Night Watch in Iron

Stiff breath. Night fell black across the patio brick. Click. Low rasp. The cleared drain hole waited, cold and hollow. I dropped forward on my chest, sliding rigid heels down the damp metal rim. Cold iron casing bit into my plastic ribs. A narrow mesh grate sat three inches down, choked with a flat grey slate pebble. Exposed floor. I dug my heels into the slimy sidewall, hooked curved hands under the pebble's sharp edge, and heaved. Grunt. Blunt scrape! The slate yielded with a hollow clatter, jamming vertical against the rim. Dark pocket secured below. I crouched inside, watching the dark patio.