BURN SCAR: A Contemporary Disaster Thriller

By T.J. Tao

“An amazing journey into the fire and beyond!”

“A story of heartbreak and resilience, with a few bad guys thrown in for good measure.”

“This may be fiction, but it tells a very ‘real’ story of disaster and heroism”

• Language: English
• Publisher: WordsmithMojo Publishing
• Release date: Aug 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733430104

T.J. Tao

T.J. Tao is an author, freelance writer, and entrepreneur, now based in Southern Idaho. He is a practicing wordsmith, a recovering wine snob, a guitar player, and most importantly a father of four. He and his family are survivors of the #CampFire which destroyed Paradise, California on November 8th, 2018. He has a degree in Biochemistry with minors in Chemistry, Math, and Physics from the University of Arizona.

Book preview

Chapter One

Three Weeks Ago

Power, wielded without concurrent leadership ability, becomes the last gasp of breath for a mutinied Captain intent on going down with his or her vessel. Yes, that is better than a flushing toilet analogy, but not nearly as relevant.

Politics in a small town are far different from the divisive nature of the national political scene. In theory, everyone is doing what they can to better the town as a whole. Which is great until it becomes election season… then the people want answers, they want reports of progress. They want potholes fixed and to be able to find a job. They want the town to actually be better. Economic stagnation and decline tend to paint a target on a Town’s leadership. New candidates seem to come out of the woodwork to challenge the status quo. And the status quo doesn’t like it.

Joanna Moody was pissed.  She tossed the file she had been reading onto Town Manager Jillian Dupree’s desk with an audible sigh. Mayor Joana Moody was in the midst of an unexpectedly difficult bid for re-election to the Town Council of Genna.

So, that’s it then?, her nasal voice exasperated, Three weeks until the election and the sewer project is dead?

Bringing a sewer to Genna had been her primary goal and talking point for the last two years. While the other candidates spoke of fire safety and economic growth, she had focused on past achievements and the sewer which she believed would revitalize the business community. But as this file showed, for the third time, The Ridge was simply not geologically compatible with a sewer system. A layer of slate too shallow under the soil made it a near-impossible challenge and being on a ridge with canyons on both sides added a logistical nightmare that would make the already outrageous price tag double, if not triple. But her can-do attitude and her 30 years at the Idaho Department of Transportation told her she could get this done. She had managed highway projects that ran into geological hurdles numerous times and was always able to plow through and find a way to make it happen. Not this time. She was incredulous.

Don’t give up yet! The voters will sense it if you lose your focus. Sewer or no sewer I need you to be re-elected. Jillian urged. She meant it. She needed Moody to be re-elected.

Genna had a slightly unorthodox Town Council electoral process, not unheard of, but not common either. The title of Mayor was largely ceremonial. There were five Town Council seats. After the election, the Council itself would vote for one of their own to be the Mayor. Historically, that meant the Mayor ran the Town Council meetings and went to ribbon cuttings and other ceremonies. Even with the title of Mayor, she held no more power than any of the other Town Council members. Joanna Moody was finishing the end of her second term as Mayor and third term on the Council. With her consistent presence, however and the election of a couple of less ambitious but agreeable Council members she had become the de facto leader by seniority, if not leadership ability.

Jillian Dupree had gained tremendous power during her tenure and needed Moody’s re-election to give her a buffer against some town folk who had begun to question her acquisition of power. In most towns and cities, the Town Manager worked for and at the pleasure of the Council. Not in Genna, here Jillian Dupree ran the show. She offered up the only data and propositions that the Council would vote on. She controlled what the Council members said to the public. She had her finger on everything that went on. She was not about to let the sewer failure change that. She needed Mayor Moody, simply because she wasn’t smart enough to think for herself. That was fine with Jillian, she was smart enough to think for the both of them.

By the way, Sam Martinez is going to be here in about an hour, he wants to talk to us about that geological assay. He says he has a plan. She said nodding to the file Moody had tossed so haphazardly onto her tidy workspace.

