House Down Dirt Lane

By Todd Hugie

". . . truly an unforgettable novel." -Annika Carlson, Author of the upcoming Age of the Pleiades Books

"House Down Dirt Lane twines together the curiosity and shenanigans of local kids with the unknown, unseen world of nuclear fission. . . . An excellent debut novel as well as a good read." -V

• Language: English
• Publisher: Koehler Books
• Release date: Jun 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798888243688

Todd Hugie

Residing in Utah's picturesque Cache Valley, Todd Hugie draws inspiration from the beauty around him, supported by his loving wife, Sandra, and their five wonderful children, their dog, and their mischievous cat. His diverse experiences, including an adventurous childhood, serving in the Marine Corps, and earning degrees in computer science and library and information science, shape his imaginative storytelling. He currently works at Utah State University Libraries as the director of information technology and has been involved in running and race directing for over forty years. This is his first suspense novel.

Book preview

PREFACE

Dear Reader,

In this gripping and suspenseful novel, fiction blends with real-life events, creating a fast-paced story. I, my beloved sisters, and our friends experienced what you are about to read.

During my high school years, several of my closest friends’ lives were cut short by cancer, possibly linked to nuclear fallout from more than one thousand US government atomic and nuclear tests conducted between 1951 and 1992 at the Nevada Test Site. The impact of these tests, previously shrouded in secrecy, was unveiled during a 1997 congressional hearing.

I will never forget my wedding day when I embraced the father of one of my best friends. Tears filled our eyes as we held each other, not needing words to convey our shared sentiment: Kevin should have been there, sharing in the joys and sorrows of life, just as I was.

The creature in this book symbolizes cancer, an insidious disease that we try desperately to defeat but relentlessly returns and shows no mercy.

I dedicate this book to my dear friends Kevin, Tracy, Jon S., Tammy, John H., and Brad. Each fought bravely against cancer, and all but Brad lost the battle at an early age. To my sixteen-year-old grandnephew, Cohen (Coco) Jones, your valiant battle against cancer inspires us all. For almost three long years, you’ve fought with an unbreakable spirit, a testament to your character and strength. Keep fighting, Coco, and know the love and support of your family is with you every step of the way. To Jeff, departed too early due to other events, this book is also dedicated.

Sincerely,

Todd Hugie

PROLOGUE

Our love endures obstacles, our hope cannot be shattered, and our spirits are unconquerable.

—U

NKNOWN

Spring 1970

The old couple disappeared without a trace, leaving behind their furnished home. Once abandoned, the house down the dirt lane and its contents quickly rotted and decayed.

The late spring midnight wind blew, whisking dust and debris down the unpaved road. The leafless limbs of the ancient oak tree scraped and groaned against the roof. Dry oak leaves from the previous autumn fluttered through shattered windows, swirling past shards of glass.

Dark clouds flew across the sky, propelled by the strong breeze darkening a once moonlit night. The scraping tree limbs on the old house pierced the silent night. Shy crickets and frogs fell silent, sensing that something in the shadows was hunting them. The wind blew until just before midnight, when the full moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting a ghostly glow. The crickets resumed their songs as the wind became still and the once groaning tree ceased moving.

A new sound shattered the peacefulness. Scaaaaaa rach! Scaa raaaaaaaach! Tick! Tick! Tick!

This wasn’t the wind or the oak tree scraping against the roof. No, these sounds came from the musty, damp cellar, deep within the darkness.

Jack, his sisters, Dawn and Isabelle, and their friends had just arrived, coasting to a stop on their Schwinn Stingray bikes. They slowly walked up the broken, weed-covered path toward the home. Approaching the front door, their courage began to waver. The creaky porch steps echoed through the still night air. They couldn’t shake the feeling that something was in the house, watching and waiting for them. However, their curiosity pushed them forward toward the unknown.

PART I

CHAPTER 1

Plumbbob Hood

The blinding flash,

Fireball’s splash,

Shockwave’s large squall,

Debris will fall,

Land becomes ash.

