Latitude 37

By Don P. Bick

Earth is undergoing major changes, in preparation for the biggest change of all. Disturbances and natural disasters are everywhere. As many areas around the globe experience devastation, a small group of people with special skills are brought together for a specific purpose. What that purpose is they have no idea. But due to the circumstances surrounding the ‘call’ they received to join this group they believe it to be important. Will they survive in the paradise they have created?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Don P. Bick
• Release date: Jul 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476295107

Don P. Bick

Don is a Vietnam Veteran. Recently he spent several months in Vietnam working on his war memoirs - The Boy Died In Vietnam. He has written several novels and short stories. His two favorite topics are love and life after death. Visit his website for more information. Your comments are always appreciated!

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sun reflected off the huge concrete structure, a man-made marvel every bit as impressive as any other man-made wonder of the world. Its graceful curve extended far back into the canyon walls and held back untold billions upon billions of gallons of water. The massive dam is a testimony to the will and determination of the human being. When seeing it for the first time most visitors stand there in awe, mesmerized by its beauty and size. It is huge! Just considering the amount of concrete used in the project is beyond the comprehension of the average visitor.

Over the years the large reservoir of water created and held back by the dam has become a popular vacation and leisure spot. Thousands of tourists, as well as residents flock to the beaches at the water’s edge with their towels and suntan oil, while others would slide their boats into the water for a day of fishing or water skiing. Many of the beaches are only accessible by boat, adding a small measure of privacy to those looking for it. Some would come down to stroll along the water, maybe just to watch the people or stop to chat with a returning fisherman for a few minutes.

The dam is located just outside of the city of Las Vegas, Nevada; the reservoir formed by the dam is named Lake Mead. The temperature generally soared to over one hundred degrees in the city and surrounding areas, as is usual for that desert region. It was cooler by the water, although most would debate that fact as their skin roasted under the hot afternoon sun. Still, a quick dip in the cool water was heaven on a sun scorched day in the desert. It was especially attractive to those people in the area without a handy pool near home.

It is also usual for the area to experience many earthquakes over the course of a year. Most of these tremblers aren't felt by much of the local population, they are just too small. But something was different this year over those of the past. Lately there had been lots of shakers; most of them were intense and were being felt by everyone. And as a result, nerves were on edge. That coupled with the high temperatures, and more than a few people were ready to explode. Violent crimes were up in the city, as well.

Rumors were flying about the possibility that the big one might hit the area at any moment. There were even articles in the local newspapers supporting that notion. Although, if you asked the experts on the subject, they thought it unlikely a quake of any significant size was going to happen in the immediate area anytime soon. They pointed to the fact that even though the geology did suggest a large quake was possible, even likely, there was no evidence of stresses building in that section of the desert at the present time. The experts believed it unlikely now but, in a few decades, it was probably a safe bet one could occur. Even if it did, some would say, the city was well prepared to handle any such emergency arising from an unusually large earthquake.

And always, when there was talk about a large devastating earthquake hitting the area, the conversation would inevitably turn to the dam. How safe was it in the event there was major earth movement, after all the structure was getting old, having been built decades earlier? No one really knew how the concrete and steel would hold up under the stress and strain that could be produced by a high magnitude quake. When you compounded those tremendous forces with the incredible pressure of the tons of water being held back and pushing on the dam, it was anyone’s guess as to what might happen during a major shake.

There was about every kind of rumor or theory one could imagine circulating around the city. All a person had to do was walk around downtown for a few minutes and a good variety of those rumors could be heard. The subject was on everyone’s mind and no amount of positive talk could change that. People’s nerves were on edge and it was noticeable. Just as soon as another quake struck, all the positive media faded from the airwaves and the negative was reinforced and dwelt upon day after day.

One thing was certain. All the talk of a big shaker didn't seem to dampen the spirits of the people coming into the city to gamble, nor did it keep them away. In fact, the city was boasting about record numbers of visitors so far this year. Most facilities were packed and booked several weeks in advance. It was as though people were flocking to Las Vegas to get their last bets down, in the event they would be denied the chance to do so in the future.

Although gambling luck ran the same for most people, one man claimed a sizable quake made him a small fortune. He had just rolled the dice on the crap table. As they were coming to rest a sharp jolt flipped them over, giving him an eleven. He had just parlayed a previous eleven win and had over four hundred fifty dollars bet on the five and six combination. Shrieking Yo Eleven! the house paid him the fifteen-to-one odds. The rest of the night he kept waiting for the ground to start shaking once again. It didn't. It seemed he needed the ground to move one more time because his luck went downhill right after his big winnings reached his side of the table. Rumor has it that he lost all those winnings plus several hundred dollars more that very same night, while waiting and hoping for another jolt that never happened.

