A YEAR UNDERFOOT – entry #42

A Year Underfoot



August 27th, 2033

Big day today.

I left the Crane family with Bagman and went out scouting the rolling foothills east of the camp. Four miles east of where we’d been hiding I ran across a well-worn gravel road and spotted signs pointing to a nearby rock quarry. It lay two miles down the way and I wasted no time in getting there.

I was not disappointed when I arrived.

Excavators and trucks littered the open pit and I ran down out of the hills and crossed the crushed gravel parking lot to where a pair of temporary office trailers sat side by side.

I kicked open the door of the first trailer and was elated to find that I was the first one to visit this hidden gem.

Inside the single-wide office, I scooped up a bottle of Johnny Walker Black from inside of a file cabinet and stuffed it in my back pack. I rifled through the desk draws and came across a set of keys. I dangled them out in front of me.

What if?

I went to the second trailer and tried the set of keys. The second one did the trick and I swung open the door to find that I’d struck pay dirt. The trailer was being used as a supply shed and, lying prominently in the corner, a very large blast box.

Please, let it be.

I flicked on my flashlight and got a better look at the thick gray safe. And, staring back at me, – a large triangle shaped sticker labeled hazardous and explosive. I was halfway to pay dirt.

If only…

I fumbled with the keys and found the odd shaped one that fit the box. I turned the key in the tumbler and the door sprung open.

Slowly, I opened her up.

Dynamite! Twenty sticks of high-grade explosives staring me in the face! Unbelievable!

My eyes dropped to the bottom shelf and I really got excited. C-4 plastic explosives! Well, hello, what are you doing here?

I tore the place apart looking for the blasting caps and after a second pass through the trailer I found a box of two dozen.

Wait until Bagman gets a load of this!



About paul nevins

Fiction writer, reader and baseball fan.
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