The Incident at Pine Hills Mounds
Black-eyed kids and other shenanigans.
Drones: Inhuman and Human
“I figured you might want to look, and it is supposed to be raining hard tomorrow, so I called my nephew. He has a drone that can take pictures and videos, and he can come do a flyover tomorrow. It won’t take long and we’ll literally have a bird’s eye view. I just need your permission to get him out here.”
“Sounds better than getting wet and getting stuck in the mud,” replied Lang. “I suppose we could reinstall one of the cabs on a tractor, but that’s a lot of work. I don’t want to try to take the bulldozer all the way over there. Go ahead and give him a call. Call me later when you find out when he can be here.”
“Okay Boss. I’ll give him another call when I get home.”
Jonty Huffman left work and went home for the day. Later in the evening he called his nephew, Jesse Mendez, to ask him about flying the drone over Mr. Lang’s property. He even offered to give him some gas money and said he’d give him a bonus as well. Jesse excitedly said he would do it the next day, weather permitting. All he needed was directions to Lang’s farm. Jon gave Jesse detailed directions, and then he informed Lang.
The next day Mr. Lang put Israel and Ramon to fixing the fence on the east side of the property, about three miles away, out of sight of the drone and out of the way. They couldn’t drive the farm trucks through the near impassible pasture, so they took Lang’s bulldozer instead. Jesse didn’t show up right away, so Lang and Huffman went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and warm up. It turned out that Jesse made a wrong turn and got lost. He arrived at nine in the morning, which was only about an hour late.
Mendez pulled up in an older model sedan—Lang couldn’t guess the make or model—got out, and glanced up at the sky. It was misting rain, but he owned a high-end civilian drone, an ALMARTENCE-Model-IV, and it could handle the weather. Lang and Jonty came outside to greet Jesse. They all shook hands, and Jesse began to remove the small machine from the back seat. He then explained what he could do with the drone.
“The ALMARTENCE-Model-IV is a good picture-drone. It’ll snap one picture for us, or it’ll snap 100 pictures, whatever we want it to do. I can take video with it, and I can fly it 400 feet high. It’ll go much higher but legally I can only go up to 400. I can fly, distance-wise, for a little over two miles, but technically I’m supposed to go by line of sight. If I can see the drone, great. If I can’t I’m breaking the law.”
“Other than that, I’ve never flown for more than two hours at a time. At that point the battery is going to be low, so I’ll need to come back. As for line of sight, if I can keep that treeline (he pointed at it) in my frame, I don’t need a visual. How far away are we going? And do you have any questions?”
“Yes,” said Jon, “how long will it take for us to see the images?”
“Just as quick as we can get hooked up to a computer,” Jesse answered.
“Okay then,” said Theodore Lang. “We’re trying to look at what might be an Indian burial ground, though we really don’t know what it is. It’s far too muddy to get out there. I’m worried that the tractors might not make it. Our pickups are out of the question for sure. Jon says the mound is about one and one-half miles down the northern treeline. You’ll actually be traveling northwest. I’d like to get enough pictures to see what it looks like out there, and I’ll compensate you for your time and the use of your equipment. If anything happens to your drone I’ll cover that expense too.”
“Good deal,” said Jesse. Lang offered his handshake, and the men shook hands in agreement.
The ALMARTENCE-Model-IV lifted into the air and slowly began to rise to 300 feet. It then made its way toward the treeline. It picked up speed, and Jesse expertly rolled it into a northwest turn. They could all see the drone at this distance, and when he was pleased with its position, Jesse increased its speed even more. In a matter of minutes the little drone was speeding toward the Pine Hills mound.
The drone skirted the tree line and Jon noted out loud that the target area was about to come into view. The drone slowed its approach and Jesse began to take pictures. He was preparing to take the final batch when a strange thing occurred. Pop. Pop. BOOM! BOOM! There were popping sounds and loud booms to be heard. There were other noises too, and strange streaks of light began to fly past the drone. “Argh! Someone’s shooting at my drone!” Jesse frantically began to manipulate the small aircraft’s controls. “But I got the pictures!”
Jon was just about to ask what was happening when he realized that the sounds were gunfire. “Get out of there, Jesse!”
“Approaching 500 feet and still climbing, heading straight this way,” said Jesse.
“Did you happen to see who was shooting?” Lang was shocked and surprised.
“I saw a handful of people,” said Jesse. “But I didn’t recognize anyone. It happened too fast to get a good look. We’ll need to hook up to a computer when the drone gets back.”
A few minutes later they were in Theodore Lang’s house armed with cups of black coffee. Jesse hooked a USB and HDMI cable to Mr. Lang’s laptop. He entered the proper folder and found a picture-viewer application. “These are the final pictures,” said Jesse. “You can see your mound. You can also see people in the process of trying to blast my drone to smithereens. You know any of them?”
Theodore Lang looked at the pictures in disbelief. Yes, he very clearly recognized one of them: Jane Blackmon, shotgun in hand. If Jane was on his property shooting at Jesse’s drone—or anything else, for that matter,—something was terribly wrong. Lang was surprised that she missed her target.
“We’re in danger,” said Lang. “We’re close enough that they could walk here in minutes. Jesse, copy everything to my laptop and then go. Go home or wherever you need to go, just get out of here. And take this,” said Lang, handing the young man a one-hundred dollar bill.
“Boss, what’s wrong?” Jon was still shaken over the sounds of the shotgun evidently being fired in anger.
Theodore Lang pitched his keys to Jonty. “Jon, I need you to drive me to town. I need to speak with Sheriff Barton. Immediately. First, go to the end of the hallway, and get those two shotguns. Put them in the back seat of my truck.” He gestured toward the hallway.
“Oh, and Jon, text Israel and Ramon and tell them to go home for the day.”
“On it, Boss.” He headed toward the weapons as Lang shut the computer down and closed its lid. He slid the laptop into a trash bag so it wouldn’t get wet, and he went outside to his truck.
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