CHAPTER NINE THE CLEANSING FLAME
CHAPTER NINE
THE CLEANSING FLAME
“They claim this mother of ours, the Earth,
for their own use, and fence their neighbors
away from her, and deface her with
their buildings and their refuse.”Sitting Bull
5:00 PM
June 14th
Red Basin Energy Pump Station #3
Twenty Miles From Black Dog Rig #7
The employees of Pump Station #3 were all in the briefing room. They’d been called in for a special safety meeting after what had happened on the Black Dog Rig yesterday.
“Alright, settle down,” called a man in a white shirt with khakis and steel-toed boots.
His nametag read “Curtis Beaumont – Site Supervisor,” and he stood at the podium at the front of the room.
He was in his early fifties and clearly hadn’t done any physical work in a while.
He was close to fifty pounds overweight.
That and the white shirt set him apart from the other workers instantly.
“Listen up a sec,” he said. “We’ve got a visitor from Corporate here to brief us on what happened at Black Dog yesterday. You might have heard about it.”
There were murmurs, but no one so much as smiled.
“Yeah, we fuckin’ heard about it, Curt,” said a man sitting at a back table. “The question is, what’s Red Basin doing about it? Are they going to protect us?”
His nametag read “Kevin Rollins – Pump Operator,” and he was in his early thirties, fit, and had a thick, dark beard. He was also the shop Union Steward.
“Protect you from what?” asked Curt. “We don’t even know what happened yet. Now, save those questions for this man. Let me introduce Derek Voss, Red Basin Energy’s Regional Operations Manager.”
There was no applause.
“Here we go,” muttered a Hispanic man in his late 30s.
His nametag read “ángel Reyes – Maintenance Technician,” and he still wore his coveralls like they were a uniform, a leftover trait from the military.
“Thank you,” said a man in a three-piece suit that cost more than most everyone in the room made in a week.
He had a hundred-dollar haircut and was clean-shaven with a silk Oxford tie. There was just something about him that set everyone’s teeth on edge. Maybe it was the polished Ivy League good looks or the complete lack of calluses on his hands, but he just came across as smarmy.
“As Curt said,” he began, “my name is Derek Voss. I’m the Regional Operations Manager, and I’m here to discuss the incident on Oil Rig Number Seven.”
“Incident?” said Rollins. “You mean massacre. I knew a few of the crew. I heard they were all found torn apart.”
“Well, an uncontrolled rig explosion will do that,” explained Voss. “What happened was a tragic loss of life, and we at Corporate take the safety of our people very seriously. That’s why we ordered a full safety audit for this facility. We also increased the number of security personnel and staff.”
“Yeah, I saw one of those security guards,” said a man with a lab coat on. “He’s from the Rez. How can you let one of them in here when it’s likely they blew up the rig?”
His nametag read “Todd Hensley – Instrumentation and Electrical Technician.” He was about five-ten and physically fit.
“We don’t know that,” Curt said. “They haven’t determined a cause yet. Don’t go spreading rumors until there’s evidence to back it up. So, stow that shit right now. We don’t have any way to know if anyone from the Rez was involved. This could just be a tragic accident and nothing more.”
Hensley frowned but didn’t press the issue.
“Now, as I was saying,” Voss continued, “we are taking every precaution to ensure your safety, but this isn’t the time to panic.
Oil production must meet your quotas, and even though losing Rig Number Seven will slow our production schedule, it wasn’t pumping yet.
They were still drilling. This station needs to stay online and ahead of schedule. ”
“Typical,” snapped Rollins. “Keep the oil flowing, no matter what.”
“Well, that is why we’re here,” said Voss. “That is what we pay you for. And corporate security believes the event at Rig Number Seven is an isolated incident and there’s no cause for alarm.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Rollins said. “We’re the closest site to Black Dog. You’re just here to give us a pep talk. We live and work here.”
The ground shook slightly beneath their feet.
“What the hell was that?” asked Voss, suddenly concerned.
“Relax, Mister Suit and Tie,” Rollins said. “Probably a pressure change in one of the main pumps. Hensley, can you go check the readings?”
“Sure,” Hensley said, giving Voss a dirty look. “I doubt I’m going to miss anything here anyway. Besides, I’ve had enough smoke blown up my ass for one day.”
The tremor seemed to have passed as Hensley headed down the hallway.
“You seem certain that was just a pump,” Voss said, glaring at Rollins.
“Well, if you ever left your office,” Rollins countered, “you might know how these places operate. When there’s a pressure imbalance, the whole place shakes.”