July 5, 1957

T

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ECRET

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EVADA

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EST

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ITE

, A

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9;

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LUMBBOB

H

OOD

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UCLEAR

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ETONATION

Samantha Livingston had become fascinated with atomic physics during high school and aimed to serve her country as a nuclear scientist. She graduated with physics and chemistry degrees at twenty-one, upon which the Central Intelligence Agency immediately hired her to work as a nuclear analyst.

She studied the effects of radioisotope fallout and its impact on humans and the environment. Her reputation quickly spread throughout the CIA as a dependable, ethical, and honest person. And so, Samantha was ordered to the Nevada Test Site, the location of more than two hundred nuclear weapon tests. Along with at least two thousand Marines, she boarded a bus at 1900 hours on July 4, toward Area 9 to witness one of US history’s largest nuclear atmospheric test explosions.

But this would be no ordinary detonation; it was Plumbbob Hood, a seventy-four-kiloton thermonuclear bomb, or what became known as a nuclear bomb, one thousand times more powerful than an atomic bomb and the most powerful bomb tested at the Nevada Test Site.

It was scheduled to detonate at 4:40 a.m., Pacific Daylight Time, on July 5, 1957, only a few hours after the bus doors opened. After Samantha stepped off the vehicle, she stood on sandy desert soil. Somewhere out there in the dark Hood was suspended on a balloon connected to three cables attached to a winching device secured to the desert floor.

Samantha couldn’t contain her enthusiasm, having arrived at the desolate reaches of Area 9, the Yucca Flats region, deep within the Nevada Test Site. She knew it was close to a covert CIA base known only as Paradise Ranch, or, as some at the agency had called it, Area 51. She had heard whispers of the classified nature of the area and knew it was the CIA’s best-kept secret. All she could gather was that it was the most highly guarded project. Even the mention of it was met with hushed tones and sworn secrecy amongst her colleagues.

In the dark landscape, a young Marine stood nearby. Are you ready for this, ma’am? he whispered.

I’ve been waiting a long time to witness this, Samantha replied, trying to mask the nervousness in her voice.

Just remember to keep your eyes on the ground and don’t look directly at the blast, another Marine warned. I’ve witnessed a few of these, but this one will be one to remember. The nuclear bomb being detonated today is called Hood, part of Operation Plumbbob, a series of twenty-nine nuclear tests. They’ve told us this will be the biggest bomb tested to date. I know we’ve signed papers not to discuss this, but maybe someday we will have stories to tell.

Another voice broke in. Hello, ma’am. I’m Captain Wilson, your escort.

Samantha saw a tall man standing before her in full Marine Corps gear.

Captain Wilson, it’s an honor to meet you. Please call me Samantha. Ma’am makes me feel old.

Great. Samantha, it is. Captain Wilson shook her hand firmly. I’ve been debriefed on your assignment, and I understand you’ll be joining us in the bunker to observe the detonation.

That’s correct, Samantha affirmed.

She was eager to witness the explosion, but Captain Wilson’s striking looks distracted her. She turned her eyes away from him. I’m particularly interested in studying the dispersal of the explosion cloud into the atmosphere, she said in a stiff tone.

Captain Wilson wondered if something was amiss. He mused, She might have been expecting a higher-ranking officer or a nuclear scientist to greet her off the bus. He didn’t let his thoughts show, instead he assured Samantha that she had the resources to perform her work here and study the explosion.

Well, you’ve come to the right place, he said, leading her to a nearby bunker. We have modern equipment here, and you can observe the detonation. But I must caution you that this is a live test, and safety protocols must always be followed.

I understand, Samantha replied as they entered the bunker.

Stepping inside, she observed rows of monitors displaying different angles of the bomb and a team of scientists and military personnel operating the equipment.

We’re still a few hours away from detonation, the captain said as the countdown began.

Are you ready?

Nodding, Samantha took a deep breath but needed to get away from Captain Wilson to clear her mind. I’m ready and eager. Since we are a few hours away, I’d like to go outside to meet the soldiers. Would that be permitted?

Sure, make yourself at home. Those Marines are well disciplined and respectful. I’m sorry, but there are a few things I need to do in this bunker. Then I’ll come and meet up with you soon.

Samantha left the bunker, walking along the trenches where the soldiers had set up. Soon, she came upon a few men who were engaged in colorful conversation.