A short time later, Sam arrived and Jillian greeted him out in her office’s reception area, then led him to the conference room. Always Lead was her motto, but she also used her narrow backside wedged into a knee-length pencil skirt to her advantage as men followed her, she knew she had their attention before the first words were spoken. The Mayor, a homely sort with unkempt stringy brownish-gray hair, was trying to wipe some odd bit of food off her blouse when they walked in. Jillian smirked as the Mayor clumsily stood to shake hands.

Good to see you, Sam. I need some good news., She said.

Sam Martinez was a shade under five foot nine with dark brown hair and tan skin; a shade lighter than the dark black hair and deeper skin pigmentation of the rest of his family. His father still suspected that Sam wasn’t actually his son, but had never taken it out him. No, that suspicion and the anger behind it had been reserved for his mother for the last forty-five years. Despite the fact that he knew embarrassingly little Spanish, he still had a slight Hispanic accent or inflection on certain words. This was likely due to his upbringing on the outskirts of the Pascua Yaqui Reservation in South Tucson. He had come a long way from living in utter poverty, on the Res, to brokering multi-million dollar deals. But that experience growing up had also given him an edge to his demeanor that people often confused with toughness. He preferred to view it more as the drive to get ‘it’ done, whatever ‘it’ was.

Sam was something of a fixer.  Joanna had met him during her years building highways throughout the State. Whenever they ran into a hurdle; geological impediments, residents fighting easements, funding shortages, whatever they ran into Sam would find a solution and get the project back on track. She had introduced Sam to Jillian when they needed a strong push to get a bond measure passed to cover government pensions, against heavy resistance from the citizens of Genna. After the first two geological surveys failed to deliver a realistic path to a sewer system, she reached out to Sam to help with this last gasp attempt.

Well, ladies. I think I have a solution. He announced as he pulled his own copy of the latest survey and a large map of the area and spread the map out on the conference table. The way I see it, you have three primary issues. First, at a little over 24,000 residents, Genna is the largest town in the State of Idaho without a sewer system and the town simply cannot attract manufacturers or larger revenue-generating businesses to the area because the septic tanks simply aren’t sustainable for them. Second, with all the surveys that have been done, there simply is no way to build along the western rim because of both the geology and the geography. He pointed at the map, running his finger along the canyon west of town. We could overcome one or the other, but with both geological and topographical challenges, it is doomed. And, of course, lastly… you have no idea how to pay for it. Fifteen Million dollars. I mean, you guys blew your budget up just to pay for the Environmental Impact studies and Geo Assays.

He paused to look at their defeated faces before spinning the map around so the other side of the town was facing them. We have never really considered the eastern ridge, primarily because it is further away from what you consider your business corridor and there is no flat easy spot down the canyon to install a treatment plant. But I showed the results from the core samples of this ridge to my people and they became interested. He pointed to his printout which had several mineral values circled: copper pyrites, zinc blende, galena, and tetradymite.

These don’t mean anything is there, but the high concentrations of a few of these minerals could be markers indicating the presence of more valuable minerals underneath this shelf. Valuable enough that they came up with a solution to your problems. They are proposing that they shear off the edge of this ridge to a ninety-degree angle so that they can bolt your sewer right to the cliff face and run it down to here.

He pointed to a tree-covered spot at the base of the canyon. I have already spoken to the Forestry Department and Bureau of Land Management and have assurance from both that we can obtain this piece of land for the treatment plant right here.

Sam certainly had their attention now. Now to close the deal. He took a deep breath and exhaled long slow and evenly. They will build your sewer and fund it for you. They want to help bring your beautiful little town into at least the 20th century, if not the 21st. And they want to start right away.

Mayor Moody had the first tears streaming down her face. Jillian, we’re really going to get this done! she exclaimed. Finally!

Jillian Dupree almost cracked a smile on her narrow hawkish face, before regaining her composure. I like it, Sam. But who are ‘they’ and what do they want? Nobody is handing out fifteen million dollars without expecting a return on their investment.