Hensley stepped into the control room and began inspecting the gauges. After a moment, he checked a computer monitor, then grabbed his radio.
“Hensley to Rollins,” he said.
“Go,” Rollins said.
Everyone in the meeting room stopped talking while Rollins was on the radio.
“I don’t know what caused that little tremor,” Hensley said. “There’s no sign of a fluctuation in any of the pumps or pressure gauges.”
“Check again,” Rollins said. “There’s got to be an error in the readings.”
“I already did,” Hensley replied. “Nothing’s wrong with the dials or the instruments. We’re still well within tolerances.”
“I’m on my way,” Rollins said, getting to his feet.
“I’m not finished,” whined Voss.
“Look,” said Rollins, annoyance in his voice, “do you want to keep bullshitting us or do you want us to meet the quotas? I’ve got work to do.”
Rollins walked out and headed down the hallway. He was halfway to the control room when the ground shook again. This time, alarms sounded. Rollins sprinted the rest of the way and ducked inside.
“What the fuck’s going on, Todd?” asked Rollins.
“Fuck if I know,” Hensley replied. “Look at the pressure regulators. They haven’t budged. Pressure variances are minimal. Nothing that should cause a tremor, much less all this.”
“Then what are those alarms ringing for?” asked Rollins.
“What’s going on?” asked a female voice behind them.
She was a petite blonde, about five feet two, in boots, with her hair pulled up into a bun. She wore steel-toed work boots, jeans, and a flannel shirt with a high-vis vest on over it. Her nametag read “Megan Foster – Safety Coordinator.”
“We’re working on it,” Rollins said. “We’re not losing pressure in any of the pumps.”
“What about the secondaries?” she asked, moving up next to Rollins and looking at the gauges.
“Nope,” replied Hensley. “I checked those already. Wait a sec. What the fuck is that?”
“What?” asked Rollins.
“We’ve got wild fluctuations in the cooling pumps,” Hensley said. “We’re about to lose cooling to the big units.”
“Can you find the source and regulate it?” asked Rollins.
“I’m trying,” Hensley said.
“Do I need to take a team to the coolant room?” asked Megan.
“I don’t know,” said Hensley. “Maybe.”
“Todd, you try and figure out what the hell’s going on here,” said Rollins. “Meg and I will head for the coolant room. We’ll let you know what we find.”
“Well, you better hurry,” Hensley said. “If the temperatures continue to rise at this rate, we’ll have to shut down the primary pumps in less than five minutes.”
“Let’s go, Meg,” said Rollins.
As they headed out the door, Rollins hit the radio.
“Rollins to all teams,” he said. “We have a coolant imbalance in Pump Room Two. All crews to your safety stations. This is not a drill. Say again, this is not a drill. Everyone move.”
The ground shook again, more violently this time. More alarm klaxons began blaring.
“That can’t be good,” Meg said, glancing at Rollins.
“Rollins to Security!” he called. “Secure the facility. I repeat, secure the facility.”
“Understood,” called a calm voice.
As Meg and Rollins raced down the hall to the big steel door marked Coolant Pump #2, they slid to a stop because they heard running water.
“That’s not good,” Rollins said. “I think we had a pump explode. Ready?”
“As I ever will be,” she replied, nodding.
Rollins swung open the door and turned on the lights. The entire south wall was crushed inward, and all of the piping had been torn loose from their mountings. Water was spraying everywhere, soaking them both instantly.
“What the hell?” asked Meg. “What did this?”
“This wasn’t a bomb,” Rollins said. “No burn marks.”
“Then what else could it be?” Meg asked, looking around at the carnage.
Where the wall had collapsed was a big pile of rock. Or, at least they thought it was rock. That is, until it stood up.
“Shit!” said Rollins. What the fuck is that thing?”
As it stood, the sound of the layers of rock rubbing together sounded almost like a roar, but the creature itself made no noise. As it stepped forward, the ground shook beneath them, and it extended powerful arms that ended in thick shards of rock, each thicker than a baseball bat.
“Run!” roared Rollins.
Meg turned and ran down the hallway. Rollins shut the door and sprinted after her.
“Shut it all down!” Rollins screamed into the radio. “Shut down all pumps and evacuate the facility, now!”
More groans came from other parts of the pump station, and Rollins heard screams from another section. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t alone.
“Say again!” he screamed. “EVACUATE ALL PERSONNEL NOW!”
Back in the conference room, chaos reigned. Everyone was scrambling for the nearest exit as more and more creatures crushed their way into the facility. Voss began shoving people out of his way to reach an exit. As he neared the door, he shoved Reyes out into the hallway so he could escape.