Frontier Deck Drain Novels & Stories

Hockey sticks, shadow boxes full of jerseys and pucks, and shelves lined with trophies were hung on the wall. Along the far wall was a large window that had a sliding door to get outside into the backyard. I slid the door open to be met with a patio where a hammock was swinging in the gentle breeze between two posts that supported the deck overhead. I could see the Adirondack chairs circling a fire pit to my left and the pool directly in front of me. Walking past the pool chairs, I walked up to where the hot tub was, its waterfall flowing off one edge into the pool below.

Classic villain mistake: fortify the front, forget the rear. I found a drainage pipe that ran under the fence near the southwest corner. It was half-filled with stagnant water and smelled like something had died in it, but it was big enough to crawl through. I was already covered in blood and gore; a little shit-water wasn't going to make a difference. The pipe opened into an overgrown drainage ditch inside the fence line. I crouched in the shadows, scanning the area. A lone guard stood about fifty yards away, smoking a cigarette and looking bored.

"The drift is hitting the pantry door, Dante. If the frame blocks the hallway, the water won't go out the back." ​"It’s not going out the back," Dante said, his boots grinding into the limestone flags as he waded deeper into the current to clear a floating birch log that was wedging itself between the table and the stove. The silt was cold, numbering his ankles through his leather boots, but he didn't slacken his grip on the iron bar. "The baseline timber is behind the log, Arthur. We have to keep the window open until the ridge drains." ​"The blue truck is under," Lucas’s voice came from the darkness above the landing curve, flat and small but carrying that terrifying adult clarity. "The wh

I follow them sluggishly. I recognize the place, even if the only thing left is large pieces of broken walls and wood and rusted zinc. This is Samantha's house. I can still picture the entrance to her apartment, where she stood to challenge me, and the balcony by the side, which turns more to the back of the building. "Over here, sir." The engineer's voice jolts me back to reality. I turn around and follow them to the back. "We want to make a general draining system for the estate here." He uses white paint to highlight the area beside the fallen structure of the balcony. "We will dig it 6 ft deep and channel it to the city's drain."