Sam feigned offense, Philanthropists give back to their communities all the time. But I hear you. These guys are venture capitalists that understand that sitting on a mineral claim is a great long-term investment holding. Shaving the edge of that canyon wall to build your sewer pipeline will also let them drill horizontal samples under that shelf to see if the indicators are accurate and determine what minerals might be there.

They want to mine, Genna? Jillian chirped louder than she meant to, but she was incredulous.

Sam took a step back and put his hands out in front of him defensively, No, No, No, they don’t want to mine Genna. You can’t just mine a town, come on. But owning the mineral rights gives solidity to their investment portfolio, strengthening their positioning on their next big business deal. These guys do multi-billion dollar deals all around the world. Frankly, the fifteen million dollars here is small beans to them, but it is a game-changer for your town. It’s a true win-win.

Okay, that makes sense, I guess. What are the conditions of this deal?

They are only really asking for three things in exchange for this. He looked at Joana Moody, First, you must win the upcoming election. The two of you must retain your leadership roles. These guys don’t like uncertainty and changing leadership in the middle of a project could prove disastrous. To that end, they will buy some TV time for you and get you some marketing money. Your challengers are all low dollar small-town handshake campaigners. We’ll help you kill them with exposure. He glanced up at Joanna who, in his mind, was not a TV-friendly face and made a mental note to have the guys work up some great messaging for her.

Second, and this will require some work on your part. There just over thirteen thousand homes in Genna. He pointed to an area along the eastern rim circled in red, these forty-nine houses will need to be demolished to create the cliff wall for your sewer pipe. That is just zero-point-three percent of the town’s homes. I don’t care how you do it, but you must acquire these properties. Buy them out, use eminent domain laws to take them. Whatever it takes, and it must be done quickly. Nothing happens until those are acquired.

But Sam, some of these people aren’t going to want to move at any price. The Mayor offered.

Then you don’t get a sewer. It’s quite simple. Sam grabbed the map and test results and put them back in his briefcase. You have three weeks to get yourself re-elected. I’ll have the production people come out here tomorrow to get started on a few TV spots. Jillian, that gives you three weeks to figure out how to acquire those properties.  I will draw up the paperwork and bring it by at, say nine a.m. tomorrow?

The Town Attorney, Owen, will have to sit in on that, just so you know.

Sam nodded, shook hands with both of them and turned on his heel for the door.

Sam, Jillian called after him. you said there were three things that they were asking for: For Joanna to win, to acquire the properties and what was third?

Oh my, I thought that was clear… We get the mineral rights to those 49 properties.

Chapter Two

Tuesday 8 pm

It was time. He wished it wasn’t. He was a good public speaker, so it wasn’t that. And this was far from a hostile crowd; he’d handpicked most of the attendees. Tonight, of all nights, he needed to project enthusiasm and optimism, but deep in his gut, he sensed a darkness coming.

He slid his chair back and stood up from the table, which stretched the length of the room. His trademark blue plaid, button-down shirt and black cargo shorts belied the importance of the occasion. He looked down the long table, past the 38 people sipping cocktails and chatting amiably, and caught her eye; nodding toward the center on the far side of the table, as he walked around to meet her there.

There was nobody else in the restaurant, this was a private affair. This particular restaurant was quite new in town and had quickly gained a reputation for flavor and for the classy vibe that emanated from its modern take on ‘Old Barn’ Chic. They also only served breakfast and lunch, which made it the perfect place to hold tonight’s dinner.

Ladies & gentleman, yes, it’s that time. But first, let’s give some love to our chef and hosts for opening up just for us tonight. James, lifted his water glass toward the chef, as the crowd cheered and raised their own imbibements toward Tony, which he accepted with a bow.

  Now, I want to thank all of you, not just for coming tonight, but for supporting, helping and sharing our message throughout the campaign. This was a pretty intense campaign at times, especially for this small of a town, and I have to admit that I kinda enjoyed that, he laughed and the crowd followed suit.

Though, I also have to admit that I am really glad it’s over. Tonight, or tomorrow when the results are in, we’ll know the outcome. We have done all that we can do. As we planned this event tonight Chrystal and I called this, euphemistically, of course, the ‘Thank God it’s Over Dinner’. He turned and laughed with Chrystal.

