Breaker of Planks

Night rolled in, and an overturned oak pallet was cutting off the perimeter by the fence. Too big to shove aside with bare hands. I didn't care. I jammed the barbed bat under the center crossbeam, wedged my shoulder into the angle, and surged upward. Wood fibers shrieked under pressure. With a brutal snap, the weathered plank tore free, splintering into chunks across the dirt. I kicked the broken slats out of my path and stood on top of the shattered timber. Territory secured.