Participants

Emma

Summary

Emma is conducting her routine patrol along Fire Tower Road in the dense pine forest on a hot July afternoon when she notices her unnaturally quiet surroundings. Suspicious sounds and smells in the air draw her near a recently made vehicle trail deep in the forest, so she follows it cautiously and spots an illicit operation hidden in a clearing. She sees six men and a few white, unmarked panel trucks with obscured company logos. Two men are in Tyvek suits unloading and burying 55-gallon chemical drums marked 'XK-47'. One is using a bulldozer to dig the disposal pit, a man managing inventory, and finally a man with an assault rifle and an earpiece providing security.

She eavesdrops from a hiding spot. Apparently, the crew is cleaning up evidence from a recent explosion at "Building 7". There's mention of other dump sites and efforts to avoid regulatory scrutiny from OSHA and federal investigators. The appear to be under orders to stay quiet and finish quickly, and they're clearly aware that whatever they're doing is a hell of a crime.

Emma sticks aorund as long as she can until a startled deer crashes through the forest, nearly compromising her position and drawing the attention of the rifleman. She stays calm under pressure and takes advantage of the commotion caused by the deer to slip away, then she returns to the ranger statio to log the coordinates of the dump site and make plans to take action.

That evening, Emma contacts Medina and brings him to investigate the site. Medina detects that the buried chemicals smell "sweet-sick, metallic, oily," like "cleaning solvent got a fucking dead body dumped in it," keying in on its innate wrongness that suggests Wyrm corruption rather than normal industrial waste. They agree to develop a plan to extract the barrels before rain spreads contamination, spiritually cleanse both the chemicals and contaminated earth, then dispose of neutralized materials through proper hazmat channels while investigating the corporate conspiracy. Medina volunteers his own resources from Bellfort Diesel to empower and equip any clean up efforts and reminds Emma that multiple contacts in the Sept can 'borrow' his equipment to this end.

Log

(Medina - 02:24 PM) Emma's morning patrol route along the Fire Tower Road takes her past a section of dense pine forest where the canopy blocks most of the early sunlight. It's supposed to be quiet out here, past the birdsong, the wind through the trees, and occasionally the distant rumble of logging trucks on the farm to market road.

But today, the soundscape is different. At first, Emma might think what she's hearing is those logging trucks - they're expected. But it sounds off. Different. Enough to make any rational person pause and listen to what doesn't sound typical. And as that peculiar detail strikes her, the next thing she notices is the absence of birdsong, ergo the absence of birds, and then as she concentrates, the rumble of 'logging trucks' is less of an engine and more like a mechanical whine. She smells the acrid bite of diesel exhaust cutting through the forest air once the strange situation informs her next breath. Her sharp eyes pluck out a barely-visible trail that was recently made by a large vehicle pushing through, maybe more than one. While the understory of the forest struggles in the July heat, there still are hardy plants, and the usually dense yaupon holly and the bracken ferns lay trampled by tire treads. The carpet of fine pine needles, usually dry and crunchy by this time of year, were obviously churned by the passing of tires.

(Emma - 02:36 PM) Like most days, Emma has a routine that she follows. Things are taken care of at the Ranger Station and then she heads out to actually lay eyes on places to make sure that there's nothing out of place. And most days? There isn't anything out of place. It's quiet, beyond the wildlife and that suits her just fine. It leaves her with her thoughts and the hike she takes toward the Fire Tower is pretty much done on autopilot, since she's made it so many times.

So it might take her a little bit of time to realize that the sounds aren't the same as they usually are. The birdsong is missing and something else has taken its place. She pauses at the edge of some trees, dark eyes scanning the area as she looks around, trying to pinpoint just what is wrong with the picture.

About the time she hears that noise, she notices the underbrush and 'trail' that's been trampled down. Frowning, she edges toward it while still keeping to the treeline.

