Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent (21 page)

“Can we hijack the juice?” Nick asked.

“I’m not sure,” replied Clancy while shaking his head. “These were installed after I was out of the business. This article says this Sandy Hill facility was integrated into the West Texas regional distribution system, but I’ve no idea how that entire complex worked.”

“What would you need to know or see? Is there a control station or something that you could look at to
determine how it’s all wired?”

The retired engineer thought about the question for a few moments before answering. “
Yes, I suppose there would be . . . would have to be. I can’t tell you where it’s located though. With all of the terrorist threats against our infrastructure in those days, the power companies didn’t make a lot of things known to the public.”

Nick thought about that answer for a bit. “If I were to take you to those windmills, could you tell from there?”

“Oh, no, no. The only thing at that location would be rectifying and control equipment. They would need to control the current before it went to the transmission lines.”

“Where would the transmission lines lead?”

“To a controlling substation, in all likelihood. That’s what I would need to see in order to answer your questions.”

Nick looked at Diana, both of them a little disappointed. Still, Nick was determined to see his idea through. “If I were to take you to the wind
farm, could we trace the lines to the control station?”

The retired engineer answered almost immediately
. “Yes, these pictures show above ground high tension lines. They would be easy to trace, but those lines could run for a considerable distance. There’s no way to tell how far—could be over a hundred miles or more.”

“So you’re saying at the end of those high tension lines will be a control station
? If I find the control station and take you there, what do you think the chances are that we can divert the energy to Alpha?”

“Oh, Nick, there’s no way I can hazard a guess. The technology was changing so rapidly when I left the industry. If you get me to that control station, I’ll be able to tell you pretty quickly though.”

Nick and Diana paced back to the church compound in silence, each trying to determine whether to be disappointed or not. As they reached the building’s steps, Nick was the first to speak. “Diana, we’ve got to try. I know the effort will use valuable resources, but we’ve got to try.”

Diana sighed.
“Nick, it’s not the resources I’m worried about. It’s you off on some wild goose chase, traveling through a very dangerous countryside. Who knows where those lines will lead and what condition the territory will be in? I’ve listened closely to what you told me about your experiences along I-10. We both know what was going on here in Alpha. It’s a crazy world out there, and I can’t stand to lose anyone else I care about right now.”

Her statement caused Nick to think of
his son. Still, electrical power could save a lot of lives.

Nick finally decided he needed more information. “I need to talk to someone who knows that area. I need someone with local knowledge.”

Diana smiled, “How about Bishop? Didn’t he grow up around here?”

“Now that’s a good idea. I wonder if his lazy butt is up yet.”

“Terri said he’s been running a lot lately. They’re sleeping at the Higgins place. Go find out.”

“You want me to do what?” Bishop asked, not quite understanding Nick’s request.

“I want you to help me trace some power lines. We have to find this power control station thing . . . and the only way is to track these lines from their source.”

Bishop scratched his head, “My friend, I’ll help you with anything you need
, but I still don’t get it.”

Nick showed Bishop the magazine containing the information on the windmills. Bishop read the article without comment, eventually handing back the journal. “That’s some rough territory down that way. I use
d to hunt around Sandy Hill as a teenager. I find it a little difficult to believe they did a major construction project in that area.”

“Can you drive your truck around there?”

“No way,” Bishop answered, shaking his head. “That whole region is full of cliffs, steep-sided gullies, and hills. There’s not much vegetation. You couldn’t even get around with a dirt bike or a horse. Unless they’ve built roads, that’s some serious hiking, climbing and humping.”

Nick sighed. “They had to have gotten heavy equipment in there somehow. They didn’t airlift in those huge blades—some of them are over 100 feet long.”

“Access to Sandy Hill proper wouldn’t be that difficult with some large earth movers and plenty of money. They probably built a road to the top of the mesa and hauled the blades and generators up via trucks. It’s the area all around the actual mesa that is so nasty. I don’t know how they would have set up towers or laid the cables to carry the electricity.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. You up for a field trip?”

“Sure enough, Nick. You want to leave in the morning?”

“What about Terri
? You think she’ll be okay staying here in town?”

Bishop rubbed his chin for a minute, and then
responded, “I don’t think anyone knows we’re here. She and Diana can take care of themselves pretty well. Kevin is pretty tough, too.”

“Let’s do it.”

“Let’s do what?” sounded Terri’s voice from down the hall. She approached the two men with her arms crossed and a look of skepticism covering her face. “I get really, really nervous when I see you two plotting quietly in the shadows. This can’t be good.”

“Nick wants to see me do my world famous Don Quixote imitation, honey. He wants to see me chase windmills.”

West Texas

December 28, 2015

The drive from Alpha was uneventful, but Bishop hadn’t really expected any trouble. After leaving the confines of the small town, he and Nick had journeyed through one of the least populated regions in North America, a constant eye-diet of desolate West Texas desert passing by the truck’s windows.

