Scratchgravel Road A Mystery

TWENTY-ONE



Cassidy stood in front of her living room window and peeked through the curtains. She watched Leo back out of the driveway and drive toward town, where he was headed to pick up groceries. Cassidy had convinced him she had a headache and felt too sick to run errands. Begrudgingly, he had left.

Cassidy figured she had twenty minutes. She sat at the kitchen table where Leo kept his laptop set up, where he conducted his research for the Feed Plant. She had stood behind him while she was making dinner on two different occasions and was able to figure out his login and password to unlock the computer, and to connect to the Internet. Cassidy had shown no interest in computers or the Internet, and she was hoping she could use this to her advantage. She was hoping once she logged in to his computer, the information wouldn’t be protected or hidden.

First, she logged in to his e-mail account and read everything for the past two weeks, both sent and received. She found nothing that connected to the body or Scratchgravel Road. In order to cover her tracks, she marked the new e-mail she had just opened as unread, and then closed the program. She had no idea if he would be able to tell that she had opened his e-mail, but she couldn’t worry about it at this point.

Next, she opened Internet Explorer and checked his bookmarked sites. She clicked through several Web sites and found horrific pictures of radiation poisoning and chemical burns. She could barely force herself to look at the pictures, worrying that Leo might have killed the man in the desert in the same way the people in the pictures had been killed.

Since the evening she had come home from the hospital and threatened to move out, Leo had changed. He had been talking to her more, helped her cook dinner the night before, actually acted interested in what she had to say. But his attempts were too little, too late. She thought it was all an act. He was spending countless hours on the computer each day, and she suspected it was related to the dead man.

Cassidy was scrolling through his list of “Favorites” and saw a link to First Bank and Trust—not their bank. She clicked on the link and a login appeared with Leo’s name preloaded. As far as she knew, they only had one account, with Bank of America, where both their checks were automatically deposited. She typed in the same password that she had used to log in to his computer and was taken to an account page. A few clicks later and she discovered Leo had made a deposit the day before in the amount of $1,200. She leaned back in the chair, staring at the computer screen, with no idea how to move forward.

* * *

Mitch Wilson entered the conference room thirty minutes after his conversation on the phone with Josie. He was wearing a grease-stained navy blue mechanic’s shirt and pants. With his shaggy black hair, tattooed arms, and deep southern drawl, he seemed more Hell’s Angel than ordnance specialist, but Josie felt confident in his abilities. She hoped the group from Beacon wouldn’t judge his skills by his appearance.

She introduced him to the group, and he apologized for his uniform.

“Had my head under the hood of a plow. Trying to keep those old machines on the road in this kind of mess is a never-ending problem,” he said.

“Please don’t apologize. We appreciate you coming on such short notice,” Paiva said. “I understand you worked as an EOD for the army?”

He nodded slowly. “Trained at Fort Lee. Served six years.”

“I served as an engineer in the army for twenty years. My experience led me here.”

Mitch nodded.

“I believe Chief Gray gave you a rundown on our situation. If the rain keeps up, we’re facing the potential of a mudslide in a matter of hours. And that’s just a guess. We don’t have time for options. Diverting the flow is the best idea we’ve got right now.”

“Makes good sense to me.”

“Are you experienced in laying and detonating explosives?”

“Take ’em apart, put ’em together, blow ’em up.” He grinned. “You name it, I can do it.”

Diego laughed. “It’s good to see your confidence. I’m afraid we’re well out of our comfort zone here.”

“C-4 explosives?” Mitch asked.

Diego nodded.

“You have enough det cord, blasting caps, and so on?”

“We’ve got everything you need. One of our engineers will get you set up,” Diego said.

“Excellent. Let’s do this.”

Paiva nodded, and Josie could see the relief in his expression.

“We’re ready to pull officers in from several different agencies. They’re waiting in the lobby. I’ll just ask that you listen to the briefing so you’re brought up to speed. Then we’ll start making plans.” He stood and placed two keys on the conference table in front of Josie. “For you and Otto to get in and out. Please return them at the end of the day. I’ve got to make a phone call to headquarters in Boston, and return a call to the NRC. Can you get the group organized in my absence?”

Josie nodded. “I’ll be glad to.”

Sylvia left the room and came back moments later, escorting a large group of officers. Smokey Blessings, three Texas Highway Patrol officers, and four agents from the Department of Transportation took chairs around the table. It was a quiet, grim-faced group of men.

“On behalf of Mr. Paiva, I want to thank you all for coming. Mr. Paiva is on a call with the NRC, so I’ll get introductions started.” Josie went on to introduce herself and Otto as well as Sylvia and the engineers. She then asked each officer to introduce himself and describe his position. She knew one of them, Aaron Crowe, a well-respected officer who lived halfway between Marfa and Artemis. The DOT officers were all associated with West Texas, and they were all familiar with the weather conditions and mudslides that were an occasional threat. Aside from one DOT officer who described himself as a “take-charge man,” Josie thought they all appeared levelheaded and ready to jump in where needed.

Josie went on to summarize the notes Sylvia had posted on the projection screen. She had taken several questions when Diego entered the room and returned to his seat. He nodded to Josie and thanked her for stepping in.

