Chapter 10 - The Unmarked Rig
The sudden silence between the two groups was broken only by the steady, rhythmic chug-chug of the diesel-powered drilling rig sinking its diamond-tipped bit into the bedrock. Nora sat perfectly still behind the cracked windshield of her truck, her hands gripping the wheel so hard her fingers turned blue.
These weren't county deputies, and they weren't livestock repossession contractors. These were private security contractors hired to protect an illegal wildcat drilling operation on contested property. Vance hadn't waited for the legal eviction to clear; he had already started drilling before the ink on the fraudulent court order was even dry.
One of the armed men, carrying a tactical carbine slung across his chest, took three slow, deliberate paces toward the driver-side door. ""Turn off the engine and step out with your hands visible,"" he ordered, his voice cold, devoid of any regional accent.
Nora glanced down at the passenger seat. The heavy canvas bag was within arm's reach. Beneath it, wedged behind the truck’s bench seat, was her father’s 12-gauge field shotgun—unloaded, with three shells rolling loose on the rusted floorboards.
""I'm on Miller land,"" Nora called through the cracked window, her voice steady despite the trembling in her jaw. ""You're operating on an unpermitted mineral lease.""
May you like
The man didn't argue. He raised his hand toward the two operators at the rig control panel and signaled with a sharp downward slice of his palm. ""We have orders to detain any trespassers until the county convoy arrives. Turn it off now.""
Instead of turning the key, Nora grabbed the heavy iron gear shifter, threw the truck into reverse, and stomped on the throttle. The rear tires threw up a blinding shower of crushed limestone directly into the contractor's face, the old truck screaming backward down the narrow canyon just as a sharp, metallic pop cracked through the air and punched a neat, circular hole through the passenger-side wing mirror.
