Battleship

SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS

It had taken bloody forever.

The boys had been at it for several days. They had mutually agreed to say nothing of it to anyone, because the moment their parents knew, there were two things of a certainty: they would be told to stay the hell away from it; the authorities would show up and cart it away. When that happened, it meant that the boys would never know what had been in it, and they had far too much time, effort and emotion invested in it to allow that to happen.

So whenever night had been approaching, they had taken care to cover it with branches and brush. It wasn’t the world’s greatest camouflage job, but it was what they could manage and apparently it had gotten the job done, because no one had found it yet.

Fortunately none of the parents had yet noticed that some of their tools had gone missing. This was something of a problem, because sooner or later Sean’s dad was sure to notice that his chain saw was nowhere around. There’d been no point in bringing it back, so Sean had left it where it was: on the ground near the big rock, broken, yet another victim of its seemingly impenetrable surface.

Angus, though, had finally gotten it done. His father’s car had blown yet another tire the previous week (the road around them being notoriously wretched) and, in changing it, his dad had thrown out his back. As a result, his mother had insisted that, if the bastards in the local government couldn’t be bothered to fix the damned roads, and since no one had invented impenetrable tires, the only remaining option was to make tire changing easier.

By serendipity, Angus had been the only one home when the hydraulic car jack had been delivered. He happily signed for it, then called his pals and—within the hour—they were back at the landing point of their secret stash.

The hydraulic jack had been their last resort. They’d wedged it into the seam in the chamber, and at first it had seemed that the jack’s attempts would prove as fruitless as any of the others. But their frustration had turned to utter joy when there was a sharp crack, and a hiss of air. The jack had gotten the job done and, with what was apparently a broken seal, they now had access to it. Angus got to do the honors since he was the one who had obtained the jack, and now he jammed in a crowbar and lifted with all his strength. To his annoyance he wasn’t quite strong enough and, through gritted teeth, he said, “A little help…”

Immediately the others pitched in and, seconds later, they had the lid clear.

They stared inside.

Their joy turned to shock, and then horror.

And then they ran like hell.