Most of us long to "Be" but when the path gets too costly, or steep, we take solace in what we "Have." Remove the trappings of what we own and then what is the sum of us?
They were the survivors, abandoned by the allies who swore to protect, in...
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The three men had spent the entirety of the previous day attempting to gain entry into the vents and tunnels that burrowed below. Obviously being a military installation, there would be no ease of access, and even some years later after the inevitable decrepitude and decay the silo seemed shut off from the outside world.
Gareth had returned to scour the ruins of Wentworth for perhaps some objects that may be employed to further facilitate exploration of the site. The green plastic card that Warren had so long coveted did neither man little good, any computer or active intelligence that survived in this installation had become dormant years before.
The newly purloined crowbar also did little, though it was solid and strong, and both Gareth and Dwayne gave their all to only find the slightest indention at the edge of the sealed metal aperture. It was at best disheartening.
The inked man had also brought a coil of rope he had discovered in the ruins, with the hope that there would be some chance of dislodging some of the screening in the air shafts, and perhaps a descent could be made. Though both men debated the folly of this as the rope did seem perished and brittle.
Warren watched mostly helplessly from the sidelines, though his mind was far from still. He was indeed wracking his brains to remember the entire layout of the facility, so perhaps some better method of entry would be found. To descend on unreliable rope really didn't seem an option to him, at all.
Warren was afraid if some other entrance was not found and soon, that Gareth would indeed send the lightest and most dispensable man down that ventilation shaft, and there were no prizes to guess who that man would be.
The axe also did nothing, and after swinging it many times with a loud crack on the steel, the handle finally broke sending the iron blade flying and men ducking in all directions.
"I don't know." Gareth said in exasperation as the tossed the shattered handle aside.
They sat then for a while, neither man said one word. The horses milled about and grazed as best they could on the tough sticks and remaining forage to be found here. Though Warren was not an equestrian by any stretch of the imagination he found the sound of the rhythmic horses munching comforting.
Finally, Gareth spoke. "There must be more entrances to something of this size than just the one here. Is this not a hatch to launch a missile from?" He looked across at Warren beneath his hooded brow. The man reminded Warren very much of a Neanderthal, his build, his mannerisms. Though he would never have dared mention it.
"You would be correct." Warren admitted slowly, afraid as always where this may lead. "Though this is defiantly the door I used to access to the elevator on my way in every shift."
"Well you must have got out somehow." Gareth all but snarled.
"Well...yes I...I did. Through here." Warren stammered. "I left before there was all this trouble."
"The night the bombs struck, you were not here?"
"I was in Wentworth."
"You worked here, why were you not called?"
"I...I."
"Just tell me." Gareth breathed into Warren's face. The thin man cringed, looking down at the clawed hold the rough man had on his shirt. The scant fabric was ever so slowly tearing as he tried to choke out his words.
"I was not anyone important. Honestly, I didn't have access to the whole place... I had a low level security clearance, I did office and audits, and I was on an audit."
"A fucking what!"
Warren jumped in Gareth's secure grasp. Swiftly replying in a shaken voice. "Audits are kind of tedious and boring, we go all about this place and audit things accounting them for the Government, even things like that rusted old tank over there though it's really of no use to anyone. I know it sounds weird and silly but it's what I did."
Gareth pushed the man hard, and Warren fell backward onto the sand and lay there staring up at his dark-eyed and tattooed tormentor.
Dwayne looked on impassively his long black hair catching the wind. "You fucking lied." Gareth hissed.
"No...no...not at all."
"SHUT UP!" Gareth screamed. It was taking him all his control not to just kill the blundering fool right here and now.
