far back into them before they petered out, but they were solid.
He slid down the ladder which canted at a forty-five degree angle into the darkness. Only an oil lamp beat back the foul dark of the caves, but it was better than waiting in the rain for death to come. He took the bucket off his head revealing close shorn blond hair. The grinding of the hand cranked radio filled the emptiness as he tried to raise someone.