Tunnels 02, Deeper

he and Elliott took with them everywhere.
    "Right," Drake said after he'd arranged the cylinders in two groups, each in order of decreasing size, on the sandy bed before them. The boys looked at him expectantly.
    "The time's come for you to learn how to use these." He stood to the side so they could see the array of cylinders in the first group, the biggest a stubby tube with a circumference slightly larger than a section of drainpipe and eight inches in length. "All these... with the red bands around them... are charges. The more bands, the longer the fuse. If you remember, you saw Elliott set a couple of these with trip wires."
    Will opened his mouth to speak but Drake held up a hand to silence him.
    "Before you ask, I'm not going to demonstrate any of the charges here." Drake turned to the other group of items. "But these, as you know," he said, sweeping his hand over a range of smaller tubes, "are called stove guns. This," he said, pointing at the largest one, "is the heavy artillery... a stove mortar. You can see that, unlike the other guns, it doesn't have a trigger mechanism at the base."
    He hoisted up the stove mortar and swung it in front of them.
    "Simple but very effective for taking out a large number of your enemies, by which I mean the Styx. The casing" -- he tapped it with a knuckle and in rang dully -- "is made of iron and is capped at both ends." He patted it as if it were an elongated bongo. "This particular version is fired by striking the end." He took a deep breath. "The load can be whatever you want; rock salt, slate pencils, or pig iron are all very effective if you need to wipe out a large number of targets. A crowd-pleaser ," he said with a wry grin. "Try it for weight, and, whatever you do, don't drop it!"
    In respectful silence, the boys passed it from one to another, holding it carefully as they inspected the heavier end where the detonator was housed. Cal handed it back to Drake, who laid it down on the sand again.
    Then Drake indicated the other cylinders with a wave of his hand. "These are more portable and fired like real guns. They all have mechanical fuses not unlike the cocking arm on a flintlock." He seemed undecided which of the guns to select, and then chose one in the middle of the array. It was almost identical in size to some of the firecrackers Will had set off in the EternalCity, about six inches or so long and an inch in diameter. Its casing shone dully under their combined lanterns.
    Drake turned sideways to demonstrate the correct stance.
    "Like all these weapons, they are single-shot . And watch the recoil -- hold it too close to your eye and you'll regret it. As with the others, they're triggered by a spring lever at the rear. They're fired by pulling the cord." He cleared his throat and regarded them. "So... who wants to have a go?"
    The boys nodded eagerly.
    "Right, I'll fire one first to show you how it's done." He went forward and searched the ground until he found a stone with the approximate dimensions of a matchbox. Then he walked another twenty paces to an outcrop in the middle of the intersection, on which he balanced the rock. Returning, he took a stove gun, not from the display on the sand but from the pad on his hip. The boys gathered by his side, jostling for a view. "Stand a little farther away, will you? Once in a blue moon they backfire."
    "What's that mean?" Will asked.
    "They blow up in your face."
    The warning wasn't lost on the boys, particularly Chester, who edged well away -- so much so that he was almost standing with his back against the tunnel wall. Will and Cal were less cautious, positioning themselves a few feet behind Drake, Cal leaning with both hands on his walking stick and giving the demonstration his full attention. He looked for all the world like an observer at a golf tournament.
    Drake took his time to aim, then fired. To a boy, they flinched as the crack resounded. Thirty feet away, they saw the impact on the rock outcrop and a spray of fragments and dust. The target stone quaked slightly but remained in place.
    "Close enough," Drake said. "These aren't accurate like Elliott's rifle. They're mainly intended for close-quarter use." He turned to Cal. "Now you," he said.
    Cal was slightly hesitant, and Drake had to position him correctly, nudging his front foot forward and pulling his shoulders around so that his stance was correct. Cal was disadvantaged by the fact that his left leg was still a little weak, and the strain of holding