The route passed by Bishop’s ranch, and the duo decided it best if they upgraded their firepower in the unlikely event there was any trouble. “We’re going to be in some pretty wide open spaces,” Bishop had informed his friend. “I’d like to change out to the .308 so I can do some long distance dialing, if need be.”

Nick grunted, recalling the old television commercial. “Reach out and touch someone, eh?”

Bishop pulled off the
two-lane highway into what appeared to be random, open desert and stopped. “Hang on a sec; I’ve got to tie on the drag.”

Nick watched fascinated as Bishop walked over to what appeared to be a random pile of dead branches and vegetation. Pulling a short rope from the bed of the truck, Bishop attached the brush heap to the trailer hitch and then drove slowly across the hardpan desert floor.

After a few hundred yards, well out of sight from the road behind, Bishop stopped again and unhooked the load. Nick got out and investigated their trail, amazed to find no evidence of their passing.

“I had to play with the weight for a while to get it right. It doesn’t work if it has rained and the soil is moist, but as you can see, we don’t have a lot of wet days around here.”

Scanning the surrounding terrain, Nick had to agree.

Smiling at his friend, Bishop
reiterated, “Always cover your tracks.”

Nick just shook his head, “Always.”

They continued driving through a seemingly featureless landscape of short ridges, erosion-walled valleys, and massive rock fields accented with the occasional small boulder. There was very little vegetation; a few variety of cactus and patches of chest-high scrub oak dotted the earth. Mostly it was barren, hard-packed sand.

“How often do you have to mow the grass
out here?” Nick asked.

“Oh, I don’t worry about that—I hired a yard crew for the landscaping duties.”

Bishop maneuvered the truck into what appeared to be a slot canyon, the floor of its valley littered with larger random rock formations. There didn’t look to be any path wide enough for the truck to pass through. Bishop stopped and said, “I’ve got to get out and disable the tripwires. Given I’ve had visitors lately, I think it wise to scout ahead—just in case someone is waiting for me to come home.”

“Home?” Nick questioned, looking from one side of the canyon to the other. “This is home? Do you live under a rock?”

Bishop laughed, “In a way, yes. Why don’t you drive while I scout ahead on foot? Just follow me, and you’ll be fine.”

Bishop climbed out of the cab and proceeded to make safe the multiple tripwires lining the canyon. Nick followed, nervous as he crept through gaps of sharp granite that missed the truck’s side mirrors by inches.

After a hundred yards of weaving between slabs of sandstone and bus-sized boulders, the obstacles began to thin out, and driving became easier in the open floor of the canyon. Nick looked up the gradual incline and noticed the camper for the first time.

Walking in front, Bishop indicated Nick should park and join him. The two men worked together in an effort to verify no one was lurking in ambush around Bishop’s place. After clearing the area, Bishop motioned Nick to the
Bat Cave and unlocked the heavy steel door.

Nick stood in the entrance of the rock room, scanning both the natural formations and Bishop’s collection of hardware. “Well, the name is appropriate, Caped Crusader. Can I be Robin?”

Bishop laughed and moved to his rifle rack. It took a few minutes to switch weapons, ammo pouches and magazines. Nick walked around the room, taking it all in and displaying just a tinge of envy.

“How did you come across this place, Bishop?”

“My father worked on this ranch when I was growing up. There wasn’t a lot to do around here as a kid, so I hunted this entire area. I came across the spring when I was about 11 years old and found this room the same day. This little canyon became my favorite place when I was growing up, mainly because the room was always so much cooler than the open air outside.”

“So you bought the ranch?”

“No. The original owner died, and his kids didn’t like the West Texas lifestyle. They decided to split up large tracts of the land and sell them off. My father had been a foreman, and it’s kind of tradition to pass along a little land to key employees. Basically, I inherited the place. Over the years, I would come out here a few weeks at a time and make improvements. I had visions of a nice hunting lodge, not a home.”

Bishop handed Nick a 2-way radio. The big man looked at the device and asked, “You don’t have cell service out here?”

Bishop laughed, “No, I couldn’t afford Terri’s extra minutes.”

Bishop locked up the
Bat Cave, and the duo reversed their earlier procedure, resetting the tripwires as they exited the ranch. On the open road again, Bishop commented, “Sandy Hill is neither sandy, nor a hill. It’s a gray rock mesa about eight miles off this highway. You can barely see it from the road on a clear day.”

Nick looked out the window at the desolate Chihuahuan desert scrolling by. “We’ve got to walk eight miles through this stuff?”

“I hope not. I’m counting on someone having built a road during the construction. I can’t imagine machinery like those windmills being maintenance free, so the power company would need a service road too.”