(Medina - 02:44 PM) As Emma approaches the trampled path deeper into the forest, she catches glimpses through the dense pine branches of something that absolutely does not belong. The noise rings in clearer now, rounding out into the grinding of some kind of machinery, not the engine rumble of logging trucks. Through gaps in the pine, the holly and heat-wilting fern, she can just make out flashes of white and yellow vehicles, maybe work trucks, moving about in the distance. Far away enough to not quite make out details, and in exchange, likely also to not be noticed, herself. Proximity will come with its price, but also its rewards.

The sharp chemical smell is stronger if she focuses on it, mixed with diesel exhaust and something else that just so burns the nose. Dark smoke starts rising from somewhere ahead, wispy tufts that bear the ominous, oily color that speaks of burning petroleum. She can hear voices. At least three different men are talking, though their words are muffled by distance and the sound of whatever machinery they're running. One voice sounds agitated, maybe giving orders.

Whatever they're up to, the thick yaupon and pine branches is blocking her view of just exactly what it is they're doing. She'll need to get closer or find a better vantage point to see the full scope of whatever's happening in that clearing ahead.

<OOC> Emma says, "How close is all this to the fire watch tower?"

<OOC> Medina says, "The fire tower is close enough to potentially give you a great vantage point. It's a few hundred yards through the trees, but from up there, you'd have a clear view down into their clearing, but you'd be pretty exposed. If they have someone posted as a lookout the tower would be an obvious place to watch. If things go sideways, the tower has limited escape routes while alternatively giving you, well, a tower to shoot from! Alternatively, if you try to work your way closer through the treeline that's also possible. It'd be harder to see details, but give you much better concealment and, if things go sideways, more than one escape route. So each option is open to you, it's a matter of tradeoffs."

(Emma - 03:01 PM) The chemical smell has Emma wrinkling her nose as it reaches her. It also has her clenching her jaw as she moves through the trees, slipping through them as quietly as she can so that she can edge her way forward. This is the first time she's come across people messing around in the forest like this and she's not happy about it. There's a brief look back toward the Firewatch Tower, consideration given to it for a moment, because she knows she'd have a clear view.

The thought of heading that way is dismissed, though, since the clearing around it would leave her exposed and she has no idea if whoever the people are have stationed lookouts around.

At least with all the machinery noise, they're not likely to hear any rustling in the underbrush as she moves. And the color of her uniform means that she mostly blends in with the forest around her. Time to be a little stealthy, if she can.

(Medina - 03:21 PM) Emma's careful approach through the trees pays off. As she moves, the radio on her belt pinches her skin and reminds her - she occasionally gets routine check-ins from the station every two or three hours and one is due in around five to ten minutes. She has a choice to make, then: turning it off and taking her time (and coming up with why she didn't check in) versus acting swiftly to get in and out. And while she makes that decision, she's concealed behind a thick stand of pine. She gets a clear view of the operation about fifty yards ahead and the source of that smoke: the emissions of a diesel machine running hot and dirty.

Three unmarked panel trucks are parked in a hastily-cleared area, their rear doors open. A small bulldozer, the one belching exhaust under its strenuous work, is digging what looks like a disposal pit while two men covered wrist to wrist and head to toe in white Tyvek suits and respirators roll fifty-gallon drums off the truck beds! The drums bear faded industrial labels. She can make out "XK-47" and the presence of shipping tags but not what the latter say.

One man keeps checking his watch and radio, clearly agitated about timing, as he looks up periodically to the firewatch tower. It seems Emma made the right choice: they ARE paying attention up there.

And then there's a fourth man who is positioned with a clear view of the nearby access road, holding what is /definitely/ an assault rifle. She can only see him from behind, but she recognizes the stock of that rifle all the same even if she just sees a snippet of it, blocked by the angle and his body. He's scanning the treeline, thankfully in the wrong direction for now.

Emma can count at least six people total, working with the urgency of people who know they're breaking some serious federal pound me in the ass prison laws. This isn't corporate contractors following environmental protocols, this is an armed cleanup crew destroying evidence. So far, though, they're focused on their work and the road approach. So long as she stays un-noticed... Things should be okay. But one mis-step and she'll find herself outnumbered by people who have clearly anticipated interference.

