Hitch gave the dial one more turn and pulled the pin. He whistled quietly to himself, and wedged the final charge between two boxes marked 'Handgranate' in dirty yellow.
Tic tic tic tic…
'Tully has been on edge all day,' Hitch thought to himself, 'maybe this'll teach him to stop worrying over every mission.' While they had been waiting for their sergeants, Tully had tried to confide his fears in Hitch. Their words came back to him,
"I don't like this, Hitch." The matchstick agitated back and forth, like it was pacing.
Hitch paused his double check of the rucksack and studied his friend.
Tully was leaning on the jeep, arms crossed, scanning the wadi. Unease screamed from every line of his body.
This itself was disquieting to Hitch. Tully was a master of hiding his thoughts, and reading him so openly was rare.
He shoved his glasses higher up his sweaty nose.
"Why? Whaddaya mean?"
Tully shrugged his tense shoulders.
"I don't rightly know, myself. But all morning, I've had this gut feeling. Something's off."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Hitch held his stomach, "Moffitt's a great guy 'n all, but he can't make coffee to save his life." Tully shoved the joke aside,
"Hitch, I'm serious. I can't shake the feeling something's gonna happen."
"Something is gonna happen," Hitch snapped, "we're gonna blow an ammo dump, and finish our mission."
Tully looked like he'd been stung. Hitch broke eye-contact by pretending to root for something in his ruck.
"You don't trust me." The accusation was incredulous, maybe irritated, mostly hurt.
"I trust you, Tully. Not some vague feelings. Where would we be if we listened to that nagging nay-sayer in our head? I can tell you, I wouldn't be in this man's army right now. Much less this outfit, only a crank-case would sign up for a job like this." He grinned, trying to pull his friend up from his dark thoughts.
"You could be right…" Tully rubbed his neck and opened another button in the oppressive heat.
"I know I'm right," Hitch asserted. "But maybe don't tell the sarges. The last thing we need is a couple high-strung NCO's jumping at their own shadows." They laughed at the thought.
Tully wiped the sweat on his brow and sighed.
"I won't promise, Hitch. But if the feeling doesn't get worse I'll put it down to Moffitt's coffee." They laughed again.
Tic…Tic...Tic…
Tully was Hitch's friend, the first real one he'd ever had, but Tully could be such a…such a…warrywart, his grandmum would've said.
After all, what was the use of getting wound up over a simple job like this?
"He'll turn gray before his time." Hitch chuckled to himself and zipped up the rucksack, and walked to the tunnel mouth.
"I'm ready to go, Doc." A sound stopped him cold. A rasping, grating noise from above.
A small rockfall began over the door to the tunnel. Even as he watched, the rocks were falling faster and larger. A splintering moan filled the cave, when the support beams gave up the ghost.
Moffitt was running toward the cave, shouting his name, but Hitch couldn't move. He stayed rooted to the spot, in shock.
"Doc! Don't come any closer!!" He managed to shout before the ceiling collapsed and the walls rushed inwards, like the final curtain.
Before the ceiling had blocked his view, he saw Troy standing, watching from the end of the tunnel. Another figure watched from outside, must've been Tully.
'I didn't think I'd die like this,' was his only thought. There was no panic in it, no fear. Just confusion, and perhaps disappointment.
He stood, watching the dirt and stones that rushed inward at him, unflinching. He began backing toward the boxes of munitions. The chunks of rock were falling around his ears, as the ceiling ripped like a seam. The groan of dry wood filled his ears before something from above struck, and dropped him. A heavy weight pressed on his back and side, shoving the air from his lungs.
His dazed conscious glimmered for an instant,
'I can't die. I promised I'd get out in one piece...' before he collapsed, unconscious.