Breaching the Perimeter

Morning came and my clay bunker was secure. I burst out of the pot and charged down the garden path, kicking wet mulch behind me. At the edge of the lawn stood the massive wooden garden gate, barring access to the wider street. The bottom was sealed by damp soil and a tangled root system. I dropped low and rammed my chainsaw arm right into the packed dirt and tough woody roots. Dirt sprayed across my legs. I sawed and hacked until a clean trench tore wide beneath the lower plank. The gap is carved. I stood over the freshly dug trench, blade coated in rich dark earth, staring into the open alley beyond.