(Emma - 03:32 PM) Once she's got a decent spot, Emma crouches down so that she can watch. She's not stupid enough to move closer, especially after seeing the guy with the assault rifle. A quick look at her watch has her frowning before she reaches to turn her radio off. Alerting them to her presence isn't something she wants to do and the squawking of her radio will surely do that as soon as it crackles to life.

So she stays crouched down and watching, taking in as much detail as she can to file away so that she can pass it on. And looking pissed off all the while that someone would dare dump stuff in her forest. And, yes, she considers it hers. There's that temptation to rush out and face them, but she knows it would be a bad idea. And since it's not the day and age of smart phones that can record everything, the best she can do is watch and take mental notes.

(Medina - 04:08 PM) With her radio silenced, Emma buy sherself the time to really observe. So she gets a much clearer picture of the operation, where the men in Tyvek suits are being extremely careful with the drums as they go to bury them. Seems this crew has just gotten started burying the barrels.

Emma watches. There's one guy with a clipboard checking off each barrel as it goes into the pit. The bulldozer operator keeps the engine running but periodically shuts down the digging to let the disposal crew work. During one of these quiet moments -- quiet anyway due to the lack of bulldozer engine -- she overhears some conversation.

"Jesus," one of them complains, "How much more of this shit do we have to dump?" It's a valid complaint: it's like ninety fuckin' degrees out here, that Tyvek suit must be an oven. He momentarily removes his respirator to get some less stuffy air, and as he does, Emma can see that there are chemical burns reddening his mouth and nose. He must've been exposed at some point recently and tried to contain it. He regrets trying to get 'fresh' air, because it isn't, not here. He puts the respirator right back on.

"Everything from Building 7," comes another's answer. "We have until noon to clear this batch and get to the next site."

"Main office is really freaking out about this, huh? First they shut down the whole night shift, now we're out here playing cleanup crew."

One of the others cuts in like the complainer is just, mentally deficient or somethign: "The hell do you /expect/, Dembinski? The plant fucking /blew up/, do you think they're going to just hold still for OSHA and the investigators? Matter of time before the articles roll out. Wonder what kind of spin they paid for."

"Just move the drums and keep your mouth shut," warns the guy with the rifle over his shoulder, still watching the access road. "If anyone comes asking questions, we were never here." His slow sweep of the treeline is methodical. Gotta be private security. Maybe a military background. EIthe rway, some kind of professional. Emma's sharp eye catches that he's waering an earpiece whose coil disappears down his shirt.

"What about that ranger station? Someone's gonna notice all these tire tracks eventually."

"That's why you -keep a move on-."

Emma also has time to observe the trucks. No visible license plates on the backs. A compressor paint job has made each car impatiently white, but she can see, juuuust barely, the impression of painted-over vinyl lettering. She can't quite make it out entirely, but the lingering imprint of the painted-over company masthead has '...ILCO' over one truck door.

They make quick work. At their current pace, they'll be done and gone within the hour.

(Emma - 04:17 PM) The conversation is welcome. It gives Emma a little more insight on what's going on and why. She doesn't look happy when they mention moving to another site, but she's not going to do anything to give away where she's hiding. She listens to them bitch and moan, while continually scanning the area to look things over. The guy with the assault rifle is of particular interest, considering it looks as though he's got the training to be a real issue if it were to come to that. And if he has an earpiece, it means there are others nearby that do, as well.

So she stays where she is, covered by the underbrush and shadows of the trees, giving silent thanks for the fact that she doesn't mind insects as a centipede wanders its way across one of her hands. She looks tempted to shake her hand to get it off, but resists the movement.

(Medina - 04:37 PM) As the minutes pass, it's clear the crew's getting antsy. Emma can hear it in their voices as the work drags on in the heat. "Seriously though, how much longer?" one of them complains, pulling at his Tyvek suit. "I signed up to move chemicals, not bury evidence. I don't wanna go to fuckin' jail."

"Relax, nobody's going to jail. We're almost done," the guy with the clipboard answers, checking off another drum. "Just the Sheldon Road facility left after this."

"Nobody IMPORTANT is going to jail. What happens when OSHA does show up and they start asking why half the night shift is missing? What if-—"

"Shut up and work," the rifle guy cuts him off. "We've got a schedule to keep."

