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Rotten eggs
They hadn’t gone far when Brody wrinkled his nose. “Dude, this smells like rotten eggs.” Mike inhaled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s sulfur.” Brody pulled his hand back from the tunnel wall, wiping his fingers on his pants. The moisture smelled terrible, almost toxic. “You sure?” “Pretty sure,” Mike said. “It’s common near volcanic rock…or places blasted open with dynamite.” That last word echoed in the tight space.
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