Diego spent the next ten minutes efficiently describing the situation and explaining the various risks to the plant. When he’d finished his summary he directed their attention to the projector screen, which was showing a still image of the plant and the surrounding mountain range. “I want to give you a clear visual of what we’re dealing with.” He pointed to a rectangular area dotted with buildings and said, “This is obviously the plant. The range runs along the sides of the plant. The largest amount of runoff comes down this eastern slope.” He ran a finger along the eastern ridge where a V appeared to have been cut into the mountain. “This is a natural valley where rain has eroded the rock and formed an arroyo that captures runoff, and, in the past, has funneled excess rain and floodwaters a half mile to the east of the plant. To date, the plant has never faced a serious flooding issue due to the natural contours of the land.” He pointed to the highest point on the ridge, to the west of the valley. It was a jagged outcropping of rocks that stood precariously at the top of the ridge. “This peak is what’s causing us concern. We’ve been watching this area for years, but the erosion has been minimal. Until now.”

Sandy said, “This has always been a stable range, but the rain this season has eroded it to the point we fear it will collapse. If that happens, the runoff will be significant, and we fear it will change course. Instead of following the arroyo, the water and the potential mudslide could funnel directly through the plant, hitting the barrels in the back parking lot first.”

The sober-looking group of law enforcement officers said nothing as they processed the information and Diego continued. “One of our engineers is filming for us.” He paused and took a sip out of the water glass in front of him. Josie noticed beads of sweat along his hairline, the only visible sign of nerves.

“We’ll be able to listen in and get a good look at the current flooding,” Diego said. “From where he’s flying, it’s almost two miles to the back lot where the metal barrels are stored. The two concrete silos are located in the back of the plant as well.”

One of the highway patrol officers asked, “What’s inside the silos?”

“They store radioactive waste materials.”

“And what if one of the silos is compromised?”

“Then the ground around the plant would be contaminated,” Diego said.

He turned to face Sylvia. “Do we have a live feed from the helicopter set up yet?”

Sylvia nodded and the still image was replaced with a live image of the mountain range being filmed during a downpour. As the helicopter flew in closer to the mountain, large fractures among the jagged boulders at the top of the peak became visible. Diego ran his finger down the length of the mountain. “This area below the peak is highly erodible, and the water has begun to funnel into this location from several areas on the mountain, dragging debris with it.”

Sandy walked back into the room and sat down by the phone at the end of the table. She said, “The pilot is on the line. I’ll place him on speaker so we can all hear his report.”

She looked at Diego, who nodded that he was ready.

“Michael?”

“I’m here.”

“Can you zoom in to the area that’s washing? Get up by the peak if you can. That’s where we’re most concerned.” She addressed the group again. “If we can make it through this rain without that area of the mountain giving way we’ll be fine. If it breaks loose we’ve got a real mess.”

Suddenly the view of the mountain tilted right and Josie felt as if the bottom fell out of the room. The pilot banked a hard right and circled around the mountain.

“I’m going to take you to the front of the peak so you can see the water coming down. It’s really flowing right now. More rock has broken loose since I was up here this morning.”

The picture on the screen enlarged, the mountain coming at them quickly as the pilot continued to describe the scene. Suddenly the rocks on the mountain came into focus, and Josie could see water rushing down at an alarming rate. The water was devouring the side of the mountain, washing away large chunks like sand. As the pilot flew down the slope it became obvious that other streams were being funneled toward the same path that converged on the valley floor.

Diego asked the pilot to pull the shot back and get a picture of the stream that was draining in the direction of the plant. “We’ve successfully diverted this water to the left of the plant. However, if we get a significant mudslide, the diversion won’t hold. We’ve been using concrete barriers in key places, but it’s just not enough.”

“It wouldn’t be enough to reinforce with additional barricades? Stretch it from the mountain down past the plant?” one of the officers asked.

“Mudslides have the ability to wipe out entire neighborhoods in a matter of minutes. There’s enough of a grade from the mountain to the plant that it could produce significant speed.” Diego pointed back to the screen. “You can see the lay of the land. See how the water funnels straight down that mountain, through the sandy stretch in the desert, and toward the plant? Those barriers are okay with the water, but if we lose a significant piece of that mountain, and pick up sand and mud from the foothills, the mud could flow heavily.”

Sandy nodded toward Mitch, who had been listening intently. “This is where Mitch comes into play. We’d like to lay a line of explosives that will blow a trench to divert the water flow from reaching the plant.”

One of the DOT officers asked, “Why hasn’t something been done before now to prevent this?”

“That wash wasn’t there before the peak started to crumble. This is all new erosion,” Diego said. He paused for a moment and steepled his fingers in front of his chest, gathering all eyes on him. “I’ll make one request of the group. After this incident is finished, you have my word, I will review the entire operation: what worked, what didn’t, what should have been done and wasn’t. For today though, I would request we focus on the events at hand. We don’t have the time to point fingers. Today, we work as a team to figure out answers.” He looked around the room and received head nods from everyone.

Diego cleared his throat. “We have a team setting up a decontamination area. They are consulting with FEMA as we speak. We’re approaching this proactively. God forbid, if part of the plant is taken out by the mudslide, if radiation is released into the environment, we’re prepared to handle the aftermath.”

Josie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. A table filled with first responders, people trained to handle crisis, and they were all speechless, imagining their own nuclear nightmares.

“We’re at the unfortunate point of weighing our odds.” Diego looked at Sandy, who was not able to meet his eyes before he stood to break the room into working groups. Prepared or not, it was time to move.