That's when the sound of snapping branches crashes through the forest off in the distance to Emma's left. The frantic thrashing of something crashing through the brushcracks through the air like a gunshot, and the man with his rifle immediately swings his gun towards the sound, his whole body jolting into high alert.

Emma sees it's a white tailed deer racing through the foiliage, spooked by something deeper in the forest. The rifle guy, with a different vantage point, doesn't seem to see that, and so he's moving in her direction.

""Probably just an animal," clipboard guy says, but his voice has lost its casual tone. The gruntworkers in the Tyvek pause momentarily to crane their necks in the direction of the sound.

"Maybe," Rifle guy replies, still focused on the wrong patch of forest, his range of vision uncomfortably close to Emma. "Wrap it up anyway. We've been here long enough."

(Emma - 04:47 PM) The sudden crashing of the deer through the brush startles Emma. She just about pops up from where she's crouched down, but stops herself just in time. Likely a second or two before the guy with the rifle swings around to look in that direction. While he's scanning over the trees, she shrinks back just a little, settling further into the shadows without moving too much, or making any noise. Getting shot at this point would really suck. She does, however, let her hand settle over her sidearm in case she needs to pull it free.

She's getting impatient now and silently wills them to hurry and finish what they're doing so that she can make her way back to the Ranger Station. Because now these barrels are going to have to be dealt with and that's going to take some organizing, as well. They're all way closer to the forest caern than she's comfortable with, even if it's still miles away from this spot.

Emma spends a Willpower and rolls Wits.

(You're powerfully tempted to stick around but manage to wrench yourself out of the situation with the deer as your distraction cover.)

(Emma rolls Dexterity + Stealth for 4 successes. Detection dice were rolled - they don't notice her.)

(Medina - 05:18 PM) Emma is able to slip away through the forest with practiced quiet thanks to the deer's distraction. Her careful footsteps put distance between herself and the disposal crew, the sounds of their operation fading behind her.

When she gets back to the ranger station, she flips her radio back on, she's confronted about her having missed the expected check-in, but a cover story is easy enough to come up with: she was helping some lost hikers find their way back to the main trail. It all must seem so pointless and frustrating against what sorts of calls she knows she needs to make given her background on the force, both literal and figurative calls. After all, she's just witnessed federal crimes on federal land with what sounds like missing persons involved...

She marks the coordinates of the contamination site on her patrol map and starts planning her return trip for later once she's sure the crew has moved on to whatever they're doing next. While what all she will find once she has the opportunity to investigate unfettered remains to be seen, one thing is for certain. Someone with resources and firepower is trying very hard to cover up something that went very wrong at an industrial facility. And now they're dumping the evidence in her forest. Just what sort of rabbit hole did this park ranger find and how far down does it go?

Post-Scene Log

(Emma - 10:54 PM) It wasn't until after her shift (and after she'd gone back to check the site where the barrels were buried) that Emma called Medina, asking if he could come out to the Ranger Station. She told him to park there, then make his way to the lake at the Firewatch Tower, which is where she'd be waiting.

By the time he arrives, he'll find Emma sitting near the Tower, having already changed out of her uniform and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, along with her hiking boots. She's also got a backpack with her, her rifle and her sidearm. She's just finishing taking a drink of water from a water bottle and is twisting the cap back into place before tucking it away into her backpack. The whole time, she's constantly scanning the area, as if she's looking for something in particular. Or just keeping watch. She's alert.

(Medina - 10:59 PM) Medina had work obligations to wrap up and the shame is he doesn't really ask questions -- at least, not in this context. When he's told to show up, he just does, and short of being explicitly told something to make him suspect something wrong is afoot or that he should hurry, it doesn't occur to him to do so. Regardless, he follows instructions after he finishes whatever she'd caught him in the middle of, parking the service truck. He follows the path to the firewatch tower on foot. He's in his casual clothes, and when he sees her backpack and her rifle and so on, he pauses. Half wonders what the issue is, but patience will tell him enough. So he nears her. "Sup, hermana?"