With a friendly tone, she introduced herself. Hello, I’m Samantha Livingston. How are you Marines doing this evening?

A tall, young Marine looked her up and down. Hey, guys, look what we have here—a female civilian among us.

Samantha wasn’t sure, but she thought these soldiers might be drunk. How could Marines on duty have alcohol, considering the gravity of their task?

Hey, what are you doing here, sweetheart? one of the soldiers jeered, looking to see if the others were watching him.

I’m here to do my job, just like you, Samantha replied, ignoring how they looked at her.

Girls don’t belong in a dangerous situation like this. This is a job for men, the other soldier chimed in, elbowing one of his buddies. They both laughed, and Samantha noticed the other Marines snickering behind them.

Samantha was petite, standing at just five foot six and weighing a mere one hundred thirty pounds, but her size and age didn’t define her. She quickly assessed the situation and knew she had to gain control quickly. Her CIA training kicked in, and the element of surprise was on her side. Adrenaline was shooting through her, but she knew how to keep calm and control it.

Know your place, Marines, and show some respect, she warned them, her voice calm and steady. I know Marines are known for honor and duty, and you all have been trained to treat others with dignity. Embrace those values and have pride in serving your country.

Two of the soldiers disregarded her words. One of them stepped behind her, grabbing and trapping her arms firmly. The other bent down near her face, his breath hot on her cheek, reeking of alcohol, and leaned in to kiss her.

Samantha was prepared and knew precision was her greatest weapon. A small, carefully placed bomb could be far more effective than a larger one that only came close to its target. She struck the soldier directly in the groin with a swift, precise kick, causing him to double over. Then she used her knee to break his nose. The second soldier hesitated, and Samantha seized her chance. She pulled free, twisting herself as she used her body weight to punch him in the throat. Coughing and spitting, he let go, falling into the sand.

The two soldiers rolled on the ground, trying to recover from their wounds as their buddies stood frozen, surprised by what had happened. Samantha nodded at them and walked away victorious.

You picked on the wrong person, boys, she said, looking back at them.

To ensure that the others wouldn’t dare harass her, she delivered her words in dramatic fashion.

From a distance, Captain Wilson had seen this and came running. What happened here, ma’am? he apologetically asked, his eyes scanning the two Marines sprawled on the ground.

Samantha explained how the soldiers were disrespectful and had attacked her. The captain’s face grew tense, reflecting his anger and displeasure.

Corporal Andersin, go see the medic and make sure you are cared for, he barked. He looked at Corporal White, moaning on the ground. Captain Wilson couldn’t help but smile as he thought, This young lady pounded two Marines.

Both of you, when this exercise is over, meet me by the latrines, he added, his tone firm. I know today’s exercise has everyone on edge, which has caused quite a mess to be cleaned up. Also, you both are on guard duty for the next month and confined to base.

The soldiers nodded weakly, still in pain and groaning on the ground. Samantha watched the captain take charge and was pleased with how quickly justice was served. She was satisfied that these men had just been humiliated in front of their friends. She hoped they had learned a lesson.

Captain Wilson caught up with Samantha with remorse in his voice. Ma’am, I am sorry for my men’s behavior. They are highly trained Marines, and I am disappointed at their actions; there is no excuse.

Samantha turned to face him. I’ve told you before, Captain Wilson, she said, playfulness in her voice, don’t call me ma’am. One more time, and you’ll end up like them.

He chuckled nervously. I’ll make sure to remember that. I hope I never meet you in a dark alley late at night.

Samantha let out a quiet laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She felt a flutter in her chest as she looked at the captain. She found him to be a gentleman despite just meeting him.

As they returned to the observation post, a voice came over the loudspeakers. Detonation will occur in thirty minutes. Get yourselves in your designated area, and prepare as you have been trained.

Captain Wilson teased Samantha. We’d better hurry, ma’am; oh, sorry, I mean Samantha, he said with a smirk.

Samantha rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Yes, you are a quick learner, she shot back, matching his teasing tone. By the way, Captain Wilson, tell me what you can about your Marine Corps career.

