Day Raters

Day 0

Friday, August 14, 2015. Day 0.

The Beechcraft G58 Baron descended serenely on the dirt runway.... Tim "Truck" Ravell loved it.... A reliable, safe, efficient machine. It was heaven on earth for any pilot under 6'2", not for him at 6'2" and 130 pounds.

-- They made it for midgets,--he muttered to no one, his favorite recurring expression when he began the approach to land anywhere.

Around noon, a thousand kilometers south of Daly Waters, was Camp 3NTE.

22 Christians in the middle of nowhere, working without interruption, drilling completed and the pumping installation finished to make the announcement. A productive, profitable, dual well, light oil of almost Saudi Arabian quality and gas of very good quality to complement it, so the economic possibilities were to dream about.

--Too bad, now that hydrogen and electricity are killing the market,--he thought, arriving at the prefabricated facilities.

-- There are still about 10 years left. Let's take advantage of it,-- he said, shutting down the plane's engines and descending laboriously.

-- These bastards are definitely workaholics,--he exclaimed when he saw that no one was coming to meet him, --If they think I'm going to carry everything myself, they've got the wrong bus.

He looked around. No one.

Nonchalantly he walked towards the main facility, dining room, small office.

He entered the dining room. Everything fine.

Air conditioning on. The place alone. Not a single person. Went to the kitchen. Everything normal. In ten minutes he checked all the conditioned containers...he went to the office container, another dining room, went to the laundry, the refrigerated container for food, walked to the container of general things, the solar wind generator for electricity working well, and the bedrooms with their integrated bathroom.

More strangely than anything else he called out.

-- Hey, guys. It's not funny. I don't know about you. I've got a schedule to keep. Gotta get the supplies down.

He went outside again. He looked down the shaft and at the tower they were starting to disassemble the fine guaya, as the head and lubricator was still in place in the shaft to be replaced by a counterweight pump.

He saw the tools laid out on the floor.

-- There is still a lot of work to be done,-- he said, noticing that no one was there. Until he understood that there really was no one there.

-- Damn it. The people finished their work, they left; some asshole with an i***t scheduled an unnecessary supply flight.

Determined, he walked to his plane and called his base.

He explained the news, while remembering that there was no return flight of personnel to Daly Waters.

It was a mandatory refueling stop.

-- They are there,--was the reply from his base, --We contacted the Sydney office and they are there.

Tim "truck" looked again. No one.

-- I'm going to pass on a Whassap video. I know these people. And they don't do this kind of jokes-- he informed descending between curses and rudeness, he filmed with his Iphone the camp.

The reality was that it was one o'clock in the afternoon, the usual sun, the usual breeze, but it was not normal. No. It definitely wasn't.

-- This is not good,-- he commented, standing in the loneliness.

continue..