(Emma - 11:05 PM) She'll likely hear him before she sees him, so Emma's gaze swings in the direction of the trail, catching sight of Medina as he approaches. "Hey," the greeting is called out as she gets to her feet and picks up the backpack to put it on. Once done that, she grabs her rifle and heads toward him.

"So, earlier today, I was out this way during my shift and I heard noises. Noises that don't belong this far out in the forest. I followed them that way," she points off in the direction through the trees. "and came across a bunch of trucks and machinery and men. Some were wearing Tyvek suits and respirators. They were dumping barrels into a hole in the ground. One of the guys took a break, took his mask off and it looked like he had chemical burns. I didn't get closer, because they had a guard with an assault rifle. He was wearing an earpiece, so there had to be others in the area, too."

(Medina - 11:10 PM) Medina isn't trying to go unnoticed, so indeed, she sees him before he sees her. He flashes her a quick smile, but it's short-lived, killed by the sight of her rifle because the situation suggests a need for it. So he wastes no time asking questions: he just listens, cutting the distance between himself and her. His head tilts just so. When she mentions the direction, he looks, and when he looks, he draws in a breath through his nose, testing the air, but not gathering much in this homid form. A small frown finds its way on his face moments before she talks about suits and respirators, and his eyes snap back to her. She has his full attention. "Dumping ... Sealed barrels, emptying the barrels?" A pause, then, "Trucks and machinery - did you get a license plate, make and model, anything like that? Where'd they go next, did you see?"

(Emma - 11:15 PM) "They were sealed. The trucks looked painted over, so the only letters I could make out looked like 'ilco'. Not sure if that'll be helpful at all. They called one of the guys Dembinski. I would have gotten closer, or stuck around longer, but a deer spooked and crashed through the trees near to where I was hiding, so the guy with the assault rifle started looking in that direction a little too closely. I slipped back and away from there and headed back to the station. They were watching the tower here, so I didn't even want to go up there until they were gone."

She gestures for him to follow and starts toward the trees, heading to where she'd found the group earlier. "I want to tag the trees in this area, so that people know to stay away from the spot. At least our people. Most visitors to the park don't make it out this far, so I'm not as worried about them. But a lot of ours go running through the area, especially in different forms. I don't want them stumbling on whatever crap was dumped."

(Medina - 11:25 PM) "-ill-co." Medina repeats the partial company name. "Utilco, maybe, I don't know, too many companies end in '-co'. Chemilco, I don't know." But the name of the company is more or less banter to him for now. "Dembinski. Sounds like a Polack." He takes a few more steps down towards where she's indicated, then looks over his shoulder to check that it's just him and her in this stretch of the forest. He's quiet, listening and waiting. "Yeah," he mutters, "So they elft? Let's go check it out. I take it you want to do that, huh?"

(Emma - 11:30 PM) "You have /no/ idea how hard it was for me not to go back earlier on my own. I went through the rest of my shift, but was antsy the entire time. I wanted to know what they were doing. They talked about another site, too." Emma moves from the clearing and into the trees, easily picking her way over a fallen log. There's no real trail at first. Not until she comes up to the one that was made by the men and their vehicles earlier. Silently, she points toward it, so that Medina can see the direction that it goes in.

"They were still dumping barrels when I slipped off. Honestly, the guy was getting too close and while I'm a good shot, I wasn't trying my luck that it was just him guarding the area. I'm positive that there were more, even if I didn't see them. He looked like hired security and knew what he was doing."

(Medina - 11:38 PM) "Where?" Medina moves off the main trail. He's wearing the black jeans he tends to wear, and a white t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned denim overshirt, the latter of which he takes off. He steps out of his sneakers, tugging off his socks, but the rest of the clothes stay on. He'd dedicated an outfit at some point and doesn't always wear the exact same pieces, so he's taking off what he'd otherwise ruin. He listens as he looks for a place to stash his stuff, finding a patch of yaupon holly to stuff his over-shirt and shoes away. He follows her out of the clearing, then as they approach the trampled, new 'trail' from the ruined forest understory, he pauses to concentrate on shifting after another check around himself. Can't really be too careful, apparently. "Let's see..."