Statements from so called experts were easy to obtain. Various scientists were interviewed, and some received lots of media attention, however, the bulk of the population didn't place much stock in their statements and opinions, especially those that spoke so easily and so often. People commented that if the scientists didn't understand what was going on with the ground movement, how could they be believed when they said there was nothing to worry about? It would pass and things would settle back to normal was something else that was said a lot, as well as printed all over the newspapers. One man was quoted as saying It’s all politics, everyone is afraid of losing business, so they publish what most people want to hear. They ain't got no better idea of what might happen than I do, he said. After he finished talking to the reporter, he bought another beer and dropped the change into a quarter slot-machine. He didn't win.

When the ground shook, as it so often had in recent months, the gamblers would laugh and once more pull the handle on the slot-machine where they were seated. Others, without a second thought, would throw the dice the length of the crap table one more time. Some of the locals would shake their heads and say they were gambling with more than their money by simply being there during this uncertain time. And yet most of those same local people stayed. It was their home and they had no intention of being run out off by a few earthquakes.

But that wasn’t the case with others, each time the ground shook, some moved. The flow of people moving out was at its highest level in history. Many just knew they were sitting on a death trap. Some of the people moving had lived in the area all their lives. No amount of assurance could persuade those that decided to leave that the trembles would pass, and things would soon get back to normal. Most thought that was probably true but weren't willing to take the risk. They said the odds were too great that the big one was coming.

Most residents would stay. They liked the glitter of all the lights and the year-round sunshine; the excitement that comes with living in a city like Las Vegas. That excitement couldn't be explained rationally. Perhaps they felt they were living on the edge, never knowing if one day you might be lucky and win enough money to retire, or whether you might just come face to face with your favorite movie star or sports personality. It was a lifestyle unlike any other. And the pay was better than average for many of the service jobs at the casinos that catered to the thousands of tourists that flocked to the city every weekend. That alone kept most people there. The next big tip was just one person away.

Many of the residents would grumble, complain and threaten to leave but knew they never would. If the big one came, they would be there when it did. So, each day the residents would get out of bed at all hours of the day and night to serve the never closing casinos and all-night businesses. Paul was one of those residents who would be staying. But Paul didn't live and work in Las Vegas. He had a place some thirty-five miles away, out in the country with a little acreage. He worked at Boulder Dam.

The ground started shaking as he made his last round. He was checking the gauges that covered one entire wall in the long concrete room. The shaking lasted for perhaps thirty seconds, a long time when you want it to stop. Fortunately, it wasn't as strong as some during the past few months, thought Paul, as he continued logging in the readings after the quake had stopped. He had been through many of these tremblers and the small shakers didn't bother him much anymore. He was always concerned about being at work during a strong one and that was beginning to look more and more likely with each passing month. Not that Paul had any real idea as to whether a large quake would strike. He just joked with everyone that his opinion was as good as any so-called expert, the likes of which also had no idea what would or wouldn’t happen. The fact was that the intensity and frequency of the quakes was obviously increasing. There was no doubt about that. So, to him it just stood to reason that a large one very likely loomed soon.

Paul was nearing the end of his shift. He worked in the power monitoring room, deep within the massive concrete structure that composed Hoover Dam. That is now the official name of the dam once known as Boulder Dam. With the humming of machinery filling his ears, Paul returned to the workstation at the center of the huge room. He set his clipboard on the hook near the security monitor so Art, his replacement on the next shift, could continue monitoring and recording the readings.

Paul, at 28, was young to have attained such a high position within the power company. At first glance his position seemed like a job that most anyone could do with a little training, but that wasn't really the case. Sure, most people could take the numbers off the gauges with very little instruction and log them into the record, but that was the least important aspect of his job. The difficult part was in knowing what all the various gauges and their subsequent readings represented. Then decisions had to be made to adjust settings, scheduling maintenance shutdowns, and re-routing circuits for emergencies during unscheduled shutdowns, or other periods of crises. Along with the responsibility of the position, however, there were usually a couple of hours a day where Paul was free to pursue his studies or work with his latest ideas on paper.

A graduate of MIT, third in his class at that, assured him a relatively good job upon graduation. The generation of power in the form of electricity was a deep-seated love of Paul's. It was a love that reached back into his past for as long as he could remember. His coworkers thought him a genius, although they were the first to admit that Paul was just a normal person in any other respect. But when it came to electricity, he was one of the elites in his field.

It was true that generation of electric power was Paul's life. One thing his coworkers didn't know was that the generation of power by damming up water was not at the heart of that love. His primary interest was directed at finding new ways to generate electricity. Electricity from solar energy was a close second to his search for new sources of power.

Paul's choice in taking the job at the dam a little over three years ago seemed strange to some of his closest friends. They thought it was a position beneath his intelligence. In fact, it hadn’t been a difficult decision at all for him to make. By working and living near the dam he would have lots of sunshine to work with for his private solar experiments at home. He would also have a good income to support his personal study. And his wife, Linda, of the past four years, worked not far away. She worked under a government grant only thirty miles from the dam.