I want you all to know, that win or lose, I am really proud of the campaign we ran. I am really proud that so many people got involved and stood behind our message. I am really glad that we fought hard when we needed to and rallied and unified the townspeople in a way that the folks in town hall never imagined, and I expect that voter turnout today broke records. I’m not going to predict victory. No, it is always difficult to beat an incumbent. I am hopeful, but… He paused to look around the room, But I know without a doubt that this little lady, right here, a woman that most of you had never even heard of until three months ago, got enough votes to ensure that Scott Hill doesn’t win, that son of a bitch. If you ask me, that alone is worth all the hard work.

I appreciate the trust you all have put in me and my judgment. But enough about me, let’s hear from the woman of the hour, my friend, Chrystal Van Der Linden. James announced as they embraced in a big hug. Then he stepped back and walked away.

This is her show now, he thought to himself. I am done.

Wednesday 7 am

He backed out of the driveway of his charming little two-story home and noticed the way that the American flag on the barn-red front deck swayed with the breeze as he shifted into drive and pulled away. The salmon-colored sunrise cast a soft hue over the town. James was on his way to meet some of ‘the boys’ for coffee and pontificating down on Easy Street. Somehow it kept him centered.

He felt good. Relaxed, for the first time in months, he was eager to move on and figure out what was next. He had been approached a year or so ago about running for Genna Town Council, himself. The current town ‘leadership’ had no idea how to attract businesses or grow an economy. They were much better at letting the same cronies watch over the slow and steady decline of the beautiful and once prosperous town.

Born James Aloysius Augustine, his parents were distant relatives and great fans of the Irish writer James Augustine Aloysius Joyce, he thought he had a pretty good shot at beating the incumbent. He had only lived in Genna for three years, but had developed a strong voice within the community and knew he could appeal to the masses. Genna had truly become his home and he loved and had become a part this community more than he had anywhere else he had ever lived.

He turned down the invitation anyway. His life had some uncertainty and having to move was a distinct possibility. He wasn’t sure that he could commit to a four-year term. If he was honest with himself, he also knew that he had enough skeletons in his closet to turn his endeared following into a lynch mob should they ever come to light. No, it was better for him to work in the background. James wasn’t a bad guy, but he had done some bad and stupid things. He had remade himself into an upstanding citizen when he arrived in Genna. Though he never forgot where he came from. In fact, that was why he was heading to Easy Street at seven a.m. on a Wednesday morning to have coffee and conversation with ‘the boys’ at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

James checked his phone, knowing that soon messages would start pouring in. A friend at the County Recorder’s office had sent him the unofficial election results last night during the dinner, Chrystal hadn’t won, but James didn’t want to spoil the evening for everyone, so he had kept it to himself. He smiled and allowed himself a quick moment of basking in personal accomplishment. James had taken a largely unknown newcomer to town from obscurity into the limelight. Her own positive energy, unstoppable volunteerism, and southern belle personality had turned the limelight into a genuine cultural movement. He had truly hoped that Chrystal would win, however that wasn’t his only objective. He had accomplished his primary goal, extraordinarily well. His secondary goal, well, he had sacrificed that to achieve the primary goal, pulling enough votes from Scott Hill to make sure that he was nowhere near Town Hall.

Genna itself is a beautiful town of just under 25,000 residents, nestled on a ridge just south of Mount Heyburn in west-central Idaho, overlooking the South Fork Salmon River Valley. Near the edge of the Sawtooth National Forest, the area was rich with lakes, rivers, wildlife and covered with Spruce, Fir, Cedar and Pine trees. It was a mountain town at heart, but it had grown to a point that ‘city’ problems had begun to plague it. Economic growth had ceased two decades before and the slow slide to economic decay had picked up its pace. Much of that lack of progress lay at the feet of the current Town leadership and their lack of vision, in James’ opinion. The good ol’ boys network at the Genna Chamber of Commerce had continually filled town council spots with a majority of their own adherents. In effect, the same handful of people had run the town for a generation. They had pushed