(Emma - 11:45 PM) It's obvious that Emma isn't just going to leave his stuff behind. So, she gathers it up and tucks it into her backpack, along with whatever else is in there. "See the path?" It's not really a path, just trampled ground. It's nothing like the path that leads up to the Firewatch Tower, which is used on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times in a day.

As Emma moves along the 'path', she stops every once in awhile to tag a tree, wrapping a piece of dark blue material around it. It doesn't stand out, but it also doesn't blend in completely, so anyone looking for it is going to notice it.

"Down there a ways. They cleared out some underbrush and smaller trees and dug a hole to dump the barrels in. I don't know how many. I don't think anyone should be touching them without the proper protective gear."

(Medina - 11:48 PM) "Oh, thanks." Medina hadn't thought to ask her to carry his stuff. But he sees what passes for a 'path', and accompanies her down it. When she indicates just beyond, he steps ahead of her. "Alright, stay behind me," he says, as he moves. "I'll fuck with it, it'll grow back, whatever." It takes a moment. At first, he makes a quick, pained noise he cuts himself off from expressing as soon as it starts, wincing. He rolls his neck and shoulders and tries again. A moment later and his stature surges to Glabro, gaining a good half foot in height and the bulk of his near-man form, the crack and pop of tissue and bone a sickening sound for the uninitiated, but neither of them are. He uses the form as a stepping stone towards lupus, and in practically the blink of an eye, he's taken his lupus form. Medina is small for a wolf - a Mexican wolf, about the size of a german shepherd, with a sandy, earthen coat pattern that makes him look like an oversized coyote at a glance. His proportions are, of course, all wolf, but the uneducated might mistake him otherwise. He goes on ahead down the path.

It seems that in the interim, the crew had buried what they came to hide, and so the patch of earth they'd churned is clear as day, like a fresh grave, grassless ground disturbing the forest floor otherwise carpted with pine-straw. He circles the disturbed patch of earth as he sniffs the air, the ground. They must have driven out the same way they came in, as there's no secondary trampled path here. Whatever Medina might think of it while he can't speak stiffens his overall body language, but his irritability is no surprise.

(Emma - 11:56 PM) That shift from one form to another is something she's seen before, but sounds that accompany it always make her wince. It just sounds painful. That pained noise, however brief it might be, gets a look from her, yet she doesn't say anything or ask if he's okay. Some things you just don't question. Dark eyes study him in his lupus form, not having seen it before now. And when he starts up the path ahead of her? She just follows and continues to tag a few more trees. Once they're done looking at the site for everything was buried, she'll make a wider circle around the area and tag those trees, as well.

Stopping just inside the cleared area, Emma frowns as she looks around. "I don't see any other path out of here, so they must have gone back the way they came. I don't think this was the only area they were going to dump stuff. They were talking about an explosion and something about missing night shift. Then they mentioned a Sheldon Read Facility. Sheldon Road Facility? One of those. Another place they were getting chemicals from? The air smelled bad here."

(Medina - 12:11 AM) The site is big. Emma had seen multiple cars, and while she hadn't watched every single barrel get lowered into the excavation pit, she did see quite a few, and of course, that it was a multi-man job including that bulldozer. So it's easy to say there's probably somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty drums underfoot. When Medina finds a smell that overwhelms his canine senses his hackles rise, the scruff of his neck standing on end -- and then he sneezes. It'd be funny if it weren't for the circumstances. His gold eyes flit over to her as she shares the details, and he sniffs at the air. He lifts himself up ont his hind legs to sniff at the air again, then drops down to follow whatever trail is leading him to a tree. What she's seeing him cue in on is the place that guy with the rifle was standing. Once he investigates that patch of earth he test the air in a growing little radius until whatever details he's picking up fade out.

He's back on two feet before Emma knows it, assuming his breed form like blinking. The clothes that'd previously disappeared into his fur are right back on him, minus the shoes and the denim shirt. He steps over to her to retrieve 'em, and the expression on his face is the deliberately flat, blank look he wears when he's trying not to be as angry or upset as he really is. Which is most of the time.

