4:6

The sides of the dusty box were partly crumpled from being shoved under the furnace vents. It was a lucky thing the whole place hadn’t gone up flames years ago, but then again, it was unlikely the furnace had seen much use in the last decade. The old temple had been uninhabited for much of the time, and then the Eco tour people had moved in but kept themselves to the upper floors during the summer months.

It was obvious that the basement hadn’t had many visitors, and the old galvanized gravity furnace was tucked in the back under the lowered floor of the sunken auditorium. Anyone over the age of 12 would have to stoop over to get back there and that, along with the cobwebs and dirt, made it a less than desirable goal for potential explorers.

The box was around behind the furnace, crammed between the dank walls and a large square pipe coming out of the furnace and making a right-angle bend to run into ceiling above. From where the beaver stood, he could barely read the faded labels on the side that declared the box a remnant of the old Gainers meat-packing empire that had dominated the market back in the 70s and completely disappeared from the landscape after a series of violent strikes in the 80s.

It wasn’t sealed; the box lids were simply folded shut, and no great care seemed to have been taken to keep people out. But the beaver knew this box was what he was looking for: it was beyond imagining that it could be anything else.

The beaver sneezed from the dust before he smiled and trundled over on all fours to this tantalizing bit of history.