Read Online A Treasure Deep by Alton Gansky - Free Book Online Page B

you see at the back of the truck is
the drilling rig. The truck backs up to the right spot, erects the
rig, and starts drilling right from the back of the truck. Pretty
neat really.”
    “There’s too much equipment back at the road
for them to
    be looking for water.”
    “I suppose they could be drilling for
something else.”
    Their truck took another bounce, and Anne
swore and rubbed the side of her head where it hit the doorframe.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
    “I’ve always wanted to be mayor.”
    “You’re not in the line of succession, Bob.
Just try to avoid the holes and gullies.”
    “Sorry, but the grass obscures everything,
and I left my X-ray vision back at the office.” Bob turned the
wheel right and directed the truck toward the grove. He slowed as
he approached.
    Anne was looking around like a child in an
amusement park. The drilling rig was not the only vehicle present,
nor was it the only piece of equipment. Two yellow SUVs were parked
to one side of the grove and another truck at the south end. That
truck had a large machine attached to the bed. Bob nodded at it and
said, “Generator.”
    Bob pulled his pickup under one of the trees.
He and Anne exited and took in the situation. There were about
twenty men working in different areas of the meadow. They were
assembling what looked to Anne to be aluminum towers. “Any idea
what they’re doing?” she asked Bob, directing his attention with a
pointed finger.
    He studied the work for a moment then
replied, “Lights. I used them in my construction days. These guys
are planning on working around the clock.”
    “There’re a lot of them.”
    “Lights or people?”
    “Both, but I meant the lights.” Anne noticed
a pattern. “It looks like they’re setting them up in rows.”
    “That’s how I see it. Three banks of lights
in two rows.” Bob pointed to the ground where the different teams
were working. “See those markers? The sticks with the colored
ribbon on them? Those are surveyor marks. Whatever they plan to do,
they plan on doing it between those rows of markers.”
    “Let’s see if we can find someone to talk
to.” Anne started off with determined strides, marching to the
cluster of oaks. Twenty steps later she found herself standing
beneath a plastic canopy. Several plastic tables were standing with
legs propped against the downhill slope. On the tables were
computers and various pieces of electronics she didn’t recognize.
All the tables faced out toward the open field. In the center of
“camp” was a larger table covered with sheets of paper held in
place against the stiffening breeze with rocks and various
travel-mugs. Several paces beyond that was another table upon which
were large plastic containers.
    Anne watched as one of the workmen came in
from the meadow, picked up a paper cup, and filled it from a spout
in one of the containers. He took a long drink then threw the cup
in a dark green trashcan. At least they’re tidy, Anne thought. A
small trailer was parked to one side.
    Redirecting her attention to the table with
the papers, she saw three men huddled over some document and
conversing quietly.
    “They look like a good place to start,” Bob
said.
    Anne agreed and walked to the table. “Excuse
me,” she said. The three men turned their attention to her. One was
young, fresh-faced, and couldn’t be older than a college student.
The next man was tall, trim, and wore wire-rimmed glasses. It was
the third man that caught her attention. Unlike the other two, he
was ebony-skinned and massive. Thickly muscled and intimidating in
appearance, Anne thought he could have a stellar career as a
barroom bouncer. “Excuse me,” she repeated, using her best
professional tone. “I’m looking for the person in charge.”
    The three men looked at each other for a
moment then back to Anne. “In charge of what?” the man in the
glasses asked.
    “In charge of all this.” Anne motioned to the
trucks and