"We gotta get this shit out of here before it rains. Feels like six, eight people? Somewhere in there. I smelled gun oil, and then this chemical you're talking about. Whatever's in those barrels, it smells like... Sweet-sick, metallic...Oily, clingy. Like when something dies and breaks down, but it's rotting in something chemical." He looks to the way they came from. "How much did you see them put down here? I could use one of the box trucks I'm working on, and then digging it out..."

They had used a bull-dozer.

"Well. I don't exactly have construction equipment. But we get that shit out of there, cleanse the earth, ...Cleanse the /barrels/ and then dispose of the neutralized stuff professionally. Maybe Gabriel or Frankie knows someone or can buy someone who can take them in as industrial waste once we've cleansed them."

(Emma - 12:23 AM) Emma watches as he moves around sniffing the air, her gaze following him. She doesn't even so much as blink when he shifts back, but hands over his other clothing when he comes over to get them. "There were six men that I could see. Like I said, I figured there were a few more guards, I just wasn't sure where they were and I didn't want to poke around too much and risk running into them. Getting shot.." She shakes her head and then gestures toward the hole that's been filled in. "I would've ended up in there with whatever they were dumping. I got lucky."

She swings off the backpack and digs around further inside of it, eventually pulling out a camera so that she can take some pictures. "I have no clue what they were dumping, but it's not going to be good for the area. I knew that right away. One of the guys was pretty concerned about how illegal all this was and the fact that he didn't want to end up in jail."

Emma frowns a little as she looks around, "They had one of those small digger things, so they weren't digging the hole by hand. We need one of those, or we need a bunch of people to dig all this up. But you're right, we have to get it out of here and cleaned up. I don't like that the caern is around here - even if it's not close by - that bothers me."

(Medina - 12:36 AM) "I don't recommend getting shot, no." Medina's attempts at levity are half-hearted and specifically for her sake. He tugs on his shirt with quick, choppy movements, his bridled anger robbing his ability to play it as cool as he'd like. He looks off at the disturbed earth, the ground that is so recently overturned to bury someone else's evidence. He tugs on his socks, shoves on his shoes. "Whatever it is, it's ... It smells like a cleaning solvent got a fucking dead body dumped in it, and it got left out in the sun. Like cleaning chemicals /and/ rot. So wahtever that is, between the smell and you telling me about chemical burns and Tyvek, ..." He frowns, then fixes his hair. His hair doesn't need fixing, of course, as usual. The tic just keeps playing itself over and over, a methodical and repetitive self-calming fidget not unlike a spider cleaning its mandibles.

"It sounds like whatever they were cooking up went sideways. Like an industrial accident and that..." He points with his free hand, "...Is what they need to hide. Maybe these missing people are workers that got killed or hurt in an accident that prompted all this. Maybe Sheldon Road's the source? But it's a cover-up for sure..." He's quiet for a moment, then he decides it's time to leave. He doesn't want to look at it. So he heads impatiently off down the same path Emma led him down to get here, expecting her to follow.

"So they painted over the truck, you said? And there's around eight people, at least one of 'em armed. So that tells /me/, they're not just doing this /once/, what do you think? And whatever happened, it was a big fucking deal."

(Emma - 12:46 AM) The whole time Medina talks, Emma is silent, although her eyes get a little wider as something occurs to her. "Wait, you think there're bodies in there? Someone dumped bodies and they're using the chemicals to get rid of them? They were taking about how the night shift went missing. What the fuck.. what is wrong with people?" And as he heads back along the path, she hurries to keep up with him.

"I thought about calling some guys at the station that I still talk to, but I wasn't sure having the police and whoever else roaming around out here was a great idea. So I called you, first. We should definitely be telling the others, though. I need to make sure to warn people to stay away from this area until it's cleaned up. What a mess. And we need to find the guys that dumped everything here. One of them was in charge. He had a clipboard and was keeping track of what they were doing."

