by J. Rock
6.
He waits a few minutes, just to make sure, then pushes the shutters wide as his sister had moments before. Traylor isn't stupid; he knows Juno has a stash of Forerunner objects up on the roof. After all, it's what he would do if he were tasked with cleaning up the garbage on that beach. The loss of Thomas Whiskeyjack still weighs heavy on his heart, but the pain recedes to a dull throb in the back of his mind as the excitement of finding out what Juno and Jude found yesterday overtakes it. Other than Thomas' death, he'd thought about little else all day.
Traylor climbs onto the window ledge and grasps the eave, swinging his legs up with more grace than Juno had formerly exhibited. He barely makes a sound. He waits another moment to be sure no one sees him, then darts up the sloped roof toward the ancient chimney. He's there is seconds, lifting the wooden panel away. Juno really should be more careful with this stuff, he thinks, clambering into the hole himself. He pulls the blanket away, revealing a trove of stuff he's seen plenty of times before, and one thing he's never seen.
"What is this?" he grumbles to himself in amazement. It looks like a simple box; pure, silvery metal, perfectly made.
"There must be a way to open it."
Traylor reaches out with his right hand and, as his skin makes contact, an electric shock jolts through him like a snakebite. "Ow!" he snarls, pulling his hand up to his mouth. That really hurt! Anger boils within him.
Anger over Thomas' death.
Traylor feels like he's had so little control over his life lately, and here is this stupid box, an inanimate object, taunting him.
"I will get you open," he vows, reaching over to the box again. This time, he wraps the blanket around his hands, picking the object up directly. It vibrates in his grasp, but it can't shock him through the material. "Ha!" Traylor laughs, triumphant. "Now, how do I open–"
But it's too late.
With a flash of skin searing light, the box opens by itself, and Traylor remembers no more.