Paul's blond hair shone in the bright sunshine as he threw his briefcase onto the seat on the passenger side of his pickup truck, a truck which had seen better days. Another brief jolt rocked the earth as Paul slipped behind the wheel and closed the door. For a moment he stared at the dam, wondering what it would really be like if an extremely large earthquake hit the region. Would the dam hold? If one did come, he hoped he wasn't at work that day.

Paul was average height for his 175 pounds and his blond hair and blue eyes attested to his German heritage. At first glance Paul looked like the all-around athlete routinely pictured in magazine advertisements. But the truth is Paul didn't spend time playing sports while growing up, he didn't have the time. He was always too busy with his thoughts and experiments. His head was always buried deep inside a book at the library or at home. He never regretted it for a moment. Ever since he was old enough to remember he felt a calling deep within that just precluded sports and many other things most teenagers enjoy. That calling undeniably directed his life activities. And if asked about that feeling he had deep inside he would have no way of properly explaining it to anyone. It was his true self; perhaps his soul guiding him and leading him along a path that never deviated from the course it had established when he was young. He just knew he was destined toward some yet undefined goal or purpose. Paul never dwelt on the thought, however. It was something embedded deep within his subconscious, he believed a predestined purpose governed his life. And the great thing was that he truly enjoyed what he did, couldn’t think of another way of life that appealed to him more than the one he had.

Paul always felt a prickling sensation travel up and down his spine when he looked at the monstrosity before him. Seeing the immensity of the concrete structure stretched out across the canyon, as he traveled down the highway, always gave him goose bumps.

As soon as the dam was out of sight his thoughts turned to his latest project. He was sure he was getting close to success after all the months of preparation and work he had put into it. A couple more days and he would be ready to run a test. This time he was sure the results would be positive.

The dam and the earthquakes had been completely forgotten as he pulled into his driveway and parked the pickup.

Chapter 2

The sun beat down on the desert floor; the temperature had risen to 107 degrees. Heat waves could be seen rising from the dry stretches of the sparsely covered ground. Thousands of simmering mirages danced across the imagination of those who sought to see beyond the real. Here and there could be seen a small oasis of green, a testimony to the presence of water and the occasional human habitat. Encroaching upon the barren setting sat a large multistoried glass structure spreading its shaded panes across several acres. The glass building was filled with greenery and it wasn't a mirage. Although it was real, in this desolate landscape, it seemed completely out of place.

Buses of students would come and go at this facility bringing bright eager faces on a rare outing to study what lay inside the large complex, and indeed just to see the structure itself. They would gaze in awe at the large sprawling glass building and wonder why it didn't fall. As the buses rolled to a stop, dozens of faces could be seen pressed against windows as the teacher or instructor began the tour of the Botanical Research Center.

Once disembarked from the buses the first attraction, and always one of the favorites, was a forty by eighty foot glassed in enclosure filled with native desert vegetation, and it also contained at least two dozen large rattlesnakes. Some of the young ladies would screech or scream when the snakes were spotted for the first time, all to the delight of some of the young men. It was always debatable whether the young men were as brave as they claimed to be. While around the young ladies they certainly acted like they were.

Depending upon what time of year the tour took place there could be several nests filled with dozens of baby rattlers, squirming and entwining themselves around one another. They were always the biggest hit among the young students. The small rattlers would eventually be removed from the glass cage, keeping the number of snakes to a manageable level. The enclosure never failed to captivate the young audiences and produce the desired effects; to start the students off on the tour in a happy and receptive mood, filled with promise and hope as to what other secrets lay within the glass walls.

With each group there was always someone who would pretend to drop a snake on one of the young ladies, filling her vision with horror as a piece of rope or desert wood appeared inches from her face. She would scream and the culprit would be reprimanded. On tour day some of the employees would stand around and wait patiently for that one student to stalk an unwitting victim. They enjoyed it more than the students and laughed anew with each fresh tour, as long as their supervisor didn't catch them, that is.

The entrance to the complex opened into a large lobby. The interior walls were covered with pictures of some of the specimens found within the plant city. Brochures and some gift items filled several shelves in a small alcove. A double-wide set of glass doors let to a greenhouse room along the right side of the lobby. It was packed full of plants that could be purchased by its visitors. There were also small starter plants lined up on row after row of wooden tables on both sides of the greenhouse. One of these was given to each student at the completion of their tour. The students got to choose from several different varieties of the desert plants. Part of the fun of the tour was in picking their own personal plant when they were ready to leave. No one at the research facility knew how many of the starter plants made it to full growth after they had been given to one of the student or adult tour members.

Tour day was every Wednesday for students and other organized adult tour groups. The general public could tour the facility as individuals on Saturdays. Occasionally there would be a tour on another day of the week from some large group, but that was the exception rather than the rule. Of course, these tours were restricted to air-conditioned separate enclosed catwalks overlooking the structure’s main growing enclosures. No one was allowed inside the actual growing and working areas aside from employees of the research center, although there were several beautiful tropical settings where the tour group could stop and enjoy some