(Medina - 12:54 AM) "No," Medina shakes his head, and then he pauses. "Well, I don't know that there -aren't- bodies in those barrels," he admits. "But what..." He frowns, then he looks around at the tree canopy, then back to Emma. "It's hard to put to words what I'm smelling because you and I don't really... English doesn't do the trick. I'm saying there's something..." He tries Spanish out instead: "Something wrong, something that eats in there. There's something conceptually rotten, something figuratively dead. It's like a cleaner, but it isn't." He turns to mind where he's walking and picks the pace back up down the trail. "If you warn people wouldn't you draw attention to it? I mean, you do you. But let's try to get this shit dug out of there and cleansed, Etienne has all those tarps, I've got a truck...Enough of us can dig. We can hit it at night." He pauses at the mention that they need to figure out which way these dudes went. He pauses, then casts his eyes to the trail. "Shit. Fuck." He draws in a frustrated breath and growls it out. "I used to could just find whoever I fucking wanted," he mutters to himself. "You get license plates or anything like that?"

"Sheldon Road," he mutters. "We could look into companies that have those letters in them on Sheldon Road."

(Emma - 01:02 AM) Emma shakes her head, "I didn't see plates. Or I didn't think to look at them, which was stupid on my part. But if they painted over the trucks, the plates likely wouldn't have been legit, anyhow. They didn't want anyone knowing where they were originating from." She reaches up to push some of her hair back as she looks around again. "No, I don't want cops all over this area. We need to clean this up ourselves. If we can get enough people to do the digging and loading and stuff and then cleansing the area..."

The explanation in Spanish has her nodding. Sometimes it's just easier to hear it that way. "That makes sense. Sounds like it erodes stuff. I wonder what they're making at that plant and why they feel the need to bury it out here. Use a rock quarry and dump it down into the water there. Less likely to have people wandering around there."

The mention of Sheldon Road gets a nod, "We should look into that, too. Find out where it is, then maybe take a drive to check it out. They talked about another facility there. They're planning on dumping more of that stuff somewhere else, but they didn't say where."

(Medina - 01:09 AM) Medina listens, and then he arives at the same spot he'd met up with her at. His hand moves to his jeans pocket to fish out the keys to his truck. "Could go to a rental center and get something like a little skid-steer and tow it here to do the most of the digging," he thinks aloud, his mind still on how to take immediate action. When she wonders why they didn't do something smarter, he shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't know, but maybe convenience over safety, or they have limited time. People aren't exactly smart when they're rushed. So whatever happened must've been bad enough that they felt like they needed to do shit /immediately/." He looks to Emma. "You get a chance to tell anyone else yet?"

(Emma - 01:15 AM) "No. I ran into them early in my shift and then I had to work the rest of the day. I actually missed a check-in while I was watching them. Lied and told them later that I was helping lost hikers. Anyway. I called you a little before my shift was done, but I haven't spoken to anyone else. I'll pass the word around, though. I need to tag the rest of the trees, so that people know to avoid the area while we work on getting it cleaned up. Who knows what those chemicals could do to someone? I worry about the wildlife out here." Emma sighs as she speaks, head bowing a little as she looks toward the ground. For a moment or two, she stays like that before looking back up to him again. "I should let everyone know. Then we can find a group to help get these dug up and it all cleaned up. That needs to be done soon. If you need money for anything, let me know."

(Medina - 01:28 AM) Medina fidgets his keys from one hand to the other and walks toward the truck. "Pass the word around, yeah. Tod has access to the shop, so long as he doesn't fucking break anything he can't fix he can use the service truck and the flatbed truck. I care more that this shit gets done fast and done right, then if it gets done with me in the picture." He approaches his truck and stops by it, turning to look to Emma. "I really think it needs to be done before it rains. Who knows how well sealed those drums are. That shit doesn't need to get into the soil any more than it probably already is." You paged Etienne with 'what time zone are you in'

(Emma - 01:31 AM) Emma makes a sound of agreement, "I think we're supposed to have a dry spell for the next little while, so rain shouldn't be an issue. But I'll check again once I'm home, then start making calls and stuff. We'll get it taken care of, then start looking into the rest of it. I don't like people messing around in my forest. Especially with this type of shit. I'm pretty sure if anyone had disturbed them, they would have ended up dead. We need to find out who this is."