Tunnels Beneath Los Angeles

Excerpt From The Black Echo

     Holding the flashlight off to the right, away from his body, he began to crawl down the passageway. The tunnel was no taller than three and a half feet, top to bottom, and maybe three feet wide. He moved slowly, holding his gun in the same hand he used to crawl with.  There was the smell of cordite in the air, and bluish smoke hung in the beam of the flashlight. Purple Haze, Bosch thought.  He felt himself perspiring freely, from the heat and the fear. Every ten feet he stopped to wipe sweat out of his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He didn't take the jacket off because he didn't want to differ from the description given to the people who would follow him in. He didn't want to be killed by friendly fire.
     The tunnel alternately curved left and then right for fifty yards, causing Bosch to become confused about his direction.  At one point it dipped below a utility pipeline.  And at times he could hear the rumble of traffic, making the tunnel sound like it was breathing. Every thirty feet burned a candle placed in a notch dug into the tunnel wall.  In the sandy, chunky rubble at the bottom of the tunnel he looked for tripwires but found a trail of blood.