She studied him closely as they walked. As an analyst, she had been trained to pay attention to details. She noticed how young the captain looked. He couldn’t be much older than she was, she thought. Also, she observed that he had a well-toned, not bulky, tanned body typical of a fit soldier. He was probably at least six feet tall and likely weighed just over one ninety. Looking into his blue eyes, she felt him to be compassionate, patient, and confident.

There isn’t a lot I can tell you because of the nature of the missions I’ve been involved in, the captain said, his tone turning serious. Like this one, we won’t be able to tell anyone about today or what we will see. We’ve been sworn to top secrecy and have even signed papers never to mention what we witness.

Samantha nodded, understanding the nature of the situation. I can tell you I’ve only been in the Marines for three years, the captain continued. I was trained as a recon ranger and recently became the company commander for this group of Marines here today.

He added, When my time is up in the Marines, I plan to finish my college degree and hope to become a CIA field agent.

That would be great. However, you know the analysts make the CIA what it is today. Samantha grinned. Only a few of us can do that job, so the rest of you become field agents, she added with a quiet laugh.

Captain Wilson enjoyed Samantha’s company. He mentioned that he was pleased to work with her and that this was the best assignment he had been given since joining the Marines.

Samantha blushed. We should hurry and prepare ourselves for the explosion, she urged, attempting to divert her gaze and focus from the captain.

The two quickly approached their designated area in the observation post, taking cover behind a thick concrete wall. Samantha turned to her escort, her heart racing with anticipation. This is it, she said barely above a whisper. I can’t believe we’re about to witness a nuclear detonation.

Captain Wilson nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. We will never get this opportunity again. I’m not sure we will want to after seeing what happens, he said.

They were both focused on the task at hand, but Samantha stole a glance of the captain. He was different; something set him apart from other soldiers she had worked with. She yearned to get to know him better but knew their time was short.

He turned to Samantha and smiled but looked closely at her gaze. There was something in how she looked at him, a more profound connection.

They snapped out of their trances when they heard the countdown. Detonation in five, four, three, two, one!

The air filled with a blinding light. After a few seconds, Samantha started to see one color at a time through the spectrum, even though her eyes were closed. She had never experienced light like this; it was beautiful, so unworldly bright. She squinted and couldn’t believe the sight before her. The intense light penetrated her skin; she could see the blood vessels and bones in her hands.

Suddenly, the sky filled with a massive fireball and an expanding mushroom cloud. Samantha fully opened her eyes and knew that radioactive debris would rise high into the atmosphere. She quickly wrote down her observations.

Then, a deafening boom filled the air, threatening to damage their ears had they not been wearing earplugs. The intense sound sent shockwaves through their bodies. Having spent time on Navy ships, the captain was no stranger to booming cannons, but this was a different level of explosive force. Those mighty ship cannons seemed like nothing more than firecrackers compared to the ear-shattering intensity of this sound.

As the blast wave rippled through the air, the captain and Samantha felt the ground quake and the heat emanating from the explosion, even from their well-protected position. The shockwaves and fire from the bomb destroyed the land around it. Just as quickly, the air reversed, unleashing an equal force that left them breathless.

Samantha could see the mushroom cloud rising into the sky through the dust and debris. The power of a nuclear bomb was a sight she would never forget. The cloud was rising much higher into the atmosphere than she thought possible. She observed the strong winds carrying the radioactive cloud to the northeast and over Area 51. Oh boy, this is going to cause some heads to roll, Samantha thought.

She turned to Captain Wilson. Their eyes locked, and time stood still. They shared a connection that transcended the explosive power they had just witnessed. There was a pull between them that neither could ignore.

Samantha, it’s as if our paths were meant to cross. It was beautiful but at the same time frightening.

Samantha nodded, then turned to take in the scene in front of her before she spoke. I can’t help but think of the consequences of such power. How will the radiation from that one bomb affect people for generations to come? Fallout from these bomb tests can cause cancer, and there have been hundreds of these bomb tests and there will probably be hundreds more in the future.

Captain Wilson agreed. It’s a reminder of our responsibility to use this power wisely. Through wisdom, we need to protect human life and our environment.

They sat silently, taking in the total weight of what they had just witnessed. The captain was also surprised at his admiration for Samantha in their short time together. He knew the chances of seeing her again after this exercise were slim. He couldn’t let that thought dampen the moment; he wanted to enjoy the little time they had left with each other.

