up (life: 9/?)

It wasn't really a tower. There were no 'real' buildings in the camp. But that didn't make it any better; it was still high.

It used to be a pylon and climbing it used to be a fools errand. Thousands upon thousands of volts would have ridden through the wires -- when there were still wires -- powering all sorts of daily life in the neighbouring town.

Now there was no one in the neighbouring town trying to power anything, nor any juice to to do any powering at all. So climbing the pylon, 'The Tower', was somewhat less dangerous now; The only thing that could kill you was the fall.

#

He tried not to think about it as he climbed up. He wasn't 'afraid' of heights, per se. That's what he told people. And that's what he told himself as he sweated away, rung after rung, in the fading sunlight.

It wasn't even about falling. That old saying: 'It's not that I'm afraid of heights; it's falling from them'. That wasn't his problem. He just didn’t trust himself at heights. It was never about falling, it was about jumping.

He wouldn't have been the first to do it, either. Hell, one guy had killed himself by jumping from this bloody thing in the past month. Another had tried and failed, landing badly but nor mortally. He just wound up a broken burden in the infirmary, taking up what little medicine they had, garnering little sympathy from anyone in the base.

These thoughts circled in his head whenever he climbed. Going around and around with each rung. The sweat coming, his grip going and head spinning. Trying to be quick but not rush… Falling now would be the last thing they needed. Whatever the emergency was, it would be such a stupid way to go.

#

From the top of The Tower you could see everything around you. The vast plains east out toward the river, which the one time he caught it at sunrise, was oddly beautiful with the clouds of dust catching the light just so.

To The West you had the slow incline up to the foot of the mountains, which rose up sharply and blocked off the horizon something spectacular. To The South was the city, which would have, up until a few months ago, been shining like a beacon for people in the plains around. No light had been seen from there in months.

And North… North was where his house used to be.

#

It was a long climb up for something that wasn't a real 'tower' and he avoided it as best he could. He had organised his shifts to avoid it. Which everyone else seemed happy with. ‘The hole’ was probably the least popular out of any of the shifts they had to do, and so this worked out well for everyone.

He wanted to be pissed off when he got up there. Shout a bit. Get out some frustration. He knew there would be a good reason, but he also knew the Lt. knew how much he hated it up there. And he needed to do something other than just look straight down. Shouting always seemed to help with that.

As he got to the top the Lt. pulled him up, but didn't say a word, just gestured out west across the plain.

He couldn't shout. He forgot about the height all together and said, simply:

'How the fuck did they get so close?'