Badwater (The Forensic Geology Series) by Toni Dwiggins

Author:Toni Dwiggins [Dwiggins, Toni]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science thriller, environmental, eco thriller, radiation, death valley, climate science, adventure, nuclear
Published: 2013-11-10T07:00:00+00:00

26

We had a new vision, glimpsed in a spilled glass of water.

After dinner we’d returned to Walter’s room and downloaded USGS reports on the leak from the Beatty dump. The hydrologists had been having a cow, as Hap might say.

And then I had to wonder how I could have any idea what Doc Death might say.

I shook that off. Right now, it didn’t matter what Hap did at the nuke plant.

It mattered what Roy Jardine had done with the radwaste.

It mattered whether we could follow the trail he’d left.

I stared at the coffee table I was using as a workbench. Dishes of fender soil lined up, layer one through layer six. Walter and I had built ourselves a new map—patchy, riddled with unconformities. It took us where we’d been two days ago, considering a dozen or so candidates. And there we’d be right now if not for the new vision. It was one part onageristic estimate and three parts hydrology.

And I liked it. Not least because it pared the candidates down to two.

Which one, Brother Roy? Where’d you go? Either way, I’m with you from the get-go. You leave Chickie’s talc mine with your offroader rig and its nasty cargo and at some point you abandon paved road to drive up a fan across a wash into a canyon. You follow that canyon until you pick up layer six, the final layer. Point D, we’re calling it, for destination. And then you do your dirty deed, and then drive back to the talc mine. You make the trip again and again, dozens of times. I can’t say precisely how many because of the patchy nature of the layers. But ultimately, Roy Jardine, you left us a freaking map.

Once we find Point D, we’ll see where we go from there.

There was the sudden clatter, outside, of hard rain. I looked up. More hurricane spinoff? Still, come hell or high water, we’re going into the field tomorrow. We’re going to find your address, pal.

“I read about a mine over in the Tucki Wash,” Walter said. “The story goes that the owners quarreled and shot each other and the skeletons are still there, arms extended.”

“They’re gone now,” Pria said.

I thought she’d fallen asleep—she’d been silent for so long. She was folded into a wicker chair and her head rested on its broad arm but her eyes were open. She met my look and then her black eyes skated back to Walter. We’d found her stationed outside Walter’s room when we returned from dinner and Walter invited her in for a lemonade. Isn’t someone expecting you at home? he’d asked. Nobody’s home, she’d said, and asked if she could stay awhile. He didn’t appear to know how to refuse.

She said, now, in that high girlish voice that seemed too young for her, “Grandfather, you wanna go see where Walter Scott had his hideout up a canyon?”

“You’re talking about Death Valley Scotty?”

“That’s a bad name. His name was Walter, like you. You wanna go?”

“I certainly do,” Walter said, watching the soils settle out in his test tubes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.