They returned the metal detectors and entered the complex lands. This Clairsboro power station was deserted, closed down eleven years ago. These generators had been sold for waste. These stacks, large chimneys that held flue fuel from the coal-fired furnaces, had been sealed to keep weather harm. They even soared over the town, impotent towers of construction and metal. When she was thirteen years old this complex was still working, the permanent fixture of her time. Environmentalists split in one night and scaled the pot. They hung the flag, a large bone and crossbones, four hundred feet in the air. Madison had been amazed, so furious. Her dad had simply laughed.