But in the end, I step outside the tunnel door and for awhile stand outside leaning up against it as I both try to get my bearings and also try to get used to the feeling of being outside.
It has been months and feels so very odd —never mind how oddly I know I am dressed — having to make use of whatever is close to my size among the Cabaret boxes which still lay upon the dungeon’s conveyor belts —which have also been my main source of wearing apparel these last few months—the boxes mostly choices consisting of bizarre animal prints and bold shades of crushed velvet with some lucky finds of snug fitting faux leather jeans with unfortunately too much extra room in the crotch. But luckily, today I found a box of some things from Le chevalier line and managed to make do with a long poet’s shirt —which covers the extra baggage, along with a Louise XIV paisley, damask, silk, burgundy jacket —to pair off with, naturally, combat boots. How completely inconspicuous to be dressed like Steven Tyler in the middle of the Adirondaks but there wasn’t much choice.... needs be—as I had to get out of there, feeling like Howard Hughs after he lost his mind
I mean .... doesn’t this go all the way down the other side of the hill? I think.... deep underground —it’s through the hill— so.... that must mean the barn house would be the direct opposite ....going the other way.... I mean, right....obviously?
Still I hesitate and take a moment to review the email with the map....
still, not quite very clear as it’s confusing to visualize what I look at.... I turn around now to better look at where I just came out of ....
Weird .... it’s almost invisible with the trees and the paint
I walk around a little over the thawing ground and see— what is that?
Oh —the sewage pipe graveyard —not pretty... but effective ....
at least I don’t think those are working ....
but then....I get distracted by a sound. The snap of branches behind me
.... and
I sharply turn to look—and for a moment my heart is pounding until I see a deer leaping through the trees
So for awhile I just wait to calm myself and then step through a soggy thatch of dead, leafy forest bed. I climb up the woody incline now grateful for the combat boots and decide to take a few moments to survey the area around.... until I hear voices
Voices?
Who would be around here ....I wonder— kind of odd
the middle of the woods unless .... well, unless they’re hunters ....and.... no sooner do I think of that that I hear a sudden shot ring loudly through the air like a pop erupting in an echoing explosion
Oh shit!
I bolt back towards where I came from deciding I’d better head back ASAP and start running but .... I don’t see the tunnel entrance now .... in fact, it seems to have disappeared like Brigadoon .... as it is so well hidden.... this is so not cool, I quickly realize as I start to panic ....
and the voices get closer. I can hear the branches snapping as they call to each other in lowered tones. It is awhile before I realize they are speaking in another language —what language? I can’t place it. Maybe Slavic or.... no, I don’t know it....
But then I see someone up the hill dressed in camouflage —and just as I see him he sees me and shouts pointing at me!
Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!
I bolt and start to run — but end up falling down the steep incline, sliding down mud as I hear them shouting and running in my direction! I land, falling with a sudden thud as something hard hits against my shoulder —or rather it is myself that lands against something hard, causing a painful impact....
it is not long before I realize where I have fallen —smack, dab inside the rusted sewage pipe park.... oh god.... but there is consolation in the fact that the pipes are indeed defunct, if not overgrown with wet earth, twigs, spiders and —I suspect rodents by the smell ....and start to heave and gag
“Don’t move!” and from behind I am grabbed, a hand shoved up against my mouth, “don’t breathe, don’t say a word!”
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