As he watched Samantha, her chestnut-colored hair swirled around her shoulders. Her sun-brown skin glowed as if she had just returned from a tropical vacation. Thick, upward-curling lashes framed almond-shaped, chocolate-brown eyes that sparkled with joy and emitted a warm, infectious smile. He knew he had to be cautious, as getting lost in those eyes would be too easy.

Her true essence lay not in her physical appearance but in her remarkable achievements and kind nature. He knew a CIA analyst demanded a sharp and analytical mind. Only a few people could understand her work in nuclear atomic science. He observed how Samantha approached her job with passion and humility.

Samantha, we might not see each other again after this exercise, but I just want to say that it’s been an honor working with you. But now, please excuse me. I need to make sure two Marines are attending to their latrine duty. After this demonstration, I’m sure they have quite a mess to clean up. He smiled.

As they left the observation post, Samantha looked at him and smiled too. I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of an extraordinary journey for both of us, she said, and our paths will cross again sometime in the future.

PART II

Autumn 1969

CHAPTER 2

No Trespassing

Let’s go get duck,

Thick mud and muck,

What is that stink,

The creature’s drink,

Men with no luck.

For weeks, Rex and Mack had planned their duck hunting trip to the western swamps near Brigham City, Utah. They were determined to hunt in the exclusive duck club land, where thousands of ducks and geese were beginning their fall migration. The duck club was renowned for having the best hunting in Utah; but access to the land was costly and restricted to members.

The two men knew the journey into the swamp in the dark morning hours would be dangerous and that stiff penalties were attached to poaching and trespassing. To avoid detection, they struck during the dead of night, when the club’s patrols were at their weakest.

At 3:20 a.m., Rex’s 1959 Chevy Fleetside truck rumbled down a deserted dirt road.

Are you sure we’re going the right way? Rex asked, glancing nervously at the dark, immense swamp surrounding them.

Positive, Mack replied, his voice determined. We’ve been planning this for weeks. We’ll finally get to hunt at that snobbish duck club.

I know, I know, Rex said. But poaching and trespassing on forbidden land troubles me, not to mention how dangerous navigating the marshland can be in the dark morning hours. Once in the swamp, it becomes a maze. I’ve heard stories of people getting disoriented and having to be picked up by Search and Rescue.

You worry too much. Remember, Rex, Mack has your back, Mack teased him. Hey, don’t chicken out on me now. We’ll be in and out before the club’s patrols know what hit them. I’ve studied the maps of this area and think of the ducks and geese we’ll bag.

Rex nodded, but he couldn’t shake the butterflies that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew the risks, but the lure of the exclusive duck hunting club and the thousands of ducks said to be migrating through the area was too great to resist. Rex admired Mack’s confidence, although that had gotten him into trouble. Rex was the worrier, always considering potential consequences, while Mack lived carefree and recklessly.

As they approached the gate of the duck club, Mack pointed out the entrance. Hey, Rex, just ahead is the gate to the club’s land. I told you I knew where we were going. Just before the gate, park between the two big bushes on the left side of the road. That’ll camouflage your truck.

Rex nodded. Sure, my truck should just fit between those bushes with no problem. I’ll park as far off the road and as close to the fence as possible. It’s muddy there, but my truck has positraction, so getting stuck shouldn’t be a problem.

Whenever given the opportunity, Rex would boast about his beloved Chevy. The unique positraction feature allowed the back wheels to spin simultaneously for improved traction, which was extraordinary. He loved this truck; it was his baby and never let him down.

Mack’s voice was low and urgent as he turned to Rex. We need to be ready for anything. Turn the truck around so we won’t waste time if we have to escape.

Rex knew the implication; they might need to leave abruptly if the Duck Patrol pursued them. He carefully turned around and drove off the road and into the mud. He maneuvered the old Chevy between two bushes, which provided perfect camouflage. He parked it to ensure it wouldn’t sink.

Don’t forget your bug spray, Mack reminded his friend. You know how relentless the mosquitos and gnats can be in this swamp. They’ll swarm all over you, leaving not a single inch untouched.

Rex’s skin