PROLOGUE
| THERE WAS NOTHING left on the site but the burned-out shell of the old house.
At least that's what the men with the hoses thought. That was all that seemed to be there. But in all of the rubble, hidden beneath fallen wood and concrete and stone, lay a sealed box with its contents, surprisingly, still intact. One of the townspeople lurking around the fire site was rummaging through the wreckage, searching for anything useful. The house, they had been told, had been abandoned a very long time. No one had lived there for years. So no one would care much if anything were taken. The owner of the land didn't care; take anything you want, he'd said, that house is of no use to me anymore. It's all going to be torn down now anyway, like it should have been years ago. Always knew it was a fire hazard. Not a fire hazard. But maybe an arson hazard. The only one who knew this so far was the one townsperson, and he was busy looking for what he'd torched this house for--and soon he found it. A small metal box buried by debris. He pulled it free and brushed some of the soot off, holding it up and looking it over. The lock was still in place. No one had been to it before him. So what should be in there should still be there. He put it under his arm, explaining to passersby that he'd found a nice security box whcih he could use; he'd had need of one since he'd been robbed some time back, and they let him alone. He knew what was in the box. He'd been told by someone who knew; and according to what he'd heard, only three people should really know of what the box contained, and one of them was dead. That left only one other who knew. And he knew how to handle him, once he got the box opened. He felt so lucky that he had been one of the privileged ones to receive this ifnormation. Now he could use it for the greater good. But right now it was down to business. He had to get the box someplace safe and open it up to check if the contents were still intact. He hoped they were. It was true that he could do without them, but they could be a great help if he could get to use them somehow. Blowing on his cold hands, he stepped back to the road, got into his car, and drove away from the place of the black snow. [Note, I have no idea what the hell is supposed to be in that box.] |
CONTINUE